Chapter 39
Thirty-Nine
HARSH
Harsh held one finger up to the bartender who nodded and reached for the bottle of tequila behind him.
“Do you want to take it easy?” Agastya materialised beside him like a stealth operative.
“It’s an open bar at a wedding reception.” Harsh didn’t bother looking at him. “My wedding reception. I think I’m entitled to a little fun.”
“Key word there being ‘little’.”
“You know,” Harsh said conversationally. “I’ve always wondered if you were born with that stick up your arse or it got shoved up there at some point?”
He could sense Agastya stiffen beside him and a pang of shame streaked through him. But it was swiftly buried by the anger, hurt, and misery that seemed to simmer right under his skin.
The tequila appeared before him, the perfect serving in the cut crystal glass and he took a deep, appreciative sip.
“What’s happened?” Agastya asked quietly.
A stinging burn at the back of Harsh’s eyes had him squeezing them shut. He’d forgotten how perceptive his brother could be. He’d forgotten how well Agastya knew him. He’d forgotten how deep their bond went. Or rather had once gone.
“Are you happy?” he asked Agastya.
“Are you?” his brother returned. “It is your wedding, after all.”
“My wedding.” Harsh spun around, keeping his back to the bar and watching the crowd milling around on the huge lawns. Where his bride was, he had no idea. He hated himself for scanning the crowd for a glimpse of her. “My wedding,” he repeated. “But your ultimate dream. Your new family is further integrated into the old, ratty one.”
Agastya stared at him, eyes hooded. “I have only one family, Harsh. It’s expanded a bit but at no point did the new members replace the old.”
“Right.” Harsh toasted his brother with his glass. “Absolutely.”
Well aware he was being an asshole, he grinned at Agastya before tossing the liquor back and slamming the empty glass on the bar counter. He signalled the bartender to fill it up.
“Is that what you think?” Agastya persisted. “That I replaced you with…whom exactly? Ram or Raashi?”
Harsh snorted, staring into his empty glass. “I’m easily irreplaceable. Their family dog could take my place.”
“They don’t have a family dog,” Agastya replied dryly.
Harsh laughed, a loud, bitter sound that had people glancing over at them. Fairy lights twinkled all around them, bringing an old-world glamour to the place. Old world, Harsh thought. He was anything but old world, but nobody had bothered to ask him what he’d wanted. Nobody had asked the groom if he liked the decorations. Not that he gave a flying fuck about wedding decorations, he thought morosely. It would have just been nice to have been asked. God, he was being a mopey sad sack!
“What is this really about?” Agastya asked, raising a hand and having a beer miraculously appear before him. Honestly, the man’s charisma was practically magic.
Harsh raised his hand and the confused bartender gave him a high five before walking away.
“Harsh.” Agastya’s voice was low enough for only him to hear. “I don’t know what the fuck is bothering you but I’m assuming it’s something to do with Raashi.”
“Ding. Ding. Ding. Give the man a reward. He just hit the bullseye.”
Alcohol swam through his veins as he stared blearily at his brother’s tight face. “Do you want to know what my problem is?”
Agastya’s lip tightened into a thin line, but he said nothing, waiting for Harsh to finish.
“I’m never enough. Not for anyone.”
Agastya closed his eyes, exhaling hard. “Our parents have a lot to fucking answer for. And, I suppose, I do too.”
No. No. Agastya had tried. If it hadn’t been for him, Harsh’s childhood would have been a nightmare. Was that why he was acting like a pouty baby about his brother’s new relationships? Because he didn’t want to share the only champion he’d ever had?
“Good evening Agastya.”
That voice sliced through his musings, bringing with it murderous rage. Harsh turned slowly to meet Anant Madhavan’s flat, dead eyes.
“No good evening for me?” Harsh asked with an obnoxious grin.
“Please accept my felicitations,” Anant said stiffly, baring his teeth in an approximation of a smile at Harsh. The smile was slightly more polite when it was aimed at Agastya.
“Your what?” Harsh asked, deliberately, a childish glee overtaking him at needling the other man in a setting where he had no option but to be polite.
“Congratulations on your wedding,” Anant muttered, looking pained at having to say the words.
Harsh beamed at him. “Thank you, Anant Garu. Your presence here today has truly made the whole day special.”
Anant’s lips thinned, barely suppressed fury blazing in his eyes. He wasn’t even bothering to conceal it.
Agastya glanced between the two men, his perceptive gaze clearly picking up on the vibes.
“Have you met Raashi yet?” Harsh tapped the side of his glass as he carefully pushed the man towards his tipping point. “Have you offered your fel-ic-i-tat-ions?” He dragged the word out, sneering the entire time.
For one marvellous moment, he thought Anant was going to hit him. He would have welcomed it. But disappointingly, Anant had more control than expected.
“No,” he murmured. “I didn’t. I believe it’s Raashi’s wish that I never speak to her again.”
Dark pleasure slid through him at Anant’s words. Agastya shifted beside him, a subtle movement but one that told him his brother was there. For him and for Raashi.
“And yet, here you are,” Harsh drawled. “Why are you here, Mr. Madhavan?”
“I’d like to know that myself.” Ram Gadde came to stand on Harsh’s other side. “Why the fuck are you anywhere in the vicinity of my sister, Madhavan?”
He was bookended by overprotective brothers, Harsh thought wryly. His and Raashi’s. Maybe there was no ‘his and Raashi’s’ anymore. Maybe Anna was on to something. Family just expanded, like your heart did. Not replacing, just adding on like fucking compound interest or something.
“No clue what’s going on,” Aarush announced, coming to stand beside Agastya. “But I’m here for it.”
“And how exactly are you going to be useful, Reddy?” Ram asked him, side eyeing him.
Aarush paused. After a moment’s deliberation, he said, “I own acres and acres of property. If we need to bury a body somewhere, I’m your guy.”
Agastya groaned. “There will be no bodies buried.”
“Not even if he hurts your brother?” Aarush asked curiously.
Agastya levelled a flat look at Anant. “Then, I’ll bring the fucking shovel.”
Harsh laughed, this time a freeing sound. “Well, we’re waiting, Anant Garu,” he prodded at the man who was staring at the four of them.
For a moment, he thought Anant wouldn’t answer but then he did. “I needed to see for myself,” he said honestly. “I needed to know for sure.”
Harsh felt sorry for him. For a second and then it disappeared. This man had hurt Raashi. He didn’t know how and he didn’t know when. But he knew that he’d left scars in a woman so magnificent, she would take on a fire breathing dragon and live to tell the tale. And that Harsh couldn’t tolerate.
“Good,” he said briskly. “You’ve seen everything. Now go.” He nodded his head towards the entrance. “Go on. Get out.”
Anant’s hands clenched into fists and still, the asshole didn’t throw a punch. Harsh thought he might rival Agastya Anna for control.
“I’ll go,” he said, nodding at their little wall of muscle. “But only because she asked me to.”
He turned on his heel, stopped and then turned back to face them, his gaze going directly to Harsh.
“But when she’s done with you and calls for me, Kodela, and she will, believe you me she will…You can bet your fucking vapid acting career, that I will be there before she draws her next breath.”
Harsh placed his glass down on the bar counter before him and took a deliberate step forward.
“I was just admiring your self-control,” he told the other man. “You’re a lot like Agastya Anna that way. But you know what, Madhavan?”
“What?” the other man sneered.
“I’m not.”
He drew his hand back and let fly, the first punch shattering something in Anant’s nose, blood fountaining out of it and all over Harsh’s Tom Ford suit. He fell to the grassy ground behind, scrabbling for purchase, one hand pressed to his nose in a vain bid to get the bleeding to stop.
“Dammit,” Harsh complained. “It’s going to be a bitch to get this blood out of my shirt. I really liked it.”
Guards rushed over from all the hidden corners they’d been stationed at, forming a cordon around their little scene. In the distance someone screamed, melodramatics on cue.
“I’m going to sue,” Anant blustered, as someone helped him to his feet. “Everyone saw what happened. You hit me first.”
Harsh slung an arm around Ram’s shoulder. “Talk to my legal counsel please. I don’t have time to waste on you.”
And then with one last smile for the fallen man, he wandered off to look for his bride. It was his wedding day, after all!