Page 47 of Forged By Fate

“It’s a gala that was traditionally used to store bed linen,” said Sunaina. “I thought we could repurpose it as a coffee table. It will add character to this room.”

“It will only add bedbugs and fleas to the room. Viren, do something,” shrieked Tahira, stomping her feet.

I ignored her and moved to the next piece.

“What’s this one? Is it a bench?”

“That is a ninety-year-old jhoola made from pure Burma teak. I think they sourced it from an old haveli in Rajkot,” said Sunaina proudly.

“I love this tile work,” I murmured.

“Are you serious, Viren?” asked Tahira in disbelief.

“Dead serious,” I replied, getting to my feet. “This furniture is gorgeous. All of it!”

Sunaina shot me a surprised glance before she turned to Tahira.

“I guess I understand my husband’s taste better than you do,” she said sweetly. “And one more thing, if you ever dare totry and put me down again, I’ll kick you out of my house so fast you’ll have gravel burn on your skinny little ass.”

“Your house?” spat Tahira. “You’re nothing more than a paid servant in this house, Sunaina. Everyone knows your marriage is fake. You can try and fool the social worker by moving into Viren’s room, but you don’t fool me.”

“Enough,” I yelled, scaring her into silence. “I’ve put up with your crap because you’re Chachi’s niece. But you don’t get to interfere in our personal lives, Tahira. Consider this your last warning. If you ever speak to my wife like that again, I’ll cut you out of our lives and out of the company. Is that clear?”

She gulped in fear at the threat and nodded, even as her eyes shot sparks of hate at us.

“Also, since you seem to think our marriage is fake, would you like to count the hickeys on my body?” asked Sunaina with a sweet smile.

Sufi choked with laughter in the corner as I shook my head ruefully. My wifey was really on the warpath today. I waited till Tahira slunk out of the room before I turned to Sunaina.

“Was that last bit really necessary?” I murmured.

She rolled her eyes before she looked around the room.

“I…I got a little carried away, sorry,” she said stiffly. “I was just so angry at those three biddies that I wasn’t thinking clearly. I’ll tell the movers to bring your old furniture back.”

“Why?” I asked in confusion. “This stuff is so much better than what we had before.”

She turned to me in surprise.

“Are you sure? Itisfrom Chor Bazaar. I wasn’t lying about that.”

“Does that matter?”

“You tell me. From what I hear, Chor Bazaar is too downmarket for the Chaudhrys.”

I rolled my eyes because there was only one woman who would spout that kind of tripe - my Chachi.

“You’ve been listening to the wrong Chaudhry,” I said dryly.

“And Tahira said…”

“Let me stop you right there! Is Tahira a Chaudhry?” I asked her, with my index finger held up in a stop sign.

Sunaina shrugged in response.

“She wants to be one, that’s for sure.”

“Well, she can want it all she likes. It’s not happening in this or any other lifetime. And since she isn’t a Chaudhry, she doesn’t get a say in the furniture at Chaudhry House.”

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