Page 95 of One Hellish Desire

Last night, Shyam messaged me, claiming he knew who Vikram was sending to Devki Estate and why. Since Vikram refused to tell me, I decided to get the details from Shyam.

“What’s the hurry? Let’s have coffee first.”

“I’m not here to spend time with you, Shyam. I want answers. Give them to me, or I’m leaving.”

“Uff,” he grins cheekily. “You haven’t changed a bit. Still the same short-tempered Maahi, except for all these fake signs of marriage.”

Now I’m pissed.

“They’re not fake. I married Vikram Singh Grover.”

“Wrong. That’s not a marriage; it’s a contract. You married him so he’d leave the property ownership. But he didn’t, did he?”

I’m surprised he knows this. Maybe he guessed. He’s always been good at guessing. I don’t let his words affect me.

“Is that why you called me here? To gloat over my loss?”

Shyam shakes his head and tries to hold my hand, but I pull away.

“I thought we were still friends, if nothing else,” he teases.

“I’m done here.”

I’m about to leave when he speaks.

“Okay, let me get to the point. Vikram is building something on that land. That’s why he’s called people for measurements tomorrow. I’ve heard they’re soon going to let their real estate partner take over that place.”

Words choke in my mouth. Shyam shows me photographs of Vikram shaking hands with some people.

“These are the best real estate agents and builders. These pictures were taken on your wedding day. What is Vikram doing with them? Don’t you think something is fishy?”

I swallow the painful knot in my throat. Vikram wasn’t at Ratna Mahal on our wedding day because I had told him I wouldn’t travel to the US and leave Daadi alone. Is that why he shook hands with these people? I know Vanraj uncle wants to run his business on that land, but I hoped Vikram wouldn’t shatter Daadi’s dreams. I was wrong.

VIKRAM

I’m home at my penthouse in the US, where I’ve lived with my parents for the last decade. It used to be my only place of solace, but since returning from India, I haven’t found peace anywhere—not at work, not at home. Friends, relatives, and business associates haven’t stopped congratulating me on my wedding, and everyone wants to know about Maahi. Every time her name comes up, I’m lost in my own world. The last month I spent in India was the best. The moments with Daadi and Cub will always remain in my heart.

“Vikram,” Mom enters my bedroom, dressed for a party. “You’re late. Didn’t I tell you we have a party tonight?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I loosen my tie.

“Don’t say that,” she frowns. “Mr. and Mrs. Patel will feel bad. And Sabrina won’t be happy if you don’t show up.”

Sabrina. She’ll give me a hard time, but I can handle her.

“I’ll call Sabrina. Don’t worry about her.”

I head to the shower, hoping Mom will leave, but she follows me.

“Sabrina and her parents are throwing this party for you. Don’t you think they deserve your presence?”

They do, but I’m not going. I start stripping, earning a groan from Mom. Before she can say anything, my phone rings. It’s Maahi, and I’m desperate for a shower, so I put her on speaker.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Maahi’s harsh tone reminds me she must have seen my men at Devki Estate.

“Right now, I’m stripping,” I reply shamelessly, and a quick silence follows.

“You are with a woman?” she asks, hurt.

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