Page 23 of Married in Vengeance

“Once we have the drawings nailed down, let’s double the teams on the ground so we move faster. I want a complete schedule with dates of deliverables on my desk by EOD tomorrow. Prasad Garu, we’ll review it together at that point.”

He nodded. The meeting ended on that note and everyone started to disperse, leaving Aadhya alone with her thoughts.

She should file for a divorce, she thought idly, twirling a pen between her fingers. She should, and still, pain twisted through her at the thought of it. She wanted to be married to Ram, but not this Ram. She wanted to be married to the man who’d laughed with her, slept with her, and made her scream his name in mindless pleasure. She wanted the man she’d fallen in love with over countless stolen nights and endless whispered secrets.

But, that wasn’t what she’d gotten. Or rather, that wasn’t whom she’d gotten.

Her pen stopped mid twirl as her phone rang. She glanced down at the name flashing on it with a sigh. She didn’t have the energy to pretend to be the peppy new bride everyone expected her to be, but she couldn’t hide from the world either.

“Gayu,” she answered the call.

Gayatri Bakshi, Aadhya’s best friend from the day they’d sat next to each other in kindergarten class was the founder of one of the most popular schools in the city today, but you’d never know that from the first question out of her mouth.

“So was the wedding night as incredible as I imagined it to be?”

Aadhya rolled her eyes. “Spent a lot of time imagining my wedding night, have you? That husband of yours is not getting it done right?”

“That husband of mine is not getting it done at all, forget about right,” Gayatri groused. “He’s off on another business trip.”

“Don’t you have a school to run?”

“And you have buildings to build,” Gayatri countered. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t have time for girl talk. Spill!”

“There’s nothing to spill,” Aadhya prevaricated, collecting her notepad and pen and walking out of the conference room towards her cabin.

“Uh huh.” Gayatri was like a bloodhound who’d got a first whiff of the scent it was tracking.

“And that’s why you’re back in office, working, instead of doing body shots off of each other in Hawaii?”

“That’s oddly specific.” Aadhya paused, outside her cabin. Phone signal inside was rubbish and the call would drop the minute she went in.

“It’s what I wanted to do on my honeymoon,” Gayatri groused.

“And what did you do instead?” Aadhya teased, leaning against the door to her cabin.

“Like you don’t fucking know. He took me on a pilgrimage of all the major temples in South India.”

Aadhya’s laughter spilled out of her, her heart lightening despite the strain the last few days had dumped on her.

“Stop laughing at my woes and tell me yours,” Gayatri demanded. “Tell me what’s going on and don’t fob me off with nonsense.”

A germ of an idea took root in Aadhya’s brain. If she couldn’t figure out what had started the fire, there was only one thing left to do.

Fight fire with fire.

And when Aadhya set fire to something, the results were usually incendiary.

“You know,” she said now. “We should catch up.”

“Finally,” Gayatri replied, sounding pleased. “When and where.”

“Tonight. My house. Bring the gang.”

“Your house? As in, Gadde Mansion?”

Everyone who lived in Hyderabad knew Gadde Mansion. It was a massive 70,000 square foot monstrosity in the middle of Jubilee Hills, the neighbourhood of the elite of Hyderabad.

“Of course,” she said. “That’s my house only, no?”

---