Chapter 22: The Engagement

It was Sunday morning, the morning of her supposed engagement with Darsh Rathore. Like any other morning, yet completely different. Her anger from last night had subsided now, giving way to a steely determination. It was necessary to do the needful. She was going to do what her teachers had taught her all along. That a doctor sometimes had to make hard decisions. That the health of a body depended on the timely removal of rotten parts.

She got ready and took Aron to the village green to meet the little boy, Uday, for his promised riding lesson. For that one hour, she forgot her worries, although at the back of her mind remained a strange quiet. Her Dad was there giving her frowning looks, shaking his head in disapproval. He would never have let her act so rashly. There was always a better solution, he would have said stoically. Aditi smiled. This was from a man who'd committed suicide and hadn't been able to find a way out of his own crippling misery. One who had left her alone, knowingly choosing grief over the love of his own daughter.

Her Ma was there too, crying silent tears. Finding the love of your life was the greatest happiness, said her solemn face. Well, what did she know? She was lucky to have found her love when she did. Not everyone was so lucky, definitely not Aditi.

She had her own life to live, her own choices to make. And she would make them the way she wanted to. The dead had no bearing over them, and neither did the living.

Her mind reeled with wayward thoughts as she finally started for home. The three plain-clothes policemen waiting patiently by the side road promptly fell in line behind her. They did not need to pretend otherwise. The whole Palampur today was teaming up with dodgy-looking men. Half of them were Darsh Rathore's men who'd sprouted magically from among the tourists. The boy is living up to his expectations, her Dadaji had gushed proudly.

The rest of them were actual police officers the IG Police had deployed for the special occasion of her engagement. This was to deter any untoward incident from happening, considering the fallout this engagement will cause with the Raisinghs. Aditi had to give it was a clever move by her Dadaji. The Raisinghs won't do anything foolish with so many on their watch.

Alas, it wasn't a permanent solution. The police would leave in a day and so would Darsh Rathore's men. It all came down to her, her perfect plan to weed out the root of this problem.

Reaching home, she sent a quick text to Vivaan.

"I'm sorry, but I can't go against my Dadaji's wishes."

Turning off her phone, she ate a light lunch, then took a deep, rejuvenating nap. She had to look fresh for tonight, as a girl in love, illuminating radiance, brimming with happiness. Her plan tonight depended on Vivaan seeing her like this, the rest of it would automatically fall into place.

*****

Purple evening sky reflected itself in the vast waters of river Paulomi that flowed hugging the Queen's Lounge in its gentle curve. The river was deep here, calm and full of weeds. It got shallower as it flowed further, meandering through the rocky crags toward a plunging waterfall a mile away.

When he was little, Balwant used to come here with his friends. Jumping in the dark waters from atop the bridge was their favorite pastime. He still remembered those days fondly. A few years later, his father built the racecourse and developed the surrounding area. But the charm of the place still remained intact.

Tonight it shined with a special glow. The sinking sun in the west had set waves of orange skittering through the sky. That, coupled with thousands of lights twinkling in the bushes, had made the evening even more magical.

The grounds of the Queen's Lounge teamed with people- friends, business partners, industrialists, politicians, whoever could scramble here at such short notice. Many were shocked, so much so that they had taken last-minute flights to be here tonight. No one wanted to miss the chance to meet his future son-in-law - Darsh Rathore, the dark horse, the unexpected winner of a race they hadn't even realized was on. An obscure businessman from Delhi who was nudging his way past other established aspirants.

"Where have you been hiding, young man?" Mrs. Zaweri, the profligate socialite, ogled at him unabashedly. "We all thought Vivaan Raisingh was the lucky bastard. But I must say, this comes as a pleasant surprise!"

"Not hiding, Mrs. Zaweri, just waiting for the right moment," Darsh answered with a playful wink. "I believe one should only strike when the iron is hot."

The group around them erupted in laughter. Mrs. Zaweri blushed furiously.

Balwant shook his head. The boy was certainly making an impression tonight. His sleek talks and sleeker looks had the ladies swooning. To his amusement, some gents too looked rather taken. Balwant had to give the boy looked rather dapper, even a tad better than his Susheel on his own engagement day.

"Never heard of you before. Where did you say you are from?" Randeep Dawar, Balwant's long-term friend and lawyer, stepped forward, claiming Darsh's attention. Being a lawyer, Dawar felt entitled to ask rude questions. Balwant shot him a warning look, but Dawar's eyes stayed on Darsh.

"I am from Delhi, Mr. Dawar," Darsh answered, taking it in stride. "And you are lucky we didn't cross paths. Believe me, many people I deal with wish they'd never met me in the first place."

Another laughter broke, louder this time to hide the startled looks. Dawar pulled Balwant aside.

"I hope you know what you are doing. Who is this guy? Never heard of him before. I hope you've been careful."

Balwant gave an imperceptible shrug. He had done his homework and vetted the boy. What was there to think? Moreover, Aditi liked the boy. That settled it for him. "He's just what I need to deal with the Raisinghs, Dawar. You know I can't rely on anyone."

They continued their walk, casually roaming through the gardens sporting flutes of rare champagne. The staff at the Queens had outdone themselves, the place shined like a jewel in the crown. Lights twinkled in blooming rose bushes, and the air itself felt heavy with the richness of life.

If the boy was impressed by this extravagance, he did a splendid job of hiding it. But people around him were not so subtle. Every now and then, he saw men throwing spurious glances. The young were jealous. They had all aspired for the same honor, each of them had vied for Aditi's hand. His golden granddaughter with her golden inheritance was a distant dream for many. Alas, nobody was able to come this far. The Raisingh reputation had seen to it.

The older men were guarded, assessing the boy through raised glasses. He was new money and old conservatives like them did not like mixing with riff-raff.

Well, tough for them, Balwant shrugged his shoulders. Once married to Aditi, the boy would become as good as them, or even better. He'd wield a power few of them hadn't desired themselves. It was all jealousy, not to mention the fear that he had finally found someone to replace his late son.

He glanced at his watch, then at the magnificently carved door of the Queen's Lounge. It was about time. Aditi should be here any minute. He saw the boy's eyes flitting towards the door and smiled.

"She'd be here soon. She's coming with Zorawar." The boy nodded. His face was full of eagerness, the happiness of a man getting his heart's wish. Balwant knew that face well. It was the face of his Susheel on his own engagement day when he had stood waiting for his Meera in this very place.

Some other faces though...he rather wished they were not here. Like his son Ravi, who'd grabbed a bar stool too high for his height the moment he arrived and was now getting drunk. Like Ravi's wife, Mansi, whose face looked like soured milk, no doubt wondering why this was Aditi's engagement and not her daughter's. And her daughter Nehal, dressed head-to-toe in a garish orangey-peachy shade, stuck out like a sore thumb in the elegantly dressed crowd.

Not to forget his friend Dalpat, who stood in a far corner surrounded by his usual cronies. Balwant had a hard time keeping his eyes off that corner. Dalpat shouldn't be here. He should be home in his den, planning some ghastly revenge to settle the scores. The police he had deployed were successful in containing him for tonight, but Balwant knew it was coming - brutal retribution, something he'd dreaded for ages. A sheen of perspiration appeared on his brow. As if on cue, Dalpat raised his eyes.

His sharp gaze cut through the crowd to meet his. Balwant felt a stab of pain in his chest.

 

*****

 

"Here, sit here, and drink this."

Darsh helped the gasping man to a chair and handed him a glass of water. For a moment, he wondered if it was something serious, but the man made a valiant effort to regain his composure. Of course, this was too important an occasion to miss on account of a trivial heart attack. A look of understanding passed between the two men, and Darsh nodded his head. Patting Balwant's shoulder, he turned in the direction from where malaise erupted like heat waves. Unsurprisingly, his gaze fell on Dalpat Raisingh, the man who'd been planning his game for years.

"I think this is your chance, boy," Dawar's voice whispered in his ear. "Let's see how you handle him."

Darsh curled his lip. Straightening his jacket, he walked to the corner where Dalpat Raisingh stood with his cronies. It was the far corner of the ground, away from the crowd, a perfect place for a quick tête-à-tête in plain sight.

"Mr. Raisingh, Darsh Rathore. Nice to make your acquaintance." Darsh extended an arm to the man who looked at him with haughty disdain. His eyes flicked to his cronies, and the small group dispersed obediently.

"Pity, I can't say the same for you, boy. You don't know what you have got yourself into. If I were you, I'd scuttle away while I still can and save my hide." Dalpat Raisingh's gray eyes were full of malicious promise. Darsh raised his brow.

"I know full well what I am up to, Mr. Raisingh. It's you who needs to refresh your memory." Smiling slightly, he pulled his phone out to open a recent email. Attached to it was a zip file, quite large this time. Obviously, Dalpat Raisingh had a much more interesting life compared to Aditi.

"I have a little reminder for you if you care to look." Opening the file, he flicked through it, casually stopping at random pages. With each click, Dalpat's face lost more color. These were photos from his younger days when he jet-setted around the country each time with a new girl in tow. Each picture was followed by medical reports - some reported abortions, some recorded births. The last two were death certificates. The girls had died under mysterious circumstances.

"I must say you've lived quite a colorful life, Mr. Raisingh. Some say every racecourse in this country has a Raisingh bastard. Imagine if they know who sired them, you'll be inundated with paternity suits and compensation claims."

Dalpat licked his lips. Darsh carried on, flicking to the next folder.

"But then I suppose they would be an improvement on your legitimate son, Kabir. I hear he is quite fond of rave parties. An alcoholic, fraud, drug-addled, and prone to shag anyone with two legs - my detective's words, not mine." He raised his palms, stepping back in mock defense. Dalpat turned puce.

"That's enough! You'll pay for this! You don't know what I can do, boy. If I were you..."

"And your grandson...," Darsh carried on with utmost boredom. "The less said about him, the better. He shares all afflictions of you and Kabir, I'd prefer not to repeat them. To top it all..."

"I can dig into your past, boy. Don't think I don't know how insects like you worm their way up from their filthy gutters. I know what you did. I know what.." Dalpat spluttered helplessly.

Darsh shrugged.

"My past is an open book, Mr. Raisingh. Nothing is hidden. Balwant Sharma already knows whatever there is to know. It's your past I am concerned about. Think what I can do with it."

Dalpat watched ashen-faced, body shaking with rage. His past was an open book too, but he had never seen in a literal way as he was presented with tonight. That folder had the potential to ruin his family. Never before was he threatened this way, that too by a mere boy, a filthy mongrel from the back alleys of Delhi who'd somehow wormed his way here to spoil his plans. Taking a quivering step forward, he stared at the handsome face. Dark eyes, dark hair gelled back slickly, dark suit with not a speck of dust, the boy looked impeccable. It was impossible. No one was this spotless, and if they were, he had ways to deal with them.

"You have just invited your death, boy. Wait and watch."

"Careful Mr. Raisingh. That threat can work both ways."

"I hear you have a younger brother? And a mother too who is alone at the moment in Delhi?"

"And you have your spoiled son alone in Delhi. Well, not alone, he is at a party as we speak, enjoying himself with his... friends." Darsh tapped his mobile to open a video, available for his pleasure, live, curtsey his agent. It showed Kabir with another man. "If you wish, I can ask my agent to livestream this on social media. Or better yet, I can ask him to do something else. Surely he can make it look like Kabir slipped off a staircase, or got in a car accident. Whichever way you prefer Mr. Raisingh, I don't mind."

"You...dog! You bastard!! You'll pay for this!" Dalpat scrambled for words. Darsh looked on calmly, not in the least ruffled. His mother was safe. He always had people watching over her. In his line of business, he couldn't afford to be lax. And his brother was safe too, well, as safe as he could be in that hospital bed.

He took a step closer, and they stood face to face, nearly nose to nose. His voice dropped a few decibels to the level of the soft music playing in the background.

"If I were you, Mr. Raisingh, I'd take care of Vivaan. He has a habit of getting in trouble. I hear in school he was a notorious bully, they even called him violent, and mentally unstable. Such people need watching Mr. Raisingh. For their own safety, of course, nothing else."

The words were delivered softly, with the accuracy of a sharpshooter.

Dalpat's mouth hung open. "You dare! You dare to..."

"If I were you, I'd also leave this party, Mr. Raisingh. And leave Palampur first thing in the morning. I'd do everything in my power to save my son and grandson. I'd not like to spend the rest of my days mourning in loneliness as Balwant Sharma does for his son." He paused for effect, then shrugged his shoulders. "But of course, I am not you. So you are free to do as you please. Take care Mr. Raisingh. Have a good night."

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Giving a polite nod, he turned and walked back to where Balwant Sharma sat with his lawyer friend. Behind him, Dalpat Raisingh staggered towards the door.

"He is leaving!" Dawar sounded incredulous. Balwant smiled with relief flooding his face.

Darsh gave a shrug. It was too soon to rejoice. His trouble was far from over. In fact, it had just begun, Aditi had just entered through the door.

*****

A sudden hush fell over the crowd as every eye was drawn to the door. The sentries at the entrance of Queen's Lounge hung their heads in deference. Aditi entered, as usual taking controlled steps, owning the place and people by mere presence. The crowd gawked as if they'd seen a ghost.

And a ghost she was, Darsh sighed as he walked towards her. Her mother's ghost. Insanely beautiful, obscenely rich, and a hundred times more alluring in her current getup. And her father's ghost, with her dazzling smile and charisma, he remembered it clearly from the locket. People around here tonight knew it well too. Balwant Sharma looked dazed with pride, the others just stared, speechless in awe.

He himself was stupefied, such was her aura tonight. She was out for a kill, he could tell it in a single glance. Reaching closer he stood at the bottom of the stairwell that brought her down to him. She gave a dazzling smile and glided down as if a queen descending from her throne. With her each step, his heart beat faster, and his blood pumped in a wild rush. Her red chiffon rustled tantalizingly, the lace blouse hugging her curves exposed just enough skin to drive him crazy.

Beautiful was not the word, nor was mesmerizing. He wondered what to say, then decided to stick to the basics.

"You are late." His voice was quiet as she finally reached the last step, and stood head to head, matching his height. Their gazes met, and the golden pools of her eyes crinkled with a soft smile.

"I am sorry, I needed time to get ready for tonight."

Holding his gaze, she took the final step down onto the lawn when her heel twisted in the grass. She lurched sideways nearly crashing into him when his arm went around her bare waist to steady her up.

Heat rushed through his veins as he tried to hold himself. There was that eerie feeling again of being too close to his death.

"Careful." His voice went quieter if it was possible. She clung to him for a moment, before letting go.

"I'm sorry. I think it's just my leg playing up."

Another eye lock, this time full of concern. She patted his arm reassuringly.

"Well, well, well! Isn't it the most loved-up couple tonight!" A high-pitched voice broke their trance. Aditi turned startled at the interruption.

"Nothing like that, Mrs. Zaweri." She smiled coyly as a pink blush crept up her cheeks. "I think I caught my sandals in my saree."

Mrs. Zaweri gave a knowing wink. Aditi blushed deeper. Darsh pursed his lips, trying to hide his confusion. Luckily, Balwant Rai Sharma came to his rescue. Obviously, the man couldn't wait to get this over.

They were ushered to a podium where they exchanged rings. His was a platinum band encrusted with tiny diamonds. It once belonged to his Susheel, Balwant told him proudly. Hers was a delicate golden ring adorned with an emerald-cut diamond. He had ordered it especially, making his jeweler rush from Mumbai to deliver it in person. It matched perfectly with the rest of her jewelry, the diamond bracelets on her wrists, the pear drops dangling her ears. The delicate silver chain that hugged her tiny waist, laden with pearls, secured on a side with a rare solitaire.

Feeling unusually hot, he wrenched his eyes away from that waist. They landed on her slender neck and he gave a wry sigh. For all her glorious splendor, her neck was bare. She still hadn't found anything to fill her void.

"Let's have a dance!!" The crowd cheered in ecstasy as he held her possessively. They were ceremoniously led to a glittering dance floor.

She gave a dazzling smile and offered him her hand. He looked wary but took it readily. The music started slow and sensuous, they floated together in tandem. The dance with her was nothing like he had danced before. It was hard to tell who was leading whom. She swayed in his arms as if she couldn't get enough of him, utterly uninhibited as if they were the only ones on the floor. The touch of her bare waist under his palm was driving him crazy. He moved to her rhythm, barely able to think. She looked equally flushed, her honey eyes melting every time their gazes met.

After a while, they paused for a drink, bodies flushed, chests heaving with exertion. Her eyes darted around the crowd as if in search of someone.

"You are up to something." He commented dryly.

She raised a shapely eyebrow. "Why do you think so?"

"Because I know you." He said simply.

"You don't know me enough, it's been just a week." She said off-handedly.

He felt himself heating. "A moment is enough when it's the right person."

"And how do you know it's the right person?" Her eyes looked unsure.

"You know when you know," he pursed his lips. "It was love at first sight for your parents, too."

Her face flamed. She lowered her eyes and focussed on her glass.

He watched as she drank deeply, her translucent neck moving to the rhythm of the water. Her chest heaved with exhaustion, her dewy skin was flushed red. She picked a little tissue and dabbed at her wet lips before lifting her thick hair up to dab at her neck. He felt his hackles raise.

This was unfair. She was so close, so damn close, yet so far. The ring was not enough. How he was dying to touch her, to kiss those luscious lips senseless. To mark that creamy neck, to mark her as his own. Yet he couldn't do it. Hell, he wouldn't do it unless he wanted to screw his chances. Frustration coursed his veins as he grabbed her wrist. She looked at him startled. "What happened?.."

Her question was drowned in the noise of the bustling crowd. He marched her to a path that took them away from the crowd to an unused part of the garden. It was quieter here, the lights were dimmed. The bushes were thicker and laden with fragrant roses. He felt his desire stirring.

They stopped under a lamppost with shadows pooling at their feet. She looked at him puzzled, then back to the path in the direction of the party.

"What is the matter? We can't be here like this.."

"Can't we?" He asked scathingly. "Why not? We are officially engaged now, I think we have every right to be here."

She paled. "Look..please.."

He twisted her arm behind her to pull her close. She crashed into him, gasping in surprise as her soft body collided with his hard muscles. He bent forward his face nuzzling into her hair, filling himself with her heady scent. The infinite reserves of his patience suddenly dried up, filling him with an insane hunger he hadn't felt in ages.

"What are you doing? Leave me alone.." She tried to break free, but he kept his grip. Why would he let her go? She was his. From this day onward, She. Was. His!!

"Say my name!" He growled, his craze shining through his eyes.

She looked annoyed and wriggled again. "What? Don't be silly. Let me go.."

He used his other hand to grab her neck, turning her head to face him. She took one look at him and stopped moving.

"I said, call me by my name, Aditi." He twirled a loose ringlet around his index finger, making her shiver. "I've noticed you avoid it as much as possible."

She flushed, trying to get her bearings. "It's nothing like that. I just..."

"Then say it!" Tightening his grip he removed the last bit of air between them. His hot breath fanned her cheek telling her his intent. She braced her palms on his shoulder in a futile attempt to keep him at bay.

"What's gone into you? Why are you behaving like this?" Her questions came softly, eyes disarmingly innocent.

He gazed at her longingly as a stinging pain stabbed his heart.

She was faking. He had observed her for long enough to know it. There was something fishy, he could just smell it. Clenching his jaw he dug his fingers into the delicious curve of her waist. She flinched, but he was not bothered. She would not play with him. He was not someone to be trifled with.

"I am a patient man Aditi. I have been honest in my intentions. But that doesn't mean you can fool me. I know you are planning something. And if you decide to trick me, Aditi, let me warn you the consequences would be severe."

She stared at him through her lashes, their shadows played hide-and-seek on her pink cheeks. Her eyes descended to his lips, then back to his eyes.

"If you don't trust me why are you marrying me?" She asked accusingly, the honey in her eyes melting to fiery gold. He pursed his lips.

"My name, Aditi. I'm not in the mood for arguments."

She raised a gentle hand to cup his cheek. For a fleeting second, she looked lost; a shadow crossed her eyes muddying the honey pools. Then they cleared as she took a deep, bracing breath.

"Kiss me, Darsh."

His heart thudded. It took a moment for him to realize what she said. And once he realized, he couldn't hold back. His mouth descended on hers in a frenzy, he could hardly think straight. The soft touch, supple, sweet as honey filled his heart to the brim. He sucked, bit, pushed, pulled, and filled himself with her essence. It was still not enough, his restless heart yearned for more.

Gathering her in his arms, he stumbled backward, his back hitting the lamppost. The next few moments were the best of his life as he took his fill. The lips, the body, the scent, the woman. He just couldn't get enough of her.

A rustle of leaves in the nearby bushes made her pull back in shock. He was barely back to his senses when he saw her rushing back on the path.

***** *****

 

 

 

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