Page 8 of Born in Ruin

He turned his back on the shell-shocked father and daughter pair and walked towards the door.

“You don’t have my number.”

Ishaan looked over his shoulder at her, an amused smirk tilting at his lips. “Don’t I?”

And then he walked out of the apartment, satisfied with how the meeting had played out. Step one was achieved. The rest would fall into place too. One step at a time.

FOUR

Mayukhi

I’ll take your daughter.

A feral growl rumbled in her chest as Mayukhi sat at her dressing table doing her makeup. She’d received a message from Ishaan,apparently, he did have her number, telling her to be ready by seven thirty for a formal, black-tie event. That’s it. No other explanation. The arrogance of that man was astounding. And she was looking forward to bringing it crashing to the ground.

She shimmied into her shapewear making sure it plumped her breasts up just right and smoothed out everything it should. She stared at her reflection critically. Was it enough? She wanted Ishaan Adajania to swallow his tongue when he saw her. She reached for the red sheath draped on her king size princess bed and stepped into it, drawing it over her hips and fastening it with the side zip. The dress left her shoulders bare, the curve of her cleavage rising out of the neckline, the fabric hugging her lean figure and amplifying assets while concealing flaws.

Mayukhi loosened the hair she’d bundled on top of her head and allowed it to flow down her shoulders, teasing and opening the curls out so it lay in beachy waves down her back. She picked up her bottle of Chanel Chance and spritzed herself liberally. A helper knocked on her bedroom door to inform her that Ishaan had arrived. Mayukhi took one last look at herself in the mirror and left the safety of her bedroom.

Ishaan Adajania had no idea whom he’d picked to tangle with. He might think he’d won their little skirmish, but Mayukhi was playing a long game. By the time this was done, she would grind him, his company, and his precious reputation into the dust.

He was waiting in the living room with her parents. Her father looked hostile and her mother’s botox wouldn’t let her express any emotion but Ishaan…he looked ridiculously comfortable and at ease. Resentment grew within her at the sight of how handsome he looked in his Brioni suit. She didn’t know much about what Ishaan had been up to in the intervening years between school and now, but he had certainly upped his fashion game. Or he had a stylist dressing him, she mused.

She stepped into the room and cleared her throat. For the briefest moment, she saw his face tighten at the sight of her, something indecipherable flashing in his eyes. Well, it wasn’t a tongue swallow, but it wassomething.

“Hello darling.” Ishaan stood as she entered the room. His amused smirk made her want to smack his smug face. “Ready to leave.”

Mayukhi didn’t bother to answer him. She looked past him to her parents and murmured, “I won’t be late.”

Her father nodded in acknowledgement and Mayukhi turned on her heel, walking towards the front door, not waiting for Ishaan to catch up.

He was hot on her heels, seconds later, one hand going to her lower back, the pressure of his large palm doing strange things to her nervous system. Revulsion, she told herself, that’s all it was.

“Easy there, Kraken. You could break your neck in those heels.”

Mayukhi gave him some disdainful side eye. “I could run a marathon in these heels without breaking a sweat, dipshit.”

They stepped out into the muggy Mumbai evening, Ishaan beeping his car open. Mayukhi stared at the Porsche 911 Carrera GTS before rolling her eyes and getting into the passenger seat. She was fastening her seatbelt when Ishaan rounded the bonnet and got in on the other side.

“You don’t like my car?” he asked, over the roar of its engine revving.

Mayukhi shrugged, looking out of the window as the crowded streets whizzed by.

“Seriously?” For the first time that night, he sounded a little miffed. “You have a problem with my Porsche?”

“You mean your my-dick-is-bigger-than-everybody-else’s car?”

Ishaan smiled. “It is,” he said simply, making her roll her eyes again.

They drove along in silence for a while before Mayukhi asked, “Where are we going?”

“Charity fundraiser.”

Mayukhi flipped through Mumbai’s social calendar in her head. There were three fundraisers this month which would make tonight’s the one for the redevelopment of the slums. She frowned, glancing over at Ishaan’s side profile. The dick had grown up to be ridiculously good looking. It was really annoying. But what was more annoying was that she couldn’t figure out his end game.

“Why do you care about the slums and the people living in it? Have the poor become fashionable or something?”

Ishaan’s jaw flexed, his hands tightening on the wheel of the car. “Fashionable was never on my radar.”

---