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“Are his fans planning to assassinate me or something?”
“Of course not.” Harsh finally joined the conversation.
“You don’t talk!” Hurt she’d buried so deep she’d thought it was forgotten flared, bringing with it an incandescent rage.
“Listen Viper-“
“No.” She spun on her heel to face him, her hands practically trembling with the force of her emotions. “You don’t get to talk after leaving me alone all night in that bloody hotel room to go fuck another woman.”
Harsh stopped mid stride, shock and fury racing across his expressive face.
“YOU. DID. WHAT?”
Ram and Agastya were both on their feet, Ram’s voice almost shaking the rafters. Raashi slammed a hand against Ram’s chest to stop him when he took a step towards Harsh.
“It’s not important,” she told her brother, still looking at Harsh whose eyes were boring into her with a burning intensity that could have melted the ice caps in the Arctic. “I don’t care about that. I want to know what this amateur council was discussing. If it’s about me, then I deserve to know.”
No one answered. And she had her reply. It was about her. The testosterone in this room was enough to have her gagging.
Harsh hadn’t looked away from her, something undefinable churning in his eyes as he watched her watch him.
“Oh my God,” she breathed, a lightbulb going off in her head. “This is about Anant.”
No one said a thing. But after a beat, Harsh nodded, a tiny, miniscule movement. But it was all the confirmation she needed. Her hand swung before her brain could stop it, connecting with his cheek with a crack that resounded in the room.
Harsh didn’t flinch, his gaze didn’t waver from hers and his expression didn’t change by a microcosm. The only sign that any of that had happened was his cheek reddening from the contact.
“How dare you? How dare any of you?” She turned in a slow circle forcing them all to meet her eyes. “How dare you try to interfere in my life without including me in the conversation?”
“We can have a conversation with someone only if they participate in it.”
Harsh’s voice was cold, flinty and harsh. Raashi had never heard him sound like that before.
“You’ve had plenty of opportunity to speak to me, to any of us, and ask for help. But you’ve shut that avenue down multiple times. So, don’t blame us for going around you, Viper. We had no choice.”
“You do have a choice,” she told him, equally coldly. “You can stay the fuck out of my life.”
Harsh laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. “That’s not going to happen. In case you slept through the festivities, let me refresh your memory. You’re my wife now. Your life is my life. Your problems are my problems. You are my problem.”
“Says who?”
“Says me!” Harsh roared.
The shock of hearing Harsh, of all people, raise his voice silenced the entire room.
“Says me,” he said more quietly. “And I will take care of you, whether you like it or not.”
Forty-Three
HARSH
Raashi turned on her heel and stormed out of the room. Harsh followed right on her heels. He heard Ram call his name but ignored him, letting the heavy study doors close behind him, shutting the others out.
“Raashi!”
She ignored him, almost running now as she took the stairs two at a time to their wing. The last of Harsh’s fraying control snapped and he chased after her. He caught up to her just as she entered their bedroom and tried to close the door in his face. He pushed his way through and shut it at his back. He turned the lock, the decisive click resonating in the quiet of the room.
Chests heaving, wild eyed, hair flying, they stared at each other.
