Married in Vengeance (Dynasty Rebels #4)

Chapter 35

Thirty-Five

RAM

The lights on the set of the news show were making him nauseous. He blinked, leaning back in his seat. Aadhya sat beside him, a silent statue.

“Are you okay?” he asked her.

She shook her head, a rebellious curl springing out of her French braid and falling on her cheek. Her hands were clenched in the folds of her red and black Anarkali kurta, the voluminous materials hiding them from everyone else’s gaze.

“I don’t want to be here,” she admitted, sweat beading her brow. Before he could reply, a make-up artist appeared and dabbed it away, using a compact to take the sheen off her face.

“I’m fine,” she told the guy, batting his hands and the brushes they wielded away. “Leave me alone.”

Ram pushed to his feet. “Let’s go.”

“What?” Aadhya stared up at him, wide eyed.

“If you don’t want to do this, we won’t.” He held out a hand to help her to her feet. Aadhya stared at it but didn’t reach for it.

“Just like that?”

Ram nodded. “Just like that.”

She continued to stare at his outstretched hand as people milled around them, getting ready for the interview that was going to implode their lives while supposedly saving it.

“You said this was our best way forward.” She raised her gaze from his hand to his face.

Ram’s jaw clenched, his mind working to find a better option. When he couldn’t, he sighed. “I still believe it is.”

“But if I don’t want to do it, we won’t.” She stared at him, her eyes boring into his.

“We won’t do anything you don’t want to,” he told her, holding her gaze. “I will never stand by and let you be pressured into anything that doesn’t work for you. If there is nothing else you believe about me, believe that.”

A smile, one he’d never expected to see aimed in his direction again, spread across her anxious face.

“Sit down, Husband. We have an interview to ace.”

He sat down. This time she took his hand, her fingers twining through his and he found himself smiling too.

“Let’s do this then, Wife.”

On cue, the interviewer appeared, introducing himself and settling into the seat across from them. The teleprompter across from them lit up and Ram found himself tensing. Years of staying out of the limelight and still, this was what his life had come to.

Across the room, the door opened and Virat slipped in, nodding to Ram before leaning against a far wall, arms folded across his chest. Ram tensed, trying to read Virat’s expression but as always, the other man gave nothing away.

And then it was time. As they called for quiet on set and opening credits rolled, he forced everything else from his mind and focused on what they had to do.

The initial portion of the interview went seamlessly, every question fielded and answered with wit and ease. It felt like they were professionals who did this every day. He hoped they never had to do it again.

“So, Mr. Gadde.”

He focused on the man who was smiling at him like a piranha sighting his first meal of the day. “We all know you’re an ambitious man. You had a seat on the Supreme Court bench in your sights.”

Ram held his gaze, his own level and cool. “I don’t hear a question.”

The other man’s smile faltered. “Yes, of course. My question is, don’t you think this stain on your reputation is going to wreck your chances?”

“My reputation?” Ram arched a brow. “I love my wife . Any interaction I have with her, is one I cherish and am proud of.” He looked directly at the cameras as he added, “Anyone who thinks that our love for each other is a stain needs their brains checked. And if it’s a stain, it’s one I wear proudly.”

“Mrs. Gadde.” The man decided to abandon his attempt to rattle Ram. “How does the leak of this sex tape make you feel?”

“Violated,” she said crisply. “How would something like this have made you feel?”

The man gave her a tight smile. “Violated of course. We would all feel the same.”

“And yet,” Aadhya returned coolly. “You still plan to air it knowing the impact it will have on our lives. This is our personal lives, our families’ reputation and our futures at stake. And yet, you’ll happily violate us for your TRP’s. So, no Sir. We don’t all feel the same. I would never do to you what you’re doing to us.”

Ram stifled a grin as the interviewer gaped at her, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Behind the camera, Virat smiled, a small lifting of his lips.

“Tell us something about your court case, Mrs. Gadde,” the asshole went for her jugular. “We believe it’s not just your company but you, personally, who has been named.”

“That’s right,” she said calmly, even though her face paled.

“The case is sub judice and cannot be discussed outside a court of law,” Ram interjected smoothly. “Shall we stick to the matter at hand?”

“Yes, of course. I-“

“The matter being,” Ram spoke over the other man, staring right at the cameras. “That whoever is behind this hachette job on our family and its reputations will not win. We will find you. And when we do, we will come for you.” He smiled, letting the world see his intent. “Take a good look at my face. It’s the last thing you’ll see before the prison doors shut on you.”

Silence fell on the set until someone started to applaud. The interviewer decided to end on that note knowing nothing good would follow with any of his questions and, to Ram’s eternal relief, the cameras finally stopped rolling.

“I’ll be right back,” he told Aadhya. Ram ripped off the mic and stood, striding across the set and towards Virat. He shouldered his way through the milling crowd.

“Tell me you have good news,” he said as soon as he reached the other man.

Virat nodded. “I do.”

“You traced the bastard who was sending the emails?”

Virat nodded again. “We got him.”

Ram closed his eyes, relief seeping through him. “Finally,” he whispered.

“It was never her.”

“I know.” Ram thrust his hands through his hair, tugging hard. “I knew. I think I always knew.”

Virat smiled. “Yeah. And now you have proof.”

“I’m going to kill the bastard.”

Virat nodded calmly. “I’ll help you bury the body.”

“What emails?” Aadhya’s voice so close behind him had him freezing. Wide eyed, he stared at Virat but the other man shut his eyes, for the first time in the history of their acquaintance, his cheeks flushing with shame.

“What emails?” Aadhya asked again, coming to stand between them, her head swinging between the two of them. Neither of them said a word.

“Is no one going to answer me?” she asked, her smile fading as the tension around their little group registered.

“Is this something about my work emails? The documents that have been deleted?” When he didn’t say anything, she prodded. “Virat?”

“Aadhya,” he began and stopped, for the first time ever, lost for words.

“Tell her,” Ram said roughly.

“Yes, tell me,” Aadhya repeated slowly. “Now that you seem to have his permission.”

“This video,” Virat said, pointing towards the cameras and the interview set. “Was first sent to Ram via email. It appeared to be sent from your official email address.”

Ram watched her cock her head, thinking that through, her intelligence sieving through the statement and finding the only feasible answers.

“When?” she asked finally.

When he didn’t immediately reply, she turned to face Ram. “When did you get this email, Ram?”

“Sept 16 th .”

The day before his father had brought the marriage proposal to her own. He saw her brain compute the math, her face leaching of all colour.

“Why did you marry me?”

He closed his eyes.

“Oh no,” she said softly. “You don’t get to do that. You’ll bloody well look at me.” Stepping forward, she grabbed his coat lapels and pulled hard. “Why. Did. You. Marry. Me?”

Ram opened his eyes and met hers.

“I married you to punish you.”