Page 2 of Married in Vengeance

On the little screen, the woman tossed her wild curls, Ram reaching to push them over one shoulder so he could nibble on her bare skin.

“Ram, you there?” Virat’s voice came through the speaker, tinny and distant.

Ram cleared his throat before speaking and still his voice was hoarse. “Yeah, I’m here.”

A surge of fury burned through him as he stared at the video still playing.

“Where did you get this?” he demanded.

“It was sent to your official email. My team intercepted it.”

All of them had handed over cyber security over their digital footprint to Virat. They trusted him implicitly and the world they lived in didn’t allow for them to live without an additional level of security, both online and offline.

With his eyes set on a Supreme Court judgeship, Ram knew better than anyone how important a spotless reputation was to him. And so, like everyone else in his circle, he’d trusted Virat to keep it that way. He’d hired Virat for moments exactly like this.

This had been sent to his official email? This was meant for blackmail then? The fury took on a decidedly violent edge as he contemplated the thought. If the person had thought to only target him, it would have been okay. But there was another person in that video with him.

His gaze went to her again. Aadhya Reddy, real estate heiress, ace architect, and part time witch who haunted his dreams. If this got out, it would destroy her reputation. Her conservative parents would kill her.

She was the oil to his water, the wild child to his old soul.

There was no universe in which the two of them were meant to be together.

They were not for each other and yet, they kept ending up in each other’s arms. On the screen, Aadhya moaned as he took one dusky nipple in his mouth.

“Kill it.”

“I have.” Virat didn’t sound like he appreciated the redundant instruction. “And wiped all traces. This copy will disappear too after this conversation.”

“Who sent it?” Ram looked out on to the crowded road. Someone honked loudly and incessantly to the right. A beggar caught his eye and hobbled over, rapping on the window and holding a crippled hand out. Ram brought the glass down and dropped a hundred rupee note into the beggar’s hand before rolling it up again.

“Virat?” he said, when the other man stayed silent. “Who is it?”

“We traced it to an anonymous IP address.”

Of course. Ram would have expected nothing less. He also knew that nothing as simple as that deterred Virat.

“Who is it?” he asked again. “Anant?”

“No, not him.” Virat sighed. “Listen man. I need you to not go off halfcocked at this.”

“Virat.” Ram’s voice flatlined, anger thrumming through it. “Don’t patronise me.”

“I’m not.” Virat didn’t sound the least bit fazed by the temper tornado rising on the other end of the line. “I’m telling you that you need to listen to me without losing it.”

“Tell me who the fuck it is!” Ram roared, a million thoughts running through his mind, a million voices yelling in his ears, the world screaming at him, judging him and finding him wanting, as always.

“Aadhya.” Virat’s voice sounded defeated. “We traced it back to Aadhya.”

And the world around Ram went silent.

One

RAM

He staredat himself in the mirror. He didn’t look any different. His hair had been gelled into submission, the simple pancha he was wearing gleamed in the overhead light, his square rimmed black glasses framed his blank, cold eyes.

It was his wedding day.His wedding day.He waited for an emotion, any emotion to course through him. But all he could feel, the taste of the emotion cold steel on his tongue, was vengeance.

---