Married in Vengeance (Dynasty Rebels #4)

Chapter 19

Nineteen

RAM

Breakfast the next morning was a quiet affair. His father spent most of it buried behind his newspaper, occasionally muttering to himself. His mother nibbled at her bowl of fruit, not bothering to look up from her phone.

Ram’s gaze snagged on Aadhya who ate her boiled eggs and toast with single minded focus, like she needed to swallow it all in seconds and bolt from the horror that was a Gadde family meal.

Would it kill anyone in this family to eat a masala dosa? Or some puri aloo? Or an aloo paratha? He stared down at his cereal, his stomach revolting at the thought of another bland, tasteless, healthy meal.

“Excuse me.” Aadhya dabbed at her mouth with her napkin and pushed back from the table. “I have to get to work. I have early meetings. Bye Athama, bye Mamagaru.”

She ducked beneath the marble dining table and quickly touched their feet before dashing for the door. A second later, she was gone. She either hadn’t noticed she hadn’t said bye to him or she didn’t care to.

Did he care? Interestingly, he didn’t know the answer. He knew he shouldn’t but there was a small portion of his heart that still chafed at being shut out by her.

“Amma,” he said, dragging his eyes from the door as it shut behind Aadhya.

“Hmm?” His mother tapped on something on her phone.

“You can’t talk to Aadhya the way you did last night.”

The newspaper to his right stopped rustling even as his mother slowly put her phone down and met his gaze.

“Excuse me?” she asked, frost coating her words. It was the most emotion he’d seen her show in years.

Ram swallowed, knowing this was going to be unpleasant but not willing to back down. “You can’t make remarks about her complexion.”

“Everything I said was a fact.”

“How would you like it if someone said something like that to Raashi or Veda?”

His mother looked mildly bewildered. “They’re not dark.”

“Amma.” Ram’s patience was fraying. “You know what I’m trying to tell you. Don’t act like you don’t.”

To his right, the newspaper slowly lowered. “Don’t talk to your mother like that.”

“Then tell her not to talk to my wife like that,” Ram returned coolly. “I won’t stand for it.”

His father’s eyebrows shot up. “It’s like that, is it?” he asked, wry derision in his voice.

“It’s always been like that Nanna.” Ram exhaled. “I won’t have anybody making Aadhya feel small. Anybody.”

His father leaned back in his chair, one arm slung over the back, amusement lightening the normally stern lines of his face. “Does that include yourself? Or have you forgotten your behaviour during the wedding?”

Ram flushed. His father had a point. “I’ll do better,” he told his father. He didn’t need to behave badly to get the vengeance he craved. “But so will all of you.”

He pushed back from the table, picking up his laptop bag as he stood. “I have to get to work too. I’ll see you all in the evening.”

“Ram.” His mother’s quiet voice had him freezing. “I didn’t mean to make her feel small. I’ll talk to Aadhya and explain.”

Gratitude flooded him. “Thank you Amma. I appreciate it.”

He made to turn from the table before stopping himself. “Amma?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Now what?”

“Can we have dosa for breakfast tomorrow?”

A small smile touched her lips as she looked at him. “You can. I’ll have it made.”

“I also want!” His father harrumphed, disappearing behind his newspaper again. “Why should only he get?”

“He is fit,” his mother returned. “You are not.”

Ram was still laughing to himself as he touched his parents’ feet quickly before heading out for the door. He opened the door to find Virat standing on the steps, one hand raised to knock. Ram’s laughter died a swift death. He studied his friend’s calm expression and his stomach sank.

“How bad?”

“It’s debatable,” Virat said, his voice quiet and steady as always. “We’ll talk on the way to work?”

Ram nodded. The driver drove up with his car but he dismissed him, taking the wheel himself. He didn’t need any eavesdroppers to the conversation they were going to be having.

They’d barely cleared the driveway that led to Gadde Mansion before Ram said, “Tell me.”

Virat took a moment, clearly working his way through a minefield to find the best way to tell him.

“There was a second email.”

The words had Ram’s heart tightening painfully in his chest. “From Aadhya?”

“From the same burner account as before. So, yes.”

Ram focused on the crowded road, navigating through the manic office traffic. “Another video?”

“The same one. But this time with an added note.”

Ram frowned. “Note? What does it say?”

Virat cleared his throat. “It’s a bit vulgar.” He held a paper out to him. “Maybe you should read it.”

Ram cursed under his breath, looking for a break in traffic to pull over to the side. He finally pulled into a mall and drove into the basement parking. Yanking on the parking brake the minute the car came to a halt, he held his hand out for the stupid paper fluttering in Virat’s hand.

Is the fucking you’re getting worth the fucking you’re about to get? If you don’t keep your wife busy enough, she might need to go elsewhere for satisfaction.

His blood roared, fury and hurt blazing a murderous path through his veins.

“What the fuck is her endgame?” he roared, punching the steering wheel.

Virat sighed. “I think the better question to ask is, what is yours?”

Ram turned on him. “She’s fucking with me and you think I’m at fault somehow?”

“I’m not saying that.” Virat put his hands up in the air, palms out.

“Then what are you saying?” Ram’s hands fisted on the steering wheel as he fought for his legendary control.

“Aadhya may have sent these emails, but you took it one step further,” Virat pointed out. “You married her. Why?”

“Why?” Ram muttered. “Why?”

“Yes, Ram. Why? Why the fuck did you marry the woman you know was trying to blackmail you? We don’t even know what she wants.”

“Because now that she’s married to me, if I go down, if she takes me down, then she goes down with me.”

Virat stared at him. “Seriously? That’s the most fucked up logic I’ve heard.”

Ram stared grimly through the windshield at the rows and rows of parked cars. “It’s the only logic that works.”

“Is it?” Virat asked. “Or did you just want to marry her so badly that you used any excuse, even one as despicable as this, to do so?”

Ram threw the car into gear and reversed in a squeal of his tires.

“Not going to answer me, huh?” Virat smirked.

“You’re a dick.”

Virat chuckled. “Still not an answer, my friend.”