Megz's Fantasy SS: Jeet, chapter 5, pg20 - Page 12

Four

"Hey, coward, where do you think you are going?" Maanvi asked angrily, running down the beach, her hair blowing across her face. After Virat had walked out, she had spent precisely two seconds staring at the wall, stunned, before pulling out a bathrobe from her luggage and sprinting out the door. If seduction didn't work, well, she would have to go for the jugular vein.

"I'll show you what manhood is, you wench," he cursed, turning around to look her in the eye. She came to a stop, triumphantly putting her hand on her hips. "Answer me damnit!" she screamed, trying her best not to cry due to the frustration of it all. "Are you planning to do anything husbandly with me? Or are you just planning to desert me here?"

"Don't be stupid," he scoffed, "I can't possibly desert you here. It's a resort, other couples come here to honeymoon too. And if I wanted to get rid of you, I could have just buried you in the sand."

He expected another flying retort, but instead, he just heard an earth-shattering screech. Before he knew it, the angry young woman in front of him had morphed into a beautiful, feral beast, pummeling into him till he felt the breath collapsing out of his lungs. She was pounding his fist into his chest, and he had absolutely no time to react or to out-maneuver here. He was putty in her hands. Finally, the famous Vadhera 'manhood' ended up coming to his rescue, and he grabbed his shoulders and tackled her onto the sand.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his eyes blazing, like a burning log. He looked at her, curled up on the ground, wailing in the most heart-wrenching manner. She was a broken woman. But her eyes scared him. They were filled with the same fire, and he gripped her hands tightly, should she attack him again.

"It's no use fighting you know," he said calmly. "This is your fate. Accept it."

"No way!" she shouted angrily. "No frickin way! I want an annulment, you get that? I want this marriage destroyed. I don't care if we have to elope to another country or convert to some other religion for it. But there's no way I'll ever let anybody know that I am your wife?"

"Why not?" he asked, all his sympathy melting away. "What's the difference really? It's not like your fate would have been any different if you had married my brother. You would have come to the same house, honeymooned in the same resort, and had the same in-laws. You would have still inhabited the same world of skullduggery where everyone is willing to sell you out to protect their own fortunes and reputations. In fact, even if the Vadheras had never asked for your hand, you would have been stuck in the same world anyway. You would have been married into another bunch of theives."

"But, but" she struggled, but she was at a loss for words. She knew that the argument was hopeless. What was she feeling so angry for? She should have felt angry the day Beeji had taken control of her life and decided her groom for her.

"But what?" he taunted. "Oh right, because I am Virat, not Viren. Is that your problem? What a rat I am? Of course, Viren is fair and handsome and good-hearted and everything you girls expect from your husbands. He is kind and never mind if he never looks at you like this," and she shivered as his eyes swept across her body, "never mind if he allows his brother to take advantage of your body like this," and she shivered as his hands cupped her breasts.

"That-tthat's not true," she quivered.

"Of course it is Chaudhary," he sneered. "Truth is, my own family never really knew what to do with me. I was so dark-skinned, so blunt, so unlike the rest of them. The only thing that was the same was the streak of cunningness which the Vadheras are famous for. My mother used to call me a 'changeling' though of course, what she really meant is, that she had an affair with the gardener when I was conceived."

Maanvi gasped. How could anybody talk about being illegitimate right to her face? Virat smirked. "That was the exact look on Viren's face when I asked him about it. He told me to keep shush and these were adult's matters and that I had no right to interfere in them. But I've never been one to keep quiet."

He rolled off her, so that they both were lying in the sand, their chests rising and falling in tandem. The sea breeze blew across their faces, and Maanvi felt her energy draining away from her and being replaced by a peculiar calmness.

"Life with the Vadheras is hell Chaudhary," he said looking at her. "You never know whom to trust, whom to be friends with. There are no friends in my world."

"None in mine either," she whispered. If she really had friends, they would have intervened when they found out that their brother-in-law was getting replaced. Instead, she had ladies-in-waiting who dressed her up and told her, "Add saffron to his glass of milk. It's a great aphrodisiac."

"Exactly," he said. "So what are you so angry for?"

"I don't know," she said, but the truth was, she knew, and she didn't want to admit it to him. It wasn't the Vadheras she was angry at, or even Beeji. It was herself. For the past twenty-five years, she had allowed people to do whatever they liked with her, without caring for the repurcussions. She had been controlled by a group of fiends, made to feel like a part of their illegal activities. Not once had she spoken up against them or tried to assert herself, and somewhere, she had failed her parents. The marriage hadn't made her unhappy-she'd always been discontent, just that Virat Vadhera was the only one who seemed to make her realize it.

"Virat, do you believe in love?" she asked softly.

"No," he said, so sharply, that she was startled. "What will I do with love? The woman I love will constantly be at threat from my enemies. Anybody could take her hostage and use that as an excuse to get their work done from me. Not to mention, my work is my first love. When I come home late at night, she will feel neglected. When I defend somebody who is not of a good characer, she will question my morality. Women enjoy me only in bed. Even the ones who are unlucky enough to fall in love with me, eventually realize that I am a monster."

"You're not a monster," she wanted to say. "You're the truth." Nobody had ever served the answer to her questions on a platter the way he had.

"Do you believe in making love?" she asked, and he smiled, and took her into his arms. Now that the anger, the hatred, the frustration was gone, the understanding was all they had. When they were finished, she said, "I still haven't completely forgiven you, you know."

"'Tis okay," he said sleepily. "This is our life, and we should live in the moment." He ruffled her hair, already feeling a tinge of affection for his wife. She didn't say anything-she was already lost to the night sky.