23

-• fooled again •-

Taranya

I wake up the next day at sharp six. It's time to hit the gym. If I was back home, I'd have slept in some more, given how extremely tired I was last night. But surprisingly enough, I didn't need an alarm clock to wake up. This room is cold. It could be because of the AC. But that doesn't explain why it feels cold from the inside more than the outside. Like when you stumble into an abandoned building, stripped off of its windows and doors, colourless, and threatening. That's the kind of vibe his room gives. It's beautiful. It's marvelous, but it's only easy on the eyes. You can look at it from afar and be impressed, but the moment you walk in, you'd be strangely uncomfortable.

I take a deep breath, my hand reaching for the bedside lamp to turn it on. Dim orange light fills the right side of the room. The side of his bed is empty. When I look around, he's at his desk, focused on his computer, his reading glasses on. Or is it Yara?

I push myself in the seating position. The rustling of the sheets catches his attention. He looks over, slightly distracted, then his gaze settles on me, making me the sole receiver of his attention. I swallow. The dexterous, long fingers reach out to remove the delicate pair of glasses and he puts them on the desk before getting off the chair to approach me. I pull my knees closer, fisting my hands in the cushion between my legs and chest, looking away when he sits before me.

"Good morning, Esther. Did you get a good night's sleep?" He asks, his voice huskier than usual, rather scratchy, deep and provoking.

I inhale deeply. "Is there a gym in this palace?"

"We do. But since it wasn't in use for over seven years, it's not accessible anymore." He answers. "But you can use the hotel's gym. I usually go there to let some steam off."

I nod and shift to descend the bed. He grabs my hand before I can walk away. My gaze drifts over my shoulder to meet his eyes. "You didn't answer my question."

I frown. Releasing my hand from his grip, I walk off towards the closet. Grabbing a pair of fitted of leggings and a sports bra from my duffel bag, I take them inside the bathroom and finish off my morning business before putting them on. When I step out, he's back to his desk. But he stops working to watch me put on the socks and shoes. I avoid looking at him the whole time.

"I suggest you wear a jacket on top of it."

I give him a look of deadpan.

"No, I'm not controlling what you wear. Given the history of my family when it comes to women, I just think it's good for you to wear a jacket until you reach the gym."

I relax. "My jackets are in the blue suitcase. It has a lot of stuff in it. I'm afraid it'll be a mess if I try to get the jacket out." I explain.

"Give me a minute," with that, he gets off the chair and walks inside the closet. He doesn't need a minute to return. In his hand, there's a black Nike jacket, unzipped and waiting for me to wear. I put it on. It's oversized, obviously. But it's warm, comfortable and it smells like him. "How is it? Comfortable?"

Stuffing my hands in the pockets, I nod in response. "Is the hotel connected to-"

"Don't worry about it. I'll inform Amir to help you reach there."

"Alright, thanks." Picking up my gym bag, I open the door and step out. The familiar coldness creeps in, this time stronger. I navigate my way downstairs, spotting Amir in the living waiting for me. "Good morning, Amir."

He nods, doesn't respond in words, and takes the lead. I squint my eyes. Does he not like me? I don't remember doing anything to slight him. And if he's offended on behalf of his boss, that's low.

We reach the hotel gym. It's packed. I look at him incredulously. Before I can get a word out of my mouth, he walks inside, compelling me to follow him and we end up in a secluded part of the gym. It has all the equipment necessary for a standard work out session. And it's empty.

Amir stands in the space that divides this side from the rest of the gym. I shrug and drop my bag near the bench, sitting down to redo the strings of my sport shoes. Throwing my hair into a high pony, I take out my boxing gloves and put them on, strapping and unstrapping them to get a perfect grip.

The punching bag looks new, but untouched. As if it's left unused for a long time. When I swing a punch on it, the resistance is good, but it's packed too hard on the bottom and slightly spongy in the middle, meaning it has sunk.

I look around for a trainer. I didn't need to wait for long. He comes over to attend me in less than a minute. "Hi, Mrs. Rajawat, is there any problem?"

The way he addresses me is slightly off putting but I don't linger on the thought needlessly. "I need this sandbag replaced. Do you have a new one?"

He looks behind my shoulder, and frowns, probably wondering what's wrong with it since it doesn't look worn down or has any visible tear. "The stuffing has sunk to the bottom. Someone needs to open it and redo the stuffing. I don't have time to wait. So, if you can get me another -"

"We only have one."

My gaze darts behind him towards the standing sandbag. No one's using it. He realises and clears his throat. "Actually, our regular member uses it often. She's running late today -"

"How much late?"

"Uhm," he hesitates, glances at his watch, and sighs, "by an hour."

"And how long does her gym session lasts?"

"For an hour."

I nod.

He's quick to act. "I'll get someone to bring it here."

"Thanks." I move back and sit down on the bench.

A subordinate of his brings the sandbag and postions it next to the hanging one. I throw a punch at it to check if it's fitting. It's perfect. "Yup, great. Thank you." I smile gratefully at the man.

"You're welcome, Ma'am. Please let us know if you need anymore assistance." He turns to leave, and I prepare myself through a warm-up.

Fifteen minutes in, I feel a figure looming at my side. Niharika stands there, with her arms crossed, certainly not happy to see me here. I stop, remove a glove and take out my airpods. "May I help you with something?" Better to be formal than strike a casual conversation. We've met once. But that doesn't mean we know each other. We're still strangers.

"That's mine." She states.

I frown.

"The sandbag." She points.

"Oh," I mutter, now awkward. "Sorry, the old one needed restuffing and nobody was using this one. You can take it back." I offer.

"Thanks," she looks at the man who had first dragged the heavy sandbag here and I feel bad for him as he quickly hops on to reverse all his hardwork. She turns around and saunters off to the opposite end of the gym.

Since it's embarrassing to be standing in the gym doing nothing, I grab my bag from the floor and swing it over my shoulder, heading towards the door. On the way, Niharika's eyes meet mine and I swear to God, I see a glimpse of smirk on her face before she looks away. As I turn my head ahead, I face plant into a hard chest.

"Fuck, sorry," familiar light brown eyes meet mine. I crush the urge to reach out and remove the contact lens so he can look at me with those dark eyes that had me obsessed with him when I was a teen. "It's you."

"You're already leaving?"

I shrug. "I usually train for an hour or two in the morning in the ring with Agastya or using a dummy model. There are only two sandbags here. One needs restuffing. And the second is occupied." I glance towards his ex-fiance. She looks distracted. Her posture is wrong. She's too impatient to hit that she fails to create an impact. "I'll try tomorrow when they have a new sandbag." I step on his left to walk out.

"I can help you."

I look at him in surprise.

"And you wouldn't need to come here in a few days. I've asked the royal staff to refurbish the palace gym. So use me until then."

"I hit hard." I warn him.

He smiles lopsided. "As long as it's not my face."

"100 if you let me hit your face." I walk back inside.

He follows, chuckling softly. "A kiss."

"Fuck off." I drop the bag near the bench and sit down to wear the gloves, hiding the blush on my face by keeping my head down. I smack my gloves together.

Having put on the boxing pads, he beckons me with a flick of his arm. I've a faint hint that he's underestimating me. It shows in his loose posture and overconfident eyes. Agastya used to make the same mistake in the beginning. He learned the hard way. Guess who's learning the harder way, Agastya? That's right, the guy you and I hate the most.

"Ready, Mr. Rajawat?"

"For you? Always, Mrs. Rajawat." He smirks.

Jaw clenched, I feign to pack all of my strength in the jab, and throw it, only to pull back a split second later and cross him with a power packed punch straight to his face.

"Fuck!" He growls and ducks, dropping the boxing pads to the ground to cup his face. Amir whirls around. The gym comes to a standstill. I pretend to panic.

"Are you okay? Oh my God!" I lean forward to touch his shoulder but startle when someone else throws my hand off and reaches for him instead.

"Shourya, are you okay?" Niharika asks worriedly. "What is wrong with you?" She glares at me over her shoulder.

I stop myself from snapping back. I don't want anymore attention than I already have. "It was a mistake." It was deliberate. "Are you okay, Shourya?" I ask, my voice a lot softer now.

He stands straight and drops his hands, revealing his bruised cheek. I look away from his accusing stare. Okay, maybe that was too much. He clearly wasn't ready to defend.

"Oh God, it's swelling." Niharika cups his face.

I stiffen.

He doesn't remove it. He doesn't even seem to realise it. His eyes on me. As if he's waiting for me to react, do something. There's people around. I can't make this too weird. We're husband and wife now. I'm sure I've successfully popped up a few questions in the heads of the audience of this unfortunate incident.

I step forward and take his face in my hand. Niharika has no choice but to step away. "Does it hurt?" I ask softly.

He blinks.

"I'm sorry." I force out. "Let's go. I'll do the first aid." Grabbing his hand, I pick up my gym bag and slip past Niharika and Amir. "Sorry to disturb you guys. Lovers quarrel." I jest. The crowd laughs, majority of them go back to their business. Having dispelled the matter, I walk out of the gym, taking him along.

We reach his room and I drop his hand, heading inside the closet to stash away my gym bag. Then I come out and grab the first aid box from the bathroom, putting it next to him on the edge of the bed before turning around to leave. I've things to do. And that starts from unpacking my stuff.

My plans face a set back when he holds my wrist, stopping me in my place. "What?"

"You inflicted the wound, you tend to it."

"You're not a kid, Shourya." I snort, but kneel before him anyway. I caused the pain. So it's my responsibility to make it better. "And I thought you had high pain tolerance?" He winces when I clean the wound using antiseptic.

"I've started to feel a lot more, and a lot deeply ever since I met you."

"Should I be flattered?"

"Are my one liners not working on you?"

"You need to up your game," I say distractedly, gently applying the ointment to the torn skin of his cheekbones.

"Any tips?" He whispers.

My eyes meet his and I gasp softly realising how close we are.

"Should I be more expressive on how much I want you?" He leans even closer. My breath hitches. "What should I do to make you believe that every inch of mine, yearns to belong to every inch of yours." His broad hands gently slip around my waist, locking on the small of my back. I squirm. "Fuck, you're so perfect. You fit," he drags me closer until my chest brushes his. "You know what I feel everytime I look at you?"

Quietly, I ask through my eyes.

"Perhaps, my God did not abandon me. Perhaps, he was busy creating you for me, and the moment he realised I was suffering, he sent you to soothe my pain."

My hands curl over his chest, and I overcome the urge of fisting his shirt to pull him closer by pushing him away. Getting the signal, he lets me go. I step out of his arms, pack up the first aid box and clutch it to my chest. "Put some ice on it if the swelling grows."

I ignore the man for the rest of the day. It's the night of our reception. I'm busy enough to avoid him without making it obvious. The event starts at seven in the evening. Shourya and I are instructed to make our entry together. As if that's something to be emphasized.

Shourya is wearing a black tux. Unsurprisingly, I'm stuck with a saree. The women in his family helped me put it on. I wish I can bring Juyi here with me. But I don't want to pull her in this hell hole. If the women of this household are treated like low lives, I cannot imagine what goes on with the working female staff.

The gold saree I'm wearing is heavily sequined. It's flashy, a little see through, and the material is flowy. And I cannot begin to explain how heavy and uncomfortable the pallu is. The strap of the blouse fails to hold it in place. It constantly slips from my shoulder. After the women exit the bedroom, I fist the front of my blouse and tug it up, causing my bust to swell. But the strap still slips off.

The door opens again. Expecting it to be one of the ladies, I call for the help. "The pallu constantly slips from my shoulder-" he steps into the mirror behind me. I spin around in surprise. The damn pallu falls to the floor. I hear him suck a deep breath. "Wha- What is wrong with you!?" I quickly gather it in my arm and hurriedly cover my chest. "Why are you here?"

He looks me in the eyes. "The guests are waiting."

"So?" I snap. "Let them wait!" I turn around to face the mirror and fix the pallu on my shoulder. "Why are you wearing a tux? Why didn't you wear anything traditional? Why can't I wear a gown!" I grumble.

He watches me struggle. I give up shortly after. My arms ache. Then he takes the charge. "What are you doing?"

"Shh,"

I stand speechless as he unpins the pallu, looks at it with consideration, tugs at the forward end to get a good grip, then slicks it along the curve of my right breast, and picks up a safety pin from the vanity desk. "Pin this,"

"Where?" I whisper.

"There," he points at the centre of the blouse.

I look down and do as he says. Then he takes the leftover end, drapes it gracefully on my shoulder, and uses another safety pin to fix it in place. "There you go. Is it still heavy?"

I move my shoulders a little, the pallu doesn't fall. "No."

He nods. "Shall we?"

I nod.

He sticks out his arm for me, I slip mine into his and we walk out of the room. A spotlight falls on us when we make it to the top of the staircase. People give us a round of applause. Because we got married. Makes no sense.

After we're introduced to the world as husband and wife, the Chairman takes us around, introducing us personally to the guests. There are people from business world, entertainment industry, fashion industry, and healthcare sector. It's like a funfair. But of beautiful faces and their expensive get ups.

"And meet Mr. Vishal-" I tune them out, my eyes locating the six men that walk in, demanding attention from everyone in the hall.

"Excuse me," I say, and don't stop for a response before I'm already walking towards my family. The moment their eyes find me, I'm running into their arms. "You made me wait!" I pull away from Vivaan to glare at all of them.

"Sorry, we got caught up in traffic." He reasons.

"Fine." I relent. "How are you, Bhai? Agastya, all good now?"

He nods stiffly.

"We're fine." Yuvraaj answers. "How are you?"

I shrug, then realise that's not an answer they'd like to hear. "Absolutely splendid!" I beam.

"Where's Janet?" I ask, noticing she's not around.

"I'm here." She raises her hand from behind the men. They step aside so she can be visible. "Hi, you look gorgeous." She comes closer to hug me. She's wearing this beautiful sea green mermaid style gown and minimal jewelleries that makes her delicate features stand out.

"So, do you." We sway sideways.

"There were paparazzi outside, and I got distracted as they kept asking me for photos. I felt like a celebrity." She places a hand on her chest.

"As if you're any less," I shove her playfully on the shoulder.

"Yuvraaj, you're late." The Chairman's voice stiffens all of us. "Why don't you go to your husband, darling?" He places a frail hand on my shoulder. Yuvraaj almost reacts, so I quickly step away. It drops to his side.

"I'll see where he is." I excuse myself and squeeze Janet's hand softly before walking away.

Stopping a waiter, I ask him, "Did you see Shourya?"

"Yeah, the Prince went back upstairs." He answers.

I frown, deciding to check. Now that my brothers are here, I need to keep him close so they don't question the legitimacy of our relationship.

I put my hand on the door knob, about to push it open when, "Is this the contract?" My brows pull together. I push the door open, just the slightest, enough to form a slit that I can see through. Niharika stands in front of someone, my obvious guess is Shourya. "When did you guys sign this?"

"Four months ago. In London." He answers.

Is he talking about our marriage contract?

"Okay, thanks."

I scurry back downstairs to avoid getting caught. She arrives first, he follows a few minutes later. I look away when his eyes search around the hall for me. "Get me a glass of lemonade." I request.

The bartender nods and gets to work.

I feel a familiar presence behind me. "I was looking for you."

Yeah, sure.

"Taranya?"

Is he fooling me again? This time with her as a team? Are they fooling me together?

"Thank you," I pick up the glass of lemonade and take a sip.

Why does she know about the contract when he warned me nobody should know about it. Not even my brothers. Why did he tell her?

Wait.

Isn't she a lawyer? Was this all her plan? Is he trying to use me again? Like he did all those years ago? Is he trying to target my family?

Fuck.

I'm going crazy.

"Tara-" I throw off the hand he places on my shoulder.

"Don't touch me." My voice comes out harsh and gritty.

He looks confused. "What's wrong?"

"Just stay away from me." I grab my glass and walk away from there. Out of sight. Out of mind. I need to breath in peace for at least a moment.

"Uhm, excuse me, Miss," I stop abruptly. A middle aged man steps in front of me. "Hello, darling." I frown. "You don't know me. I'm Arvind Chandra."

It takes me three long seconds to recognise him. "Oh, Miss. Chandra's father?" He nods with a smile. "Good to meet you, sir." I hold out a hand out of politeness.

"Same here." He shakes my hand firmly. "I wanted to congratulate. I couldn't attend your wedding, I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Your daughter did." I reply.

"Actually, I was really angry at Shourya and you. I thought he was the one to break his engagement with Niharika. And that he did it for you. But then she told me the truth. And I was embarrassed. I didn't attend the wedding out of pettiness. I'm really sorry."

"No, please. Don't say that. I understand. A father's heart will always look out for it's child first."

He smiles appreciatively. "That's true."

"Mr. Chandra!" A man approaches us out of the blue.

The man in front of me grows rigid. "Uhm, Mr. Jaiswal, I'm talking to this beautiful young woman, just give me a minute." He requests.

"Sure, I'll be waiting." Patting his shoulder, the man walks away.

"These politicians. I hate them." His tone disgruntled.

I look at him perplexed. "You hate politicians?"

"Yes. So entitled and for what? The whole system is corrupted. I tell you, the future of this country lies in you young people's hands, not these prideful old men that think they know how to run a country." He shakes his head in disappointment.

"Wait," I chuckle. "Isn't your father running for politics?" His eyes snap to mine. "Sorry, I know it's a classified information but-"

He laughs.

I smile awkwardly.

"Where did you hear such bullshit from?"

"What do you mean?"

He chuckles. "Young lady, I know you're a reporter in the making, but what kind of sources do you trust?"

I frown. "So, your father-"

"My father is bedridden for almost five years. Forget about standing up for elections, he can't even stand up to use a loo." He smiles in amusement.

"Mr. Chandra!" The same man calls for his attention again.

He sighs in defeat. "I've to go now. I'll talk to you later. And in future if you hear any ridiculous rumours based on my family, please come to me to cross check." With that, he walks away.

I inhale a deep breath, looking around haphazardly and finding him talking to Arush. Something that my brother says brings a mirthful smile on Shourya's lips.

Humiliated, I stand there, as a victim of his another trickery. Fooled again.

Tsk tsk tsk

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