Page 12 of Born in Ruin

“Fucking hell.” The irritated mutter from Naveen had them moving apart slowly.

Mayukhi glanced away from the people she considered friends of sorts and at the rest of the room. There were a lot of amused smirks and interested glances coming their way. She noticed people lowering their phones and turning away as she caught their eye. Whatever Ishaan’s agenda had been, she was sure he’d achieved it. She pressed shaky fingers to her lips before firming them and forcing a sultry smile.

“Easy baby,” she whispered, staying in character. “Let’s save something for later.”

Ishaan smiled tightly, for once his trademark smirk seeming to fail him. He took a deep breath and released her.

“Move,” he said to Ashish, who was still gaping at them.

When Ashish didn’t immediately move, Ishaan shouldered him aside, pulling Mayukhi along, her hand tightly gripped in his, as he walked over to bid on something again. Her heart was just slowing down from its heart attack inducing speed when she peeked over his shoulder to see what he was bidding on.

“Free daycare services for a month?” Her eyebrows shot up as she watched him scribble on the paper with his chicken scratch handwriting. “You have a child?”

He gave her a derisive sneer but didn’t reply before marching over to another free spot at the auction table. She gave up on trying to make sense of him or the way his brain worked.

“I need to use the restroom,” she murmured before yanking her hand out of his grasp and walking away. She pushed through the crowd and out of the hall before walking down the long,marbled corridor in search of the bathroom. She spotted it tucked away in the corner and heaved a sigh of relief.

The door was yanked open from the inside even before she could touch the doorhandle. A trio of giggling teenagers streamed out, their bubbly chatter feeling like a drill was being used inside her skull. She stepped aside to let them pass before entering the now blessedly quiet bathroom.

She sank down on the small chaise lounge in the corner, slipping her heels off and resting her back against the wall, the cool marble providing welcome relief to her overheated skin. Mayukhi closed her eyes, allowing herself a moment to shed the repulsive role she’d been playing all night. It hadn’t all been repulsive, her traitorous mind reminded her. Mayukhi’s cheeks flushed as her body reacted immediately to the memory of that kiss.

What the hell had that been about?

The door to the restroom was pushed open. Mayukhi’s eyes snapped open. Naveen’s wife, Sriranjini Kumar, stood there, her designer dhoti and kurta set fluttering in the draft of the air conditioner.

Right on time, Mayukhi thought with satisfaction, as she straightened on the lounge. “Hi Sri,” she said, mildly, shifting to make space for her on the seat.

“What the hell are you doing, Yukhi?” Instead of taking her up on her silent invite, Sri moved to the sinks to wash her hands.

Mayukhi allowed her lips to stretch in a smile, hopefully a believable one. She glanced down at her hands, finding it a little difficult to hold the other woman’s gaze. “Falling in love,” she said softly.

“Yukhi!” With an exasperated huff, Sri dropped on to the chaise beside her. “Really? Withhim?”

“Him?” Mayukhi repeated, genuinely offended by the derision in the word though she’d always known the way her friends viewed the world. She’d been guilty of it by association too, hadn’t she? She’d certainly never fought them on their classism and elitism. She’d gone along with it, hadn’t she? Because it had been the easy option and Mayukhi liked life to be easy.

And yet, here she was, in the middle of the hardest mess of her life. She had a tightrope to walk, one between the life she’d had and chosen and the one Ishaan was forcing down her throat. Mayukhi didn’t appreciate being forced.

“Come on, Yukhi.” Sri wrapped a comforting hand around Mayukhi’s shoulders. “You can do better than him. He may have come into some money over the years but let’s not forget who he really is.”

Mayukhi stayed silent. People could never handle silence. They always rushed to fill it with words. Sri was no different.

“The son of a gambler who didn’t even have the money for his school uniform. You don’t remember how his too big pants used to drag along the floor when he’d walk or how his sports t-shirts were practically crop tops.”

“He was a scholarship student,” Mayukhi said, meeting her own eyes in the mirror across the wall. The easy life, she thought, the path of least resistance. “Which means he was smarter than all of us, a fact that shows in the success of his company.”

“Didn’t you come to Naveen to plant that media article about him a few days ago? Where was the love then?”

Mayukhi smiled. It never reached her eyes. “Come on, Sri. How else was I going to get him to notice me?”

“Unbelievable.” Sri shook her head. “Is he that good in bed or what?”

Mayukhi allowed the memory of that kiss to rise to the surface, bringing a rosy flush to her cheeks. “Better,” she murmured.

“The guys are pissed, Yukhi.” Sri said, though she smiled at the sight of Mayukhi’s blush. “They don’t like you hanging out with him.”

“Why?” Mayukhi frowned. “The scholarship thing. Come on, Sri, his net worth is more than most of the people in the group now. What does it matter where he came from?”

“It always matters where they come from, Yukhi,” Sri said repressively. “Blood always tells and bad blood, it tells faster.”

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