Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
VIREN
I bit back a curse as my aunt led Tahira into the living room. What the hell was she doing here?
It was bad enough that my aunt and uncle had gatecrashed our holiday, but why did she have to invite her niece to tag along? I knew she was trying to throw her in my path, but that was disgusting considering that I was already married.
As soon as my aunt and uncle heard we’d rented a grand manor in London for the duration of our stay, they insisted on accompanying us. I couldn’t deny them the chance to vacation with their granddaughter Aisha, but I could also not deny that I was looking forward to some time alone with the people closest to me - Aisha, my niece and the daughter of my heart…Daima, who had raised me and now ran my life…and Sufi, my secretary, who was now a pillar of support to my family. I blew out a sharp breath and ignored the niggling voice in my head that insisted that my real agenda was to spend some quality time with Sunaina, my wife.
I mean, yes…life in Mumbai often felt like we lived in a fishbowl with the constant scrutiny and paparazzi trailing Sunaina and me all over the city. Every look we shared…every smile was dissected in the media and built up into something very romantic, while the truth was that there was nothing romantic about our relationship. It was a purely business arrangement, born out of sheer necessity.
And I was man enough to admit that sometimes… very rarely …I felt the urge to pick her up, throw her onto the back of my Harley Davidson, and ride off into the mountains for the weekend, where nobody would disturb us. Okay, maybe it wasn’t a very rare thought. It came to me probably every other week. Or every other day. Until all I could think of was how to find some time alone with Sunaina.
But my rational brain was still in charge of me, praise the Lord. It did not allow my dick to have its way ever. Which meant that in the two years and twenty-seven days that I had been married to Sunaina, I had never so much as taken her out to dinner without Aisha and/or Sufi tagging along. There was a very clear no man’s land between us. We were roommates, co-parents to Aisha, and even good friends of sorts, but nothing more.
Sure, our weekly family movie nights often left just the two of us sitting together on the big plush couch in the den after everyone else had gone to bed. More often than not, we finished the night with Sunaina falling asleep with her head on my shoulder by the time the credits rolled on the screen, but no matter how much my body screamed at me to lay her down gently on the couch and make sweet, hot love to her, I always shook her awake and sent her off to bed. Alone.
Because our ironclad marriage contract specified that ours was a marriage in name only. And it had been drilled into me since I was a child that a good businessman never broke the terms of a contract. The winning strategy lay in allowing the opposite party to mess up and break the terms in some way, which would allow me to swoop in and grab what I wanted.
But in this case, even if Sunaina violated the contract and reached out to me physically, there was no victory for me. No matter what happened, both of us would only lose. We’d lose the precarious friendship that had grown over the years. We’d lose the trust that held us together. And we’d lose the family that we had built together. Because Sunaina was not the sort of woman with whom I could have a one-night stand to slake this inferno of desire building inside me. She was the kind of woman you loved and cherished forever. Unfortunately, I couldn’t offer her the promise of forever. I couldn’t even offer her ‘right now’.
Life had taught me that relationships were not for me. I was much better off alone. Every single person I had loved had left me. My parents died in a helicopter accident when I was a child. And I lost my best friend and cousin, Deven, a few years ago in another horrific accident.
Deven was Aisha’s father, and when she lost both her parents in the accident, we banded together like the broken souls that we were and helped each other grieve. Deven’s parents, who were my aunt and uncle, were content to allow me to raise her in our family home, Chaudhry House. We would have been perfectly happy if Aisha’s maternal uncle hadn’t set his beady little eyes on her inheritance. He threatened to file for her custody based on the premise that she would thrive better in his house with his two daughters for company. Given that I was a single playboy billionaire with the reputation that came with the territory, there was a high chance of him winning the custody battle.
That’s when I had the grand idea of entering into a temporary marriage to convince the courts that I was fit to be Aisha’s legal guardian. Sunaina, who was related to Daima and in need of a roof over her head, seemed like the perfect fake wife because she had no interest in taking on the role of Mrs Viren Chaudhry permanently.
It hadn’t been easy, this marriage of convenience. But we had pulled it off. And now, we were almost at the end.
As soon as I formally adopted Aisha, Sunaina was free to walk away from this marriage. She was free to live her life however she wanted.
I always knew this day was coming, so why did it feel so wrong now that we were actually going to set our lives back to normal programming?
“You don’t look happy to see me,” said Tahira with a pout.
“Of course I am,” I replied, forcing a smile to my face. “But I thought you were supposed to be working on the Meshri Bai album release this weekend.”
Tahira Mundhra was one of my oldest friends and my Chachi’s niece, to boot. She was also on the board of directors of Silver Records, a position she had earned by dint of hard work. She had recently unearthed hitherto unknown recordings of Meshri Bai, one of India’s greatest thumri singers, and had convinced her great-grandson to license the master rights to our company. The album was to be released very soon, and I would have thought Tahira would be too busy to follow us to London.
“I needed a break from work,” she said with a groan, throwing herself onto the eighteenth-century sofa. “I was planning a quick break in Rishikesh when Bua invited me to join you guys. Obviously, a week at an English manor trumps a yoga weekend in the mountains. Especially when it is with one of my best friends.”
I restrained a snort of derision with a lot of trouble. If Tahira thought I was one of her best friends, she must have very few friends in the world. She was very close to Deven, which was why she was allowed to tag along with us when we were growing up. It was true that we had spent a lot of time together, but that was only because Deven included the both of us in all his plans. It did not explain her proprietary attitude to me. I had tried to keep her at bay since Deven’s untimely death, but my Chachi was so emotionally fragile these days that I did not want to hurt her feelings by being rude to her niece.
“Tahira dear, let me show you to your room. You must be exhausted,” said Chachi mistily.
“No, Bua. I slept on the flight. I just need a quick shower and change, and then I’ll be ready for whatever Viren has planned for tonight,” she replied jumping to her feet.
Over my dead body, I thought viciously. All Viren had planned for tonight was a bottle of the best single malt money could buy and a good book.
I wanted a quiet evening alone for once. Sufi had tried to drag me into his and Sunaina’s plans for the night, but I had turned him down as always. It was getting very difficult to keep my distance from my wife, and knowing Sufi’s tendency to meddle in matters that were none of his business, he’d find a way to leave us alone for the rest of the night, and I’d struggle to keep my hands off Sunaina. I knew better than anyone else that one wrong move would blow our amicable divorce plans to bits.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Tahira. But I don’t plan to go out tonight,” I said firmly.
“Aww, come on, baby. Don’t be such a bore,” she said, stepping closer to me. “Do you remember the good times we’ve had in London before?”
I cocked an eyebrow quizzically.
“Have we ever been in London together before?” I enquired.
“Of course we have,” she exclaimed. “For Deven’s graduation from LSE.”
“Were you there too?” I asked as if I did not remember the way she had thrown herself at me with single-minded determination the whole time.
“Yes, I was,” she snapped, turning an ugly shade of red. “I have the pictures to prove it.”
“All I remember is getting drunk with Deven and getting thrown out of pubs,” I said apologetically.
“Come on, let’s relive those days. I promise I’ll carry you back home if we get thrown out of a pub tonight,” she coaxed.
“Unfortunately, I have other plans. But Sufi and Sunaina are planning to paint the town red. So, if you’re in the mood to party tonight, you should join them.”
“Oh no! I wouldn’t want to intrude,” Tahira replied hastily. “I’ll just stay home with you. We could have a nice, cosy evening by ourselves.”
Great! I was never going to be rid of her, I thought despairingly.
“Aisha and I are planning to have a 90’s movie marathon. You and Chachi are welcome to join us,” I said, accepting defeat.
“Awesome! I’ll go and change into something more comfortable,” she said triumphantly.
But before she could leave, Sufi entered the room.
“You look… shiny ,” said Tahira, with a grimace.
“Always a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” replied Sufi bitingly, and I hid a smile.
“Are you guys off?” I asked, looking beyond him for a glimpse of my wife. My temporary wife, damn it! Why was it so difficult to remember that little distinction?
“Yes, Mr C. Sunaina’s just coming downstairs in a minute,” said Sufi, with a knowing smile that I ignored.
“Good. I hope you guys have fun. What are you doing tonight?”
“Oh, you know…the usual. We’ll probably do dinner and a nightclub. But first, we’re going to Ally Pally to watch the fireworks.”
I’d forgotten it was Bonfire Night in the UK. The fireworks display at Alexandra Palace was astounding, and I was glad Sunaina was getting a chance to watch it. That’s when she walked into the room, and I almost swallowed my tongue. I forgot what I was thinking. I forgot the people in the room. I forgot everything but the woman walking towards me with an uncomfortable smile on her face.