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HARSH
Harsh had never paid much attention to Anant Madhavan growing up. Why would he? The man had been more than a decade older and Harsh had been busy rebelling with his chosen weapons, alcohol and women. But he was paying attention now…
There was something wrong in the interactions between Raashi and the older man. With over twelve years between them and the shared business history between her father and Anant, he should have been an honorary brother or uncle figure, at best. And yet…the man exerted far more authority over her than warranted. And he seemed almost jealous of Harsh, a fact that had his sixth sense vibrating. The constant taunts and insults were juvenile and not befitting of a man of his stature.
Not that Harsh knew anything about what passed for befitting of anybody’s stature. He smiled as an elderly aunt pinched his cheeks and made ribald suggestions about what he should do on his upcoming wedding night. Harsh wanted to tell her he could teach her a thing or two to take home to his uncle that night, but he didn’t want to find out if his father still had his favourite leather belt around. Harsh had seen enough of that bloody thing growing up.
So, he smiled and played up his supposedly endearing boyishness until he had all the women, of all age groups, eating out of the palm of his hand. And through it all he watched his bride-to-be.
Raashi was keeping secrets, he mused. He had no issues with that. They all had secrets, him more than anyone else. He didn’t grudge her any of her secrets. But he did need to know if this was going to explode on his family’s doorstep. His wasn’t a family that could afford that.
Veda said something to Raashi who smiled and shook her head. Was it his imagination or was that smile strained? Raashi looked both ways before murmuring something to her sister and stepping away to walk over to her brother. Harsh excused himself from the women who were trying to find excuses to stroke him in places he would need to sanitise later and followed.
Halfway there, he found Aadhya staring at her phone and muttering to herself. He slung an arm over her shoulder, propelling her towards where he wanted to go. “What’s up Reddy? What’s got you all worked up now?”
“I’m being sued.” Aadhya didn’t glance up from whatever she was doom scrolling on her phone.
“Sued?” Harsh’s eyebrows shot up. Everyone had shit stirring in their lives, it would seem. “What the fuck for?”
“For literally nothing,” she fumed, slamming her phone into the palm of her other hand. “Anna and Nanna are going to kill me if I don’t get it sorted out.”
They’d arrived at Harsh’s target destination, and he gave her what he knew was a condescending pat on her head purposely fueling her temper.
“There there,” he murmured, smiling to irritate her further. “It will all got sorted out.”
“How?” Aadhya erupted, her fiery temper slipping its leash. Ram and Raashi turned towards them surprised at her outburst. “How exactly is it going to get sorted out?”
“If only we knew a lawyer who could help,” Harsh said mournfully, widening his eyes and looking at Ram over Aadhya’s out of control, curly head. Ram glowered back at him.
“I know a million lawyers, Harsh,” Aadhya snapped, still not getting his point. “None of them can help me if my family murders me first.”
“I’d be happy to represent your family once they do,” Ram offered. Aadhya’s head turned towards him, a lot like the demon’s head spun in The Exorcist. Harsh suppressed the urge to cross himself.
“Nobody asked for your input Gadde,” she said, the words clipped and precise.
“And yet,” he replied, words shooting out like bullets. “It would seem you need it.”
Harsh resisted the urge to rub his hands together and cackle with glee while he muttered, “Mischief Managed.”
Instead, he grabbed a wide-eyed Raashi by the elbow and eased her away with a quiet, murmured, “Excuse us.”
“What is with the two of them?” she asked as Harsh hustled her out of there and towards the hotel building that loomed over the lawns where the cocktail party was happening.
Harsh shrugged. The dynamics between Ram and Aadhya were off but he’d long since come to accept that their families were odd. Best to just accept it all and move on.
“Harsh, where are we going?” Belatedly clocking their trajectory, Raashi sighed as they entered the air-conditioned confines of the hotel, the blast of cool air a welcome relief from the humid warmth of the lawns.
“Somewhere we can talk,” he said grimly.
“Why?” she asked, trying to dig her heels in but he kept propelling her further down the hall.
“Because we need to.” His terse response didn’t seem to reassure her. Good. It was time they dropped their masks and spoke frankly.
Stopping at the reception, he smiled at the young girl behind the very large desk. She promptly dropped the stapler she was holding on to her foot. Harsh winced at her cry of pain. She did her best to conceal the fact that she would be limping soon and simpered at him.
“I’m sorry.” He tried to dim his smile. “I’m-“
“I know who you are.” It was a hushed, awed whisper.
