The Indian Tycoon's Marriage Deal (3 page)

Could he salvage his plan? Maya was his only hope. Ignoring the fury in her eyes, he caught her hand and weaved his fingers through hers. This was going to be risky, but heck, he wasn't going to be yet another victim of his dad's endless manipulation. He took in a deep breath and said, ‘I know it's your big day, Dad. But I have a small announcement of my own to make.'

KD's eyebrows shot sky-high as he growled, ‘Really? I'm all ears.'

‘There's something you need to know about Maya,' Krish said, scanning Maya's wide-eyed expression.

Maya's heart stopped thundering for a nano-fraction of a second.

‘Maya is my fiancée.'

Krish's words sent shockwaves all around. KD's face turned stony as he glared at Krish. Disbelief and confusion swept through Maya, spilling through her eyes as she glared at him.

‘Are you out of your mind, Krish? You are going to marry a girl like her?' KD bellowed.

KD's angry words barely registered as Maya's mind struggled to make sense of Krish's declaration. The blood was pounding in her ears as Krish's next words to KD slammed through her consciousness.

‘You should be happy, Dad. I have finally found the girl I want to spend my life with. We are getting married next week.'

CHAPTER TWO

M
AYA DASHED OUT
of the ballroom and on to the street, her heart still racing, her mind still trying to make sense of Krish's wild proposition. She'd had just one glass of wine so she definitely wasn't drunk. Maybe that was what rich, bored playboys like Krish did for entertainment—play silly pranks on unsuspecting girls. But even that didn't make sense—he knew about her work at the British High Commission. Of course! It was Krish who'd sent her the invitation and she'd stupidly jumped to the conclusion that it was KD. Was it just a ruse to get her to the party to proposition her? But why? Who, in his right mind, would propose marriage to a girl he'd just met? That too, when as heir to the Dev business empire he could have his pick of the hottest girls in the country? And she didn't even want to think about that scorcher of a kiss! What was his game?

As she grappled with Krish's mind-boggling proposal, an auto-rickshaw honked loudly and screeched to a halt beside her. ‘Madam,
yahan sawaari milna mushkil hai. Aapko kahan jaana hai?
You're unlikely to find a cab or an auto here at this hour. Where do you want to go?'

Right. And she'd no desire to trek to the taxi stand, which was more than a mile away, in her five-inch stilettos and her backless party dress! With a terse nod, she got into the auto and instructed the driver, ‘Hauz Khas
chalo.
'

* * *

It had all gone wrong. Krish contemplated how the evening had turned into such a disaster. Except, of course, for that soul-stirring, passion-filled dance. Where had that come from? He really needed to get a grip on himself. How long had it been since he'd slept with a woman? Granted, Maya was an extremely attractive woman, but there was no need for him to trip over her. For God's sake, he had behaved like an adolescent with raging hormones, not a man of the world who was used to dating some of the most ravishing women in India. He smiled as he recalled how she had so easily labelled him as a playboy.

But it wasn't all bad. If nothing else, he had stymied KD's plans for a big, splashy announcement of an engagement between himself and Amisha. The media would have gone nuts over it. Their rivals would have marvelled at the business chutzpah of such a match, finally leading up to The Great Indian Wedding in a blitz of opulence and media hype. That was not going to happen.
Never.
He had bought himself some time by proposing to Maya. So the evening hadn't been such a disaster after all. He only hoped he had not completely screwed his chances with her. She was an integral part of his overall game plan. And he could not fail!

KD had been furious at his announcement—and Krish had expected nothing else. But, as he'd tried to calm his father down, Maya had disappeared. It had taken Krish a while to realise that she was not in the ballroom and by the time he had sprinted out of the hotel in search of her she had disappeared into the night.

His BlackBerry buzzed urgently with a text:
‘I'm at the Penthouse suite on the twenty-first floor. Don't keep me waiting.'

Krish scowled. KD had issued his imperial order. Just like he had on his graduation day from Pennsylvania University, eight years ago. He had been in the midst of a wild party at his pad in Philadelphia with his friends, celebrating making it into Harvard. The music wasn't loud enough to drown out the insistent phone. It was his dad—summoning him back to India. Krish's protests had died on his lips as soon as he heard that his mother was very ill. He'd taken the first flight out and arrived in Delhi, only to find out that his father had lied to him. Krish had seethed at the subterfuge but his father was unrepentant. KD wanted him to join the family business and put his foreign education to some use. It was payback time. Krish's protests that he had earned a scholarship to study at one of the most prestigious business schools were brushed aside as so much nonsense. ‘No business school can teach you what the school of hard knocks can,' KD had declared. At first Krish had railed against his father's diktat. Then pleaded. But to no avail. Finally it was his mother who had made his father see reason.

Krish entered the elevator and stabbed the ‘Penthouse' button angrily. He'd never figured out how she'd managed to convince him. As the elevator swished open directly into the penthouse's plush gold-and-blue living room, Krish pushed away his thoughts. The bitterness he felt towards his father had a complicated history and it was pointless to dwell on it. A sense of déjà vu filled Krish as he geared up to face off with KD yet again.

KD was waiting for him, a tumbler of Scotch in his hand, on the terrace lawn of the penthouse, which afforded a spectacular view of the Delhi skyline. In the distance, Krish could see the distinctive dome of the pink stone Humayun's Tomb, a regal backdrop to the modern expressway that arched in front of it. Row upon row of lights sparkled on the expressway as cars streaked away to the furthest corners of the city.

KD swilled his drink and faced him. ‘Care to tell me what that was all about?'

‘How about offering me a drink first? After all, I will soon be marrying one of the most gorgeous women in town.'

‘You want me to celebrate the fact that I have a fool for a son? Or should I rejoice at the thought that I will soon be shelling out a huge amount of money to get rid of your “gorgeous” troublemaker?'

Krish had known his father would go for the jugular. Subtlety had never been one of his virtues. ‘I don't expect your blessing but would it be too much to show my fiancée some respect?'

‘You want me to show
respect
to a two-bit gold-digger with whom you spent a few nights?'

‘Let's not trade insults,' Krish shot back sharply.

‘Fine, you had fun with her. Good for you. Take her to Thailand, the Swiss Alps, Timbuktoo, for all I care. Work her out of your system or, if you can't, she can be your mistress. But, for God's sake, Krish, do you have to marry her?'

Krish's determination to stay cool was being sorely tested. ‘I'm not asking you for suggestions on how to live my life. I'm marrying Maya and that's final.'

KD exhaled slowly, trying to keep his temper on a leash. There was a lot at stake here and he needed Krish on his side. This girl was a complication that needed to be dealt with, swiftly. He put his arm around his son. ‘Listen to me, Krish. Marriage is an important milestone. You can't tie the knot with the first girl you think you are in love with.'

Krish repressed a snort at that. Love didn't come into KD's scheme at all. For that matter, it didn't in his either. But one thing was for sure—he and his father had totally divergent reasons for that. ‘There's nothing to discuss. As I said, my decision is final and there is nothing you can say or do to change my mind.'

KD controlled himself. Barely. ‘I have given my word to the Mittals that you and Amisha will have the grandest wedding ever seen in India this Diwali. You want me to call it off and lose face?'

Anger flashed in Krish's eyes. ‘You didn't think it necessary to ask
my
opinion before you took a decision about
my
life?'

‘It's not just
your
life, son. It's about the Dev family!'

‘A wedding in Diwali and a takeover of the Mittal group in the New Year? Was that your plan?' Krish smiled coolly at the look of surprise on his father's face. ‘So, it's just another business deal that you have struck with the Mittals. Well, I want no part of it.'

KD was a hair's breadth away from losing his composure. ‘Krish! It's more than a business deal. It's the coming together of two families…Besides, you will never find a better girl than Amisha to be your wife.'

Krish's eyes narrowed. He knew what his father was leading up to. The same old arguments about filial obligations, family prestige, blah-blah…He'd heard it all his life. Who better than him to know just how little his father truly cared about family values? It was just another tactic KD used in his game of endless manipulation. But he wouldn't be intimidated. Not any more. Not after he'd seen how his sweet, serene, spiritual mother had paid the price for her selfless devotion to her family. His voice hardened as he raised his hand. ‘Dad, let's not do this. I am your son but you don't own me.'

The air was so thick with tension that a knife could have sliced through it. The phone rang. KD picked it up and barked into it; ‘Yes?' After listening for barely a moment he said, ‘Viren,
tumhe pata hai kya karna hai.
You know what to do. I'll be there in a bit.'

Krish walked away towards the elevator. ‘Your guests are waiting for you and I don't think they would be happy with Viren as a substitute. And oh, by the way, happy birthday!'

* * *

The elevator stopped at the fifth floor. Maya pushed her way out of the crammed compartment and walked down the corridor towards the frosted glass door with ‘Evergreen Consultants' splashed on it in big, bright green letters. As she passed by the reception desk, a pretty girl called out, ‘Good morning, Maya! Will you just hold on for a sec, please?'

Maya stopped at the desk. ‘Good morning!'

As the receptionist handed her an envelope, Maya laughed. ‘What's this? An early pay day?'

But the receptionist looked away, fidgeting with the phone cord. ‘Your things are in that box. Kavita Madam's orders.'

Maya looked at the cardboard box that sat on the counter. ‘My stuff?'

She tore open the envelope. It contained a note that simply said:
‘You are fired.'
Kavita's scrawl beneath those three words confirmed this was no mistake. There was a cheque for sixty thousand rupees—which included severance pay and her salary to date. Numb with shock, she hesitated before she grabbed the box and left the office.

Six months and twelve days—that was how long her job had lasted before it had gone kaput! It didn't take a genius to figure out why she had been fired without being given any reason. All it had taken was a call from KD and Kavita would have bent over backwards to follow his orders. After all, she was just a lowly employee while he was an all-powerful client who could generate new business for Evergreen in a snap. Maya had a good mind to storm into Kavita's office and demand an explanation. But how would that make a difference? The writing on the wall was as clear as a big, bright neon sign. She could forget about her dreams of becoming a landscape designer, about making a life in this city. Her diploma was now reduced to a mere scrap of paper that she might as well dump in the rubbish bin. All her hard work counted for nothing. The close-knit community of landscaping professionals and employers would not touch her with a twenty-foot bargepole—KD would have made damn sure of that.

Rage. She felt that old familiar emotion rip through her. She'd known rage for a very long time. Rage at her own inability to help her father, whose agony she could only fathom when he thrashed about in his alcohol-induced sleep. Rage at her father for being powerless to take on his tormentor, KD. Rage at the injustice of it all. Over the years, the flames of her rage had died down to become a steady glowing ember, but it had been enough to fuel her desire to bring KD down, to snatch away the power that gave him the right to treat others like dirt, take away their dignity by exercising his money and influence. And, once again, KD had left her feeling undermined and powerless.

As she stepped out into the street, a dust storm raged. Leaves and litter whirled around her as pedestrians ran for cover. The tall Ashoka trees swayed and bent over, as if trying to keep out of the devastating path of the angry storm. Maya's angst had projected itself into the universe. The storm raged, as did her emotions. Taking refuge under a bus shelter, she recalled that dreadful night four years ago.

She had just stepped into the overcrowded public hospital in Howrah where her father was being treated for cirrhosis of the liver. She had prepared and packed his favourite fish curry and rice. The elderly nurse, whom everyone called Mashi, had reassured her that Papa was on the road to recovery. As she entered the cramped general ward, which he shared with twenty other patients, she saw Mashi hovering over his bed.

‘How's Papa, Mashi?' she asked. ‘Can I take him home tonight?'

Mashi turned towards her, her kind eyes full of an unspoken sadness. ‘My child, your father has gone…'

Maya stared uncomprehendingly at Mashi. ‘Gone?'

Mashi took her in her arms, squashing her to her ample breast. ‘He's gone to his maker. May his soul rest in peace.'

The tiffin box clattered to the ground.

‘Papa…No, that's not possible. You said he was going to be fine. You…you said…'