Chapter 36
Thirty-Six
RAASHI
Raashi walked into the restaurant, her gaze scanning the crowded tables until she saw him. Her hand tightened on the strap of her purse, lips thinning as she wondered if she should just turn around and walk back to her car. She should…she really should. This was a really bad idea. The best thing to do would be to leave immediately.
So, of course, she didn’t leave.
Raashi made her winding way through the tables until she reached the corner table he was seated at.
Anant glanced up at her and smiled, getting to his feet like the gentleman he pretended to be.
“Thank you for joining me.” The warm, genial vibe sent a pang through her, memories of happier times sliding through her rebellious brain. “I tried to get the private table, but it was already reserved for someone.”
Raashi’s gaze went briefly to the partition behind him that gave the private table folks some semblance of privacy. That was a beautiful wallpaper on it, she thought dispassionately, her eyes tracing the tropical print with the birds and vines.
“You look tired Raashi,” he said gently, leaning forward, concern lining his every move.
“What do you want?” she asked abruptly, leaning away from him. “Why did you insist I join you for dinner tonight?”
His lips pressed together, a thin line of disappointment and reproach. “There’s no need to behave badly, Raashi.”
Raashi laughed, a loud, abrasive sound. “I haven’t even begun to behave badly, Anant. Keep talking to me like I’m a toddler throwing a tantrum and I’ll show you exactly what bad behaviour looks like.”
He stared at her, his fist crumpling the napkin on his lap. She watched it carefully, well aware that it was a sign that his control over his carefully curated public image was crumbling. He took a deep breath and looked around them at the chattering, laughing crowd. It was almost like he was reminding himself why he couldn’t lose control here.
So many people, so many witnesses. A bitter smile touched her lips as she watched him carefully calibrate his options.
The server came over to take their orders. Anant ordered for them, not bothering to ask her for her preference. Somethings never changed. Then again, maybe something had. Where Raashi would have found him commanding and worldly wise earlier, now all she saw was a domineering bully.
“Would madam like something to drink?” The waiter smiled over at her, clearly feeling sorry for her.
“No,” Anant answered on her behalf. “Just water. Madam does not do well with alcohol.”
“We have some lovely mocktails,” the waiter persisted.
“Just water,” Anant snapped. “Don’t try to act too smart,” he warned the waiter, clearly pissed at the man’s attempts to make Raashi feel comfortable.
She tried to smile at him comfortingly, but the mortified waiter beat a hasty retreat not daring a second look at their table.
“Nothing’s changed,” she remarked, snapping her own napkin open and putting it on her lap.
“You certainly have,” he replied, his tone telling her he didn’t believe the change was for the better.
Raashi smiled, dark pleasure sliding through her at the thought of him being displeased. “Have I?” she murmured.
“Don’t play games, Raashi. It doesn’t suit you. Plus, you don’t really have the brains for it.”
Her water arrived and Raashi picked up the glass, taking a delicate sip. “But…but…but I’m one of the smartest people you’ve ever known. Don’t you remember telling me that, Anant?”
“Book smarts don’t translate to life smarts.” He picked up his glass of scotch and swirled the golden-brown liquid around before taking a hefty slug of it. “You’re clearly proving that with your idiotic choices.”
“Did you call me here to berate me for those choices?” The dimsums arrived and the waiter proceeded to serve them.
Anant waited for him to leave before saying, “You’re getting married to that overgrown toddler tomorrow. What the fuck are you thinking, Raashi?”
“I’m getting married to Harsh Kodela tomorrow,” she said, her voice infused with steel. “I’m thinking I’m the luckiest girl in Telangana.”
He started to laugh, deep, belly shaking chortles, that had her frowning. A plate of chicken 65 arrived and was served before he stopped laughing, wiping at the tears of mirth streaming down his cheeks with the back of his sleeve.
“You’re even talking like one of his brain-dead fans.”
“Brain-dead fans?” It didn’t matter that Raashi had shared that opinion not so long ago. It rankled now. And it annoyed the fuck out of her that this toxic, sanctimonious man thought he could run Harsh down. He didn’t deserve to wipe the dirt off Harsh’s shoes.
Harsh was everything this asshole wasn’t. He was kind, gentle, sweet, funny, hot as the fucking sun itself, and –
Raashi’s mouth dropped open. Oh. My. God. She was in love with him. She was in love with Harsh Kodela. And she was marrying him tomorrow.
Suddenly queasy, Raashi brought a hand to her stomach. Anant’s eyes dropped to the motion.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he hissed. “Have you really been that stupid? Are you pregnant? Is that why you’re having this shotgun wedding?”
Raashi put her fork down before she stabbed the sanctimonious ass with it. “Why did you force me to come here, Anant? What do you want?”
“I want you to stop with this farce of a wedding.” He folded his hands in his lap and stared down his nose at her.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I am telling you to.”
“And if I don’t?” she dared him, the final tether to her commonsense snapping.
“Don’t force me to remind you of what I can do if you don’t listen to me, Raashi.” His voice was silken soft, the voice from her nightmares.
She picked up her fork again, instinct pushing her to stay armed, pitiful though the weapon was.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore.” Her voice was thin and high, making him smile.
“Are you willing to bet on that?” he asked, his triumphant sneer growing. “You had a lot to lose in the past, Raashi. But now, with the Kodelas in play, you don’t just have a lot to lose. You have everything to lose.”
Raashi held his gaze, her heart pounding in her chest like a war drum in motion.
“Call the wedding off.”
“No.” The war drum sped up, sweat pooling at the base of her spine.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Are you hard of hearing?” The lethally vicious voice caused a jolt of fear to race through Raashi’s veins. Fear that Anant’s obvious intimidation hadn’t caused.
The privacy partition behind them was slowly pulled back and Harsh Kodela stepped out from behind it. His cold, furious gaze raked over her white face before landing on Anant’s startled one.
Priyanka’s worried face swam into view, but Raashi couldn’t look away from Harsh long enough to reassure her future sister-in-law that it was all going to be okay. Not that she knew if anything was going to be okay. Ever again.
“Where did you come from?” Anant rose to his feet to face Harsh.
“Are you blind as well?” Harsh asked, his polite tone at odds with the rage that blanketed his face and body.
“Listen little boy-“
“No, you listen, old man,” Harsh smiled, a feral grimace. “Stay the fuck away from my wife.”
“Your wife,” Anant scoffed. “She will never be your wife.”
“Tomorrow morning,” Harsh replied evenly. “At 11:41 AM is when never is going to happen. I believe you’re on the guest list.”
“Maybe we should have his name removed,” Priyanka suggested, her voice frozen and cold, bringing everyone’s attention to her.
“No.” Harsh didn’t look away from Anant. “Let him come. I want him to come. I want him to watch. And then,” he turned slowly to look at Raashi who sat frozen in her chair. “I want to show him what happens when he takes a Kodela on, even one who marries into the family.”
“I don’t know what fucking point you think you’re making,” Anant blustered.
Harsh skewered him with an icy glare. “I’m not making a point, Madhavan. I’m teaching you a lesson.”
He looked down at Raashi again, one last burning glance. “Enjoy your dinner,” he said, painfully politely. “I’ll see you at the mandap in the morning.”