Married in Vengeance (Dynasty Rebels #4)

Chapter 3

Three

RAM

It was unseasonably hot today. Sweat trickled down his face and neck and ran in little rivulets down his body. Whose bright idea had it been to have an open air wedding? The huge pedestal fans that were spitting water and air at them were completely ineffective and now, Ram was drowning.

In his sweat, in his anger, in his shame.

Was he really going to do this? Marry Aadhya for Vengeance? He’d spent his life on the straight and narrow, fighting for justice, standing for the underdog… And one woman’s betrayal had brought him to this? Was this whom he was going to be? Whom he wanted to be? Was this whom he was going to allow her to turn him into.

He laughed under his breath, a humourless sound. He’d been turned into this person from the moment he’d first kissed her. One taste of that witch and he’d lost his mind. They’d, of course, known each other for years. Hyderabad’s social circles were small and when it came to the movers and shakers, even smaller. But they’d met and interacted closely, for the very first time, at Priyanka and Aarush’s wedding.

He still remembered her wicked grin, and the toss of those glorious curls as she teased him about being too uptight. They’d kissed for the first time at Veda and Agastya’s wedding reception. His slow descent into this madness that consumed him had begun then. He’d spiraled further with each consecutive meeting, with each stolen kiss, each fervent caress, and finally with each time he held her in his arms, losing his mind in the pleasure he found with her.

He'd fought it. He’d fought his attraction to her, every step of the way. And he’d lost every single battle. She was everything he should never have wanted. Everything he’d told himself he couldn’t have.

He needed someone calm, composed, a partner with an unimpeachable reputation to stand by him when he sat on the bench of the Supreme Court. Aadhya was a wild cannon. She rampaged through her life like an out-of-control comet, blazing bright and with little regard for the consequences of the fires she started with barely a thought.

If there was one thing Ram was, it was always in control. Until her.

Every time he met her, he fell a bit more. Until one day, he’d fallen all the way. He’d been waiting to finish with the case on Anant and then he’d planned to ask her out. He’d wanted to see if they could make it work.

But she’d decided to force his hand before that, with that damned email. He took a deep breath. It shuddered out of him in a rough exhale. Well, she’d forced it alright. Instead of asking her out to dinner, he was marrying her today.

The fledgling feelings he had inside him had shriveled and died in the car that day when he’d viewed the video of them together and listened to Virat tell him she’d sent it. Anonymously, but still her.

Why did she do it? To strongarm him into marriage? Sadly, he’d already been halfway there. He should have trusted his instincts. He’d known she wasn’t for him, but he’d fallen for her anyway.

Being with Aadhya was like trying to dance in a storm, tasting the electricity in the air, and living for the thrill of not knowing when or where it would hit next. Well, lightning had struck, he thought grimly, right through his life.

“Hey.”

Someone plonked themselves into the chair beside him. Ram didn’t bother to look. He’d know that gravelly voice anywhere.

“Not exactly where I saw this going when I gave you the information,” Virat mused, stretching his arms over his head.

“Fuck off!” Ram muttered.

“Dude, there’s a pujari right there.” Virat pointed to the elaborately decorated mandap in front of them. “Mind your language,” he added mildly.

Ram glared at him. If he punched him right in the jaw, would it ruin that face that women kept drooling over?

“Don’t bother,” Virat grinned. “Assault is not a good look on your wedding day. And plus, you like me man.”

He did, Ram reminded himself. It wasn’t Virat’s fault that Ram’s bride was a traitorous little vixen. But it was Ram’s fault that he still craved her like an addict needing his next fix.

“Why are you doing this Ram?” Virat asked, his voice low and meant only for Ram’s ears.

Ram looked at him, his conflicted gaze meeting the other man’s level ones. “I need to.”

“Why? This isn’t necessary. We could have fixed it.”

“How?”

Aadhya was a loose cannon. She did what she wanted, when she wanted. If he’d confronted her, he had no idea what she’d have done. And Ram couldn’t afford that. He’d worked too hard and for too long to allow her to ruin it all. But most importantly, he had Anant Madhavan’s sexual abuse and grooming case hanging in the balance. His family’s reputation, his and his sister’s, especially, needed to stay spotless. He couldn’t have a sex video wrecking his shot at finally giving his sister the justice she deserved. By tying Aadhya to him, he tied her fate to his. He knew she was intelligent enough to make sure her future stayed bright, never dimming.

“There’s always a way,” Virat murmured, compassion lightening his gaze as he took in the expression on Ram’s face.

The wedding drums picked up their tempo. A minor commotion began to one side of the stage and his bride appeared. His breath caught in his chest. She looked devastatingly beautiful and his stupid heart picked up pace, matching the drums.

Why? Why her? His stupid heart could have picked anybody else in this universe and it would have been a better choice. Better than the wild child of Hyderabad’s upper echelons. Anyone but her. And yet, he wanted only her.

“This is the way,” he told Virat before slowly getting to his feet.

He adjusted his angavasthram on his shoulder and made his way to the mandap, taking his place on the other side of the white sheet they held in front of Aadhya.

This was the way, the only way.