Page 105 of One Hellish Desire

“Sabrina Patel is not from the Grover family, so her orders don’t count. If they get to know you delayed us, I don’t think they will be happy.”

“Ma’am, I understand, but I need someone from the Grovers to approve your access to the private elevator. Only then can I allow you to go.”

“Maahi Ma’am?”

A familiar voice from behind makes me turn around. A tall man, looking fairly handsome, strides to me with a smile on his face. I have no idea who he is, but he seems to know me.

“Boss didn’t tell me you are coming to New York.”

When I don’t recognize him, he introduces himself.

“I am Ajay, Vikram Sir’s personal assistant.”

Ajay? I recall speaking to him once and hearing about him a lot from Vikram.

“What are you both doing here?”

“She is not willing to give me the access codes for the elevator, and Sabrina Patel denied us entry.”

“What? That’s... Oh... Never mind.”

Ajay turns to the receptionist and winks at her.

“Hey, sweetie, you are messing with the wrong person. She is Vikram Singh Grover’s wife, Maahi Singh Grover. Give her the access codes before...”

“His wife?” The receptionist looks apologetically at me and quickly starts typing something to give me the access codes. I thank Ajay, who acknowledges and quickly meets Daadi while I collect the codes.

“I can come to drop you upstairs.”

“No, thanks, Ajay. We will manage from here.”

“Sure.” He happily pulls the bags inside the elevator for us and then presses the button. I can never forget what happened today, and I am so eager to meet this woman, Sabrina Patel.

VIKRAM

The private elevator bell rings, signaling the pizza delivery guy's arrival. I barely glance up, too absorbed in my laptop to care. Mom has invited Sabrina for dinner to celebrate her success with the Shenoy Group of Hotels contract. While Mom and Sabrina set the table, I remain buried in work, impatiently waiting for updates on where Daadi and Maahi have flown for their one-week trip. I’d asked Maahi to inform me as soon as they arrived, but she hasn't yet. If I don't hear from them soon, I'll call them myself. Their security is non-negotiable.

“I think the pizza boy is here. Go grab it, Sabrina,” Mom says, and Sabrina heads to the elevator.

The moment the elevator doors open, a rush of air sweeps over me, and I feel her presence before I see her. It's her. My wife. My Maahi!

I spring up from the couch, hurrying over to Daadi and Maahi. While Daadi’s face is alight with joy, Maahi’s eyes shoot daggers, darting between me and Sabrina.

“I thought it was the pizza boy. Anyway, who are you?” Sabrina asks Maahi arrogantly. Maahi doesn’t answer; her eyes lock onto mine instead.

“She’s my wife, Maahi Singh Grover,” I announce.

Maahi’s expression shifts briefly to satisfaction before her gaze hardens again. She looks ready for a fight, and I have no idea why. Sabrina freezes, staring at Maahi from head to toe. I turn to Daadi, touch her feet for blessings, and give her a hug.

“How was my surprise?” Daadi cups my cheek.

“Ecstatic,” I say, kissing her forehead.

“Maa?” Dad and Mom emerge. “This is such a pleasant shock.”

Daadi blesses Dad and hugs him tightly. It's clear how much she’s missed him, even though it’s only been a few days since we left for New York. My heart aches for her. How did she endure so many years without us? I wish I could turn back time and fix everything. Mom hugs Daadi next but neglects to touch her feet for blessings, which is typical for her.

I move to Maahi, who notices the spark in my eyes. As Dad and Mom chat with Daadi about the surprise visit, I focus entirely on Maahi, who looks stunning in black jeans and a peach color crocheted top that shows a glimpse of her midriff. My eyes linger on the sindoor in her hair partition, the silky ponytail, and the mangalsutra around her neck—shorter and different from the one I put on her during our wedding.

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