Page 10 of Born in Ruin

The elderly gentleman with copious hair sprouting from his ears finally ran out of steam, his speech drawing to a close. Thunderous applause burst through the room, probably in anticipation of the booze and food that was set to follow.

“Is it true?”

Her question was a quiet murmur, almost lost in the loud clapping.

“As your friend so eloquently put it, you know them, you’ve hung out with them, what do you think? Is it true?”

Mayukhi stayed silent, clapping along with the crowd.

“He’s the one who helped you with that article, isn’t he?” Ishaan asked, leaning back in his seat as the second speaker of the day stepped up on the stage. All around them, conversation picked up as they waited for the technical support to set up the presentation.

She tilted her head a little, glancing at him. “How did you know?”

A waiter appeared at their table, his tray laden with assorted drinks. Ishaan waited for Mayukhi to pick up her glass of white wine before he chose a scotch. He took a small sip from his glass, the crystal tumbler a heavy weight in his palm, before he answered her.

“He always cuts corners. If you’d paid fifteen percent more, the article would have appeared both online and offline and would have been included in partner publications. Another ten percent and you would have gotten front page, bottom half coverage. Top half would have needed you to pretty much buy the publication which wouldn’t have been worth the investment. But that fifteen percent more would have been money well spent. If you’re going to take someone down, Kraken, you need to commit to it.”

Mayukhi held his gaze, her large, dark eyes looking deep and mysterious in the ballroom lights, the irises reflecting the gleam of the chandeliers overhead. For all that he’d just told her she’dbeen stupid, she didn’t shy away from his gaze. She only looked thoughtful.

Audio feedback from the microphone on the stage sent out an earsplitting screech and had them wincing. Mayukhi looked away from him, directing her attention to the stage once more.

They sat through interminable speeches, applauding politely where required, before the floor was thrown open for the silent auction.

“Where are you going?” Mayukhi asked as he rose to his feet.

“I’m going to bid,” he said, nodding towards the items placed around the periphery of the large room. “That’s the point of this whole evening, isn’t it? Coming?”

She stood in one smooth motion, looping her hand through his bent arm, the picture of the perfect fiancée. Her perfume, a tangy citrusy scent seemed to wrap around him, a sultry bubble that had him feeling lightheaded as they walked towards the first item that didn’t have a crowd gathered around it. It was a collection of finger painting art done by the children of the slum that was the beneficiary of this evening. It didn’t have a single bid.

Ishaan scribbled down his bid and slipped the sheet back into place.

“Five lakhs?” Mayukhi’s eyebrows shot up. “For that?”

“Isn’t the point of charity to give, Kraken?”

“Sensibly,” she muttered.

Ishaan led them to a voucher for a three-course meal from a cloud kitchen that operated out of the slums. Again, one with no bids. He scribbled his name down.

“You’re a lunatic,” Mayukhi said, sounding completely disinterested. “God knows what water they’re making that food with. It will be a miracle if you don’t get typhoid or, hopefully, something, far worse.”

“Your care and concern warm the cockles of my heart,” he murmured, steering her over to where Naveen and some of the other Crestwood crowd were bidding on something out of sight.

“Nobody else is bidding on it for a reason. They’re using their brains. You’re asking for a trip to the hospital,” she insisted. She hadn’t yet noticed the direction he was steering her in.

“Game face on, Kraken,” he whispered, as they came to a stop behind the Crestwood bunch. Had he imagined the shiver that ran through her body when he’d put his lips to her ear?

“Here to bid on the yacht ride, Adajania?” Ashish, one of the Dusty Devils, sneered at them. “Think you can take us on?”

“No, of course not.” Ishaan smiled genially. “I don’t think. I know I can.”

“Where are your friends?” Another one of the gang, Parash asked. “Your posse didn’t join you?”

“My posse?” Ishaan laughed, holding his hand out for the bidding sheet. Ashish slapped it into his hand. He scribbled his bid down, ensuring he was almost double Ashish’s bid, which was the highest so far.

He handed the paper back to Ashish who ripped it out of his hand. “I’m not here with my posse. I’m here with my fiancée.”

Silence, damning silence fell over their toxic, little group. Mayukhi leaned into him, one hand sliding over his chest to toy with a button. She rested her head on his shoulder and smiled. “Surprise,” she said, with a throaty chuckle that went straight to parts of his body he didn’t want to think about at the moment.

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