Page 75 of One Hellish Desire

Her jaw drops as she looks at me in horror. “What do you mean the marriage is not happening?”

“I told you, Maahi, I want complete access to my wife.”

She’s about to defend, but I complete my statement, not letting her speak. “Willingly,” I add.

She stares at me again. “I don’t see the willingness anywhere, Maahi. You have no interest in even trying.”

Maahi feels awkward discussing this, but it’s high time we clear it out.

“It’s not that we haven’t even kissed yet,” I add.

“None of those kisses were mutual to begin with,” she debates. “You took them.”

“But you gave in.”

She rolls her eyes at me, a sign of rudeness I consider, but I ignore it as Mom intervenes.

“I need to speak to you,” Mom says, looking straight into my eyes. She doesn’t even acknowledge Maahi, who is equally unbothered.

“Yes, mom,” I say taking another sip of coffee from Maahi’s mug and then follow my mother out.

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“So, your decision to marry that girl is final?” Mom asks me once we reach the drawing room.

“What’s so hard to believe, Mom?”

“Everything, Vikram,” she shouts. “I had so many dreams for your wedding and, most importantly, for your bride.”

“You can still fulfill them when I marry Maahi.”

“I don’t think so,” she snaps. “I cannot imagine you marrying that orph—”

“Mom,” I interrupt before she can finish. “She is going to be my wife, and I want the family to respect her in every way.”

I’ve never used that tone with my mother before, but it’s necessary to stop her from disliking my marriage decision and calling names to my fiancée.

“Fine. If that’s what you wish, do it. But I am not going to be part of this circus. I am leaving for the U.S. tomorrow.”

I’m shocked, but I don’t argue. “If that’s what makes you happy, I will never stop you from leaving. But I wanted my parents to be present when I legally marry. But I understand, Mom. I will drive you to the airport tomorrow. Let me know.”

I know she won’t leave after this. That’s how I manipulate her at times, and she knows it too. I use my son card whenever she uses her mother’s card. Mom glares at me. A part of me knows she has already agreed to my decision to marry Maahi.

“You have always done what you want, what you like, and I have appreciated it, but not this time. Maahi cannot be the right choice for you, and being your mother, I have full rights to warn you against this marriage. You both have no compatibility.”

“We have crackling chemistry,” I debate.

“She will not fit into our lifestyle in the U.S.”

“That’s my headache, not yours.”

“She will never leave your grandmother.”

“She doesn’t need to. We are taking Daadi along.”

“And her business? What about that? Do you think she will wind it up for you?”

“It’s our lookout how we deal with it, Mom. All these are petty issues.”

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