Chapter 10: 10. His possessiveness

As I surveyed the opulent ballroom, my gaze inevitably gravitated towards Mayura. She stood there, a beacon of beauty amidst a throng of admirers, her presence radiating an almost ethereal glow. The murmurs and whispers of the crowd seemed to converge on her, their collective attention a palpable force. A surge of possessiveness coursed through me, and with determined strides, I made my way towards her.

Without uttering a single word, I closed the distance between us and wrapped my arm around her waist, drawing her close to my side. The gesture, though subtle, was unmistakable—a silent declaration of ownership. The atmosphere in the room shifted, as if holding its breath in reverence of the silent assertion of my power. Heads bowed, acknowledging the unspoken hierarchy that I commanded.

Mayura’s eyes met mine, and for a moment, I was ensnared by her gaze. She was breathtakingly beautiful, her smile a radiant beacon in the dimly lit room. A pang of pride and protectiveness surged within me, a fierce conviction to keep her safe and close. It dawned on me with startling clarity: she was mine. My wife. The very thought was both exhilarating and daunting.

I leaned in, my voice a low whisper meant only for her ears. “You’re mine, Mayura. Mine to protect.” Yet, her attention remained fixed on the sudden reverence of the crowd, her focus elsewhere.

As I engaged in conversations with my business associates, my gaze was inevitably drawn back to Mayura. She was effortlessly charming those around her, her grace and warmth making her the center of attention. Just as I was about to conclude my discussion, she leaned in close and whispered in my ear, “I want to go to Maa.”

A moment of hesitation gripped me. The thought of letting her out of my sight filled me with unease. Nevertheless, I nodded in acknowledgment, watching as she excused herself and moved toward Maa.

Despite my efforts to stay engaged in the business discussions, my attention was constantly diverted to Mayura. I observed her interacting with Maa and noticed a sudden shift in her demeanor as her parents approached. Her body language tensed, a flicker of distress crossing her face. Maa intervened swiftly, guiding her away from her parents with a comforting presence.

It was clear that Mayura’s relationship with her family was strained, and their presence troubled her. But why? I couldn’t ignore the knot of curiosity and concern tightening in my chest.

The evening continued, but my focus remained on Mayura. As I glanced up, I saw her walking hand in hand with Rajveer towards the dance floor. A jolt of anger and jealousy surged through me. Rajveer, the notorious playboy with a reputation for reckless charm, was now holding Mayura’s hand. The sight was enough to ignite a storm of possessive fury within me.

Rajveer’s hand rested possessively on the small of her back, his fingers tracing patterns that sent a shiver of discomfort through me. Mayura appeared oblivious to the potential danger. My instincts screamed at me to intervene.

Maintaining a semblance of calm, I approached them with purposeful strides. Rajveer’s eyes met mine, and for a fleeting moment, a silent challenge passed between us.

“Rajveer,” I said, my voice controlled yet laced with an undercurrent of menace. “It’s time I take my wife back. She’s mine, after all.”

Rajveer’s smirk faltered. He took a step back, his eyes locked on mine. “Ah, Mr. Shekhawat, always the possessive husband, aren’t you?”

“I’m not possessive, Rajveer. I’m stating facts. Mayura is my wife.”

Rajveer’s face darkened, but he knew better than to push me further. With a begrudging nod, he stepped aside. I wrapped my arm around Mayura’s waist, pulling her close, feeling her tense under my touch.

Mayura’s eyes widened in confusion. “What’s going on?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

I didn’t respond immediately. My focus was on Rajveer, who retreated to the periphery of the dance floor. I pulled Mayura into a dance, our bodies moving in rhythm, but the air between us was charged with tension.

Mayura’s eyes searched mine, seeking answers I was unwilling to provide. “Mr. Shekhawat, what’s wrong?” she asked, her voice gentle but tinged with concern.

“Nothing, wifey,” I replied, my tone sharp despite my efforts to mask my frustration. “Just enjoying the music.”

“But you’re hurting me,” she said, wincing as my grip tightened involuntarily.

I eased my hold, but my anger and possessiveness remained simmering just below the surface. “Sorry,” I muttered, though my apology was laced with residual frustration. “I didn’t mean to.”

Our dance continued, the movements graceful but underscored by unspoken emotions. I forced a smile, trying to convey concern while masking the turmoil roiling within me. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. That’s all.”

As the music crescendoed, our dance became more intense, our bodies moving in sync but our minds were miles apart. Mayura’s gaze remained locked on mine, a silent plea for understanding. My possessiveness and jealousy felt like an uncontrollable beast inside me, and my earlier composure had frayed under the weight of my own emotions.

When the final notes of the music faded, I grasped Mayura’s hand tightly, a fierce possessiveness driving my actions. “Let’s go,” I growled, my voice low and husky with unresolved intensity.

Without waiting for her response, I led her towards my car. The urgency in my stride left her struggling to keep up, her heels clicking on the pavement in an erratic rhythm.

I yanked open the car door and guided her inside. The door slammed shut, sealing us away from the prying eyes of the party. I turned to her, my eyes blazing with a mix of desire and frustration.

“We’re going to my palace,” I declared, my voice dripping with possessiveness.

Mayura’s eyes widened in surprise, her lips parting in a mix of confusion and apprehension. “Mr. Shekhawat, what’s going on?”

My mind was a whirlwind of chaos, a blend of intense emotion and self-reproach. The primal urge to claim her as mine consumed me. But a creeping doubt gnawed at the edges of my consciousness. Why was I feeling this way? I had to make things right.

As the car sped through the night, the grandeur of my palace loomed ahead, its seclusion offering the perfect setting for the turbulence within me. My mind raced with confusion and anger. I had already informed my parents of our departure, who had assumed we needed privacy as newlyweds.

I took Mayura inside, my actions driven by an uncontrollable force. Her fear was palpable as I opened the door to my room and tossed her onto the bed. Her eyes widened in terror, and her pleas for mercy were drowned by my overpowering desire. I was losing control, becoming something I had never intended to be.

In the midst of my frenzy, I noticed her tears, a sobering reminder of the line I was about to cross. The realization struck me with a crushing force. I was on the verge of betraying everything I had ever stood for. This was not me. I had promised to protect her, not to inflict harm.

Shame and guilt surged through me as I stumbled towards the washroom. I turned on the shower, the cold water cascading over me, attempting to wash away the tumult of my emotions. I stood there, drenched and shivering, trying to regain clarity. How could I let it go this far?

As the water continued to pour over me, a sudden realization struck. The drink I had consumed earlier at the reception had tasted unusual. I had been so consumed with Mayura that I hadn’t questioned it. Now, it makes sense. The strange, overpowering emotions, the loss of control—it was all because of the drug. Xevys. The very name sent a jolt of fury through me. Someone had deliberately spiked my drink, manipulating my actions and threatening Mayura’s safety.

Determination replaced the despair in my chest. I needed to find out who had orchestrated this, to make them pay for their treachery. And more importantly, I had to reassure Mayura that I was still the man she believed in, despite the chaos that had unfolded.

Emerging from the washroom, my emotions were a tangled mess of guilt, shame, and resolve. I had to make things right. As I approached Mayura, her fear and confusion were evident. She flinched away from me, her reaction a painful reminder of my own lapse in control.

“Mayura, please listen,” I said softly, striving for a calm and gentle tone. “Someone spiked my drink. That’s why I acted...why I was out of control. I’m so sorry. I never intended to hurt you.”

She remained silent, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and uncertainty. I knew I had to prove myself to her, to show her that the man she had married was still here. But how could I bridge the chasm of mistrust that had formed between us?

I approached her cautiously, trying to convey my sincerity through my actions. But every movement was met with hesitation and fear from Mayura. It was clear that earning her trust would be a long and arduous journey.

As I held her gaze, my heart ached with a mix of desperation and resolve. I would do whatever it takes to prove myself to her.