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“I can prove it,” he adds.
Now I am even more worried. Can he really prove it?
“If Shyam wanted Devki Estate, I would have sensed it by now. He has never spoken to me about that place, neither has his father.”
“Could be their strategy,” he interrupts. “They are playing safe, Cub.”
“Stop,” I growl. “Stop brainwashing me and don't call me Cub before Shyam or his father.”
Now I have piqued his interest again. His smirk scares me.
“So, I have permission to call you Cub when we are alone?”
Vikram takes a step towards me, and I literally have to run away before he pins me again. I reach for the door for turning to him.
“We are not kids anymore, Vikram. Behave! I am not available for your pin, pull, and push. I am taken, and you will see that tonight when Daadi and the Trivedis discuss my marriage with Shyam.”
I don't wait to gauge his reaction to my statement, but I know he will never take my warning seriously. He never has.
VIKRAM
I stand next to Daadi as she introduces me to Shyam's father.
“That is Manoharji, Shyam's father. He is a renowned builder in the country,” she says.
“I know,” I reply, shaking hands with him and then forcing a smile at Shyam.
“Please come in.” Daadi welcomes the two inside. She is too excited about this proposal, and I wonder why? I don't see anything normal with the Trivedis. They are too sweet, and I can sense they are dangerous too. Being in business myself, I can read people's faces, and the Trivedis don't give me good vibes.
We talk for a few minutes. It's mostly them asking me why I am here and until when. I don't damn like that question.
“This is my house, Mr. Trivedi,” I reply to Manohar. “I can come here whenever I want and stay here as long as I wish.”
“Of course,” he grins. “Devkiji misses you and your father a lot.”
“Uh... Where is Maahi?” Shyam asks Daadi.
“She is in the kitchen.”
Before Shyam can even think to go to her, I rise.
“I will go get her out.”
Seeing me participating, Daadi is stunned, and the Trivedis are shocked too. I make my way to the kitchen, and there Maahi is arranging the tea cups and kettle on a tray.
“Will you be able to hold that still?” I tease. She is wearing a simple salwar, but the dupatta is too heavy, which she has taken on one side of her shoulder. I am amazed at how good she looks in such traditional outfits. It kind of burns my body imagining Shyam would drool over her the moment she steps into the living room.
“Ask the servants to take it out,” I snatch the tray from her, but she takes it back.
“Don't teach me what I have to do. They have come here to see me, and Daadi has strictly told me to get this tray out.”
I can't believe this. I hate to admit that I am jealous.
“It's no use,” I spat, forcing a grin on my face. I don't want her to notice I am jealous. “All this drama is going to go to waste,” I add.
“What do you mean?” Her eyes go wide open.
“Means…” I reach closer and cover her dress's neck with the dupatta to ensure her creamy white neck is not quite visible to the guests outside when she shows her presence there.
