Page 48 of One Hellish Desire

“Language, Mom,” I tease.

I know she’s smiling now. We’ve always been informal with each other. She knows about my teenage crushes and has tried to set me up with many of her friends’ daughters. She’s the only one I can go shopping with or accompany to spas and salons. But what I can’t share with her is my growing obsession for Maahi, knowing she wouldn’t approve.

“What was that girl doing in your bedroom?” she asks, as if reading my mind.

“Her name is Maahi,” I reply.

“I don’t care what her name is. What was she doing in your room? How can you let someone like her even touch your phone?”

That infuriates me.

“Someone like her?” I snap. “What does that mean?”

“She’s a nobody, Vikram. Your grandmother may have taken her in, but she’s still a nobody to our family.”

I’m already hating this conversation.

“Don’t entertain such people around you,” she continues. “And stay away from her.”

“I’m mature enough to make my own choices, Mom,” I reply harshly. I don’t mind if she picks up on my tone. But she can’t insult Maahi.

“I hope I don’t have to worry about what’s going on at Ratna Mahal. Why do I feel you’re being dragged into their mess unnecessarily? Your dad told me Maahi’s engagement broke off, and you were behind it. Am I right?”

“That man wasn’t right for her.”

“That’s their problem. Why did you get involved?”

Phenomenal.

“Mom, as I said, I know what I’m doing here and why. You and Dad can’t make those judgments from the USA. Anyway, I have to go. Sleep well. We’ll talk soon.”

I wait for her to acknowledge, but she asks something else.

“I thought your grandmother was the reason for your extended stay in India. I think I’m wrong. You’re not there just for her... but for Maahi too.”

I swallow. Moms always know. No one can hide anything from them, even from thousands of miles away.

“Is she beautiful?” she continues to grill.

“Bye, Mom. I’m in a hurry. I’ll call you later. Bye.”

I disconnect and sit on the bed, trying to regain my composure. Now that Mom has a hint, I don’t think she’ll let this go easily.

MAAHI

Meera Singh Grover's attitude always makes me feel inferior. I remember when she first visited with her family years ago. I was new here, barely connected to anyone except Daadi. She didn’t even acknowledge me as part of this family. Once, during lunch, she questioned Daadi about allowing me to eat with them. Daadi was hurt but stood up for me. That moment made it clear: Meera Singh Grover would never be my ally.

Back in my room, my unfinished conversation with Prince Pompous haunts me. His words echo in my mind, setting my skin ablaze:

“I don't mind putting on some clothes with you gawking at me.”

“I don't intend to finish anything that's related to you, Cub.”

The mere recall of his tone and the implications behind those statements burns my skin. Why do I behave so strangely around him? This isn’t like me.

“Maahi,” Daadi’s voice startles me. I didn’t see her after the Holi celebration. I turn, offering a weak smile. She’s as composed as ever. Her eyes fix on the red stain in my hair partition. She’s going to ask about the incident. Before she does, I explain.

“I’m sorry, Daadi. I didn’t know he’d react like that. It’s my fault. I colored him rudely, and he responded in kind. I know it doesn’t justify his actions, but…”

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