CHAPTER 31 #2
Everything inside me stops. At first, I’m convinced I heard him wrong. But he looks serious. Even his gaze doesn’t waver. Then he leans closer again, sending a shiver through me.
“I have slept with many women in the past, but I never kissed any of them. You were the first woman I ever wanted to kiss.” His thumb brushes lightly against my cheek. “And you’ll be the last.”
My heart forgets how to beat… because that doesn’t make sense. A man like Raghav? The Dark Prince. The most feared mafia king in the underworld? Never kissed anyone before me?
How is that even possible?
And if it’s true, then why me? Why did he choose me? Why did he kiss me?
I stare at the raw hunger burning in his eyes, the kind that says things his mouth doesn’t. The intensity of it makes it almost impossible to look away, especially when his thumbs continue brushing lightly against my cheeks.
Seconds later, his attention shifts to somewhere behind me.
I glance over my shoulder and find Haider watching us from a distance.
Raghav’s expression hardens at Haider’s silent signal to speak urgently with him.
He drops his hands from my face and takes a step back.
Without another word, he turns and walks away.
Haider falls into step beside him as both men head towards the office cabin, leaving me standing there, frozen, confused, and unable to stop thinking about that one impossible sentence.
‘You were my first kiss, Siya.’
How the hell is that even possible?
RAGHAV
An hour later – Villa
After discussing the developments unfolding in Cape Town, Haider and I walk towards the villa. Ever since Siya and her mother moved in, something has changed. The house feels different. My routine feels different. Hell, even I feel different.
This villa, which has always been my territory, my refuge, now carries traces of them in every room.
A forgotten shawl over the back of a chair.
The scent of freshly made tea wafting through the corridors.
The sound of mother-daughter talking and laughing somewhere in the distance.
Things I never thought I would notice, yet somehow, I do every single day.
Before they came here, I used to cook my own food.
High-protein meals, strict portions, no shortcuts.
I never depended on the resort kitchen for anything.
Now I don’t even enter the kitchen. For the past week, I’ve been eating alone at the resort.
Siya’s mother already hates me enough. She still looks at me like she’d happily throw me off the nearest cliff if given the chance.
But every time I see her with Siya, fussing over her, tucking a loose strand of hair behind Siya’s ear, helping her choose clothes, scolding her, feeding her, pulling her into a hug, taking care of every little thing for her…
something twists inside my chest on seeing that warmth.
It’s the same warmth I have spent my entire life imagining.
Is this what mothers are supposed to be like?
Because I wouldn’t know.
The bond between a mother and child is something I’ve only heard about. I have Baba, the closest thing to a father I’ve ever had. But a mother’s love is different. And I get to witness it every day under my roof, making me wonder what it would feel like to have that for myself.
But the moment this thought appears, I kill it immediately because some things were never meant for me.
Last week has changed things between Siya and me as well.
She still hasn’t accepted this marriage.
Still doesn’t want this life. But her anger feels different now.
It’s less explosive and more thoughtful.
Earlier, she used to fight with me over the smallest things.
Now she mostly walks away. And God help me, I think I preferred the fighting.
At least then, I knew exactly where I stood with her. Now, I don’t.
Every morning, I wake up before her, and it’s a torture to see her curled into the sheets on my bed, with her face buried halfway into the blanket.
She looks like an angel in her sleep. So, every damn morning, I spend my precious minutes just looking at her, studying her, memorising her, and forcing myself not to reach out and touch her.
“Raghav?” Haider’s voice pulls me back to the present.
I give him a nod, and that’s when I spot Siya. She’s standing near the garden pathway, with her phone pressed to her ear. I can hear her talking to Meher.
I already know the family has been in constant touch with her ever since Baba, Meher, and Ayaan returned to Mumbai.
Siya has Baba’s number now. The same number I once had no intention of giving her. Not that she calls them every day. But the family has already accepted her as one of their own. And surprisingly, Siya hasn’t pushed them away.
I continue listening to Haider, though my attention remains divided. I overhear her telling Meher that we’ll be leaving for Mumbai in two days. Then comes the discussion about clothes. I almost smile.
Women.
No matter what world they come from, some things never change.
Siya is asking what she should wear for the baby shower.
Knowing Meher, she’s probably refusing to reveal anything.
Simran, Meher’s sister-in-law and Vishnu’s wife, has apparently designed the outfits for all the women in the family.
And probably the men too. Not that I’m wearing what they have chosen for me.
By the time the call ends, there’s still a small smile on her face. And judging by that smile, she’s looking forward to this baby shower almost as much as I am.
A moment later, the front door opens, and her mother steps out carrying a puja thali. She walks over to Siya and offers her a laddoo as prasad. Just like every other day, I don’t expect the prasad to be offered to me.
Every morning, I watch Siya’s mother perform her prayers, and every morning, she gives the prasad to Siya.
And every morning, I remain exactly where I belong…
outside that small circle. Assuming nothing will be different today, Haider and I continue discussing security arrangements that need to be in place during my absence from RK Estate.
“You are not letting me come with you to Mumbai,” Haider exhales slowly. “I still don’t like the idea.”
I know he doesn’t. For years, Haider has been right next to me like a shadow. But this time, I’m not taking him with me.
“Someone needs to stay back here, Haider,” I reply. “And you know I don’t trust anyone else. If both of us leave, we’re inviting trouble here. That’s why you need to be here.”
“And if something happens in Mumbai? You know the entire underworld is currently looking for you, Raghav. They’re all waiting for that one opportunity to strike.”
I look at him flatly. “Then God help the fool who tries.” I pat his arm. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”
That finally earns a reluctant nod from him.
We are still discussing other matters when Siya’s mother suddenly stops beside us.
Our conversation dies instantly as she extends the puja thali towards me.
For a moment, I’m too surprised to react.
The woman who can barely tolerate my presence is offering me prasad?
Yet my hand moves automatically. The left one.
She immediately frowns and smacks my arm. “Bring forward your right hand,” she says.
I freeze.
Did she just hit me? Before I can correct myself, she reaches forward, catches my wrist, and places the laddoo into my right palm herself.
“Prasad is always taken with the right hand. Remember that from now.”
That’s all she says before turning to Haider and offering him the prasad too.
“Thank you,” he says respectfully, taking it with the right hand. Lesson learnt.
For several seconds after she walks away, I simply stare at the laddoo resting in my palm.
I don’t know why such a small gesture affects me so much.
Maybe because I never expected her to do this for me.
Or maybe because I know exactly how difficult that step must have been for her.
To slowly try to bridge the gap between us.
I instinctively glance at Siya, who is watching her mother with a soft, surprised smile, as if she hadn’t expected that gesture either. But there’s no disapproval in her eyes, which is a big change. Our eyes meet for a brief second before Siya follows her mother back towards the villa.
Haider gives me a nod and leaves soon after. Once he’s gone, I look down at the laddoo again. It’s ridiculous. For a man who has survived shootouts, betrayals, wars, and countless assassination attempts, it’s surprising that a small piece of prasad from Siya’s mother could feel so significant.
As soon as I take a bite, the sweetness settles on my tongue. It’s homemade. For the first time in years, it tastes like something I never really had… home.
Finishing the last bite, I head back inside the villa.
SIYA
I can’t get over the look on Raghav’s face when Mom placed that laddoo in his palm. He looked like a man who had just received something he didn’t even realise he had been craving.
A mother’s affection.
For all his power, money, influence, and the fear his name commands in the underworld, that is one thing life never gave him. Maybe that’s why, despite all the issues between us, despite everything he has done, that look somehow made me smile too.
Mom and I are in the living room, discussing what to buy for Meher’s baby shower, when I notice Raghav walking in. In two days, we’ll be flying to Mumbai for the ceremony. The entire family will be there, and neither Mom nor I want to arrive empty-handed.
“What about silver anklets?” Mom asks. “One pair for each baby.”
I nod thoughtfully. “Or maybe silver bracelets,” I suggest. “We can engrave their initials after they’re born.”
“We’ll see what’s available in the market.”
Neither of us notices Raghav listening until his voice cuts through our discussion.
“The driver and the guards will take you both into town for shopping.”