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“Have you met Raashi yet?” Harsh tapped the side of his glass as he carefully pushed the man towards his tipping point. “Have you offered your fel-ic-i-tat-ions?” He dragged the word out, sneering the entire time.
For one marvellous moment, he thought Anant was going to hit him. He would have welcomed it. But disappointingly, Anant had more control than expected.
“No,” he murmured. “I didn’t. I believe it’s Raashi’s wish that I never speak to her again.”
Dark pleasure slid through him at Anant’s words. Agastya shifted beside him, a subtle movement but one that told him his brother was there. For him and for Raashi.
“And yet, here you are,” Harsh drawled. “Why are you here, Mr. Madhavan?”
“I’d like to know that myself.” Ram Gadde came to stand on Harsh’s other side. “Why the fuck are you anywhere in the vicinity of my sister, Madhavan?”
He was bookended by overprotective brothers, Harsh thought wryly. His and Raashi’s. Maybe there was no ‘his and Raashi’s’ anymore. Maybe Anna was on to something. Family just expanded, like your heart did. Not replacing, just adding on like fucking compound interest or something.
“No clue what’s going on,” Aarush announced, coming to stand beside Agastya. “But I’m here for it.”
“And how exactly are you going to be useful, Reddy?” Ram asked him, side eyeing him.
Aarush paused. After a moment’s deliberation, he said, “I own acres and acres of property. If we need to bury a body somewhere, I’m your guy.”
Agastya groaned. “There will be no bodies buried.”
“Not even if he hurts your brother?” Aarush asked curiously.
Agastya levelled a flat look at Anant. “Then, I’ll bring the fucking shovel.”
Harsh laughed, this time a freeing sound. “Well, we’re waiting, Anant Garu,” he prodded at the man who was staring at the four of them.
For a moment, he thought Anant wouldn’t answer but then he did. “I needed to see for myself,” he said honestly. “I needed to know for sure.”
Harsh felt sorry for him. For a second and then it disappeared. This man had hurt Raashi. He didn’t know how and he didn’t know when. But he knew that he’d left scars in a woman so magnificent, she would take on a fire breathing dragon and live to tell the tale. And that Harsh couldn’t tolerate.
“Good,” he said briskly. “You’ve seen everything. Now go.” He nodded his head towards the entrance. “Go on. Get out.”
Anant’s hands clenched into fists and still, the asshole didn’t throw a punch. Harsh thought he might rival Agastya Anna for control.
“I’ll go,” he said, nodding at their little wall of muscle. “But only because she asked me to.”
He turned on his heel, stopped and then turned back to face them, his gaze going directly to Harsh.
“But when she’s done with you and calls for me, Kodela, and she will, believe you me she will…You can bet your fucking vapid acting career, that I will be there before she draws her next breath.”
Harsh placed his glass down on the bar counter before him and took a deliberate step forward.
“I was just admiring your self-control,” he told the other man. “You’re a lot like Agastya Anna that way. But you know what, Madhavan?”
“What?” the other man sneered.
“I’m not.”
He drew his hand back and let fly, the first punch shattering something in Anant’s nose, blood fountaining out of it and all over Harsh’s Tom Ford suit. He fell to the grassy ground behind, scrabbling for purchase, one hand pressed to his nose in a vain bid to get the bleeding to stop.
“Dammit,” Harsh complained. “It’s going to be a bitch to get this blood out of my shirt. I really liked it.”
Guards rushed over from all the hidden corners they’d been stationed at, forming a cordon around their little scene. In the distance someone screamed, melodramatics on cue.
“I’m going to sue,” Anant blustered, as someone helped him to his feet. “Everyone saw what happened. You hit me first.”
Harsh slung an arm around Ram’s shoulder. “Talk to my legal counsel please. I don’t have time to waste on you.”
