Winner of Wattpad India Awards 2020 (Judge's Choice) in the New Adult category.
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"The lights are cheeky, you can't live without them, and yet if you get too close, they'll blind you. Darkness? Well it doesn't cheat. It's cool and soothing. It's r...
"Of course not. I also desperately want India to lose the next test, and then I want to drown Gayatri in Bhabra nadi before I go pray for Sattu to trip and fall in his civils interview-"
She kissed him. "Chutiya."
With a low chuckle against her cheek, Nakul's palm on her back slid down to grab the hem of her kurti, tossing it over her head and on the floor. Warm lips sucked on the hollow of her throat, fingers digging into her hips.
Back arched, eyes rolled, breath hitched, Madhu barely registered his mumbled question, "So what now? You're cancelling your flight?"
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She didn't cancel the flight. For several reasons but most prominently, if she'd stayed in Bhabra for one more day, the urge to drag him to the temple and wed at the crack of dawn would've been too pressing to ignore. An idea she found romantic but Nakul had the good sense to dodge.
"We don't need to your father to hate me more than he already does."
Which is why she found herself slumped across his desk at the CP office, stuffing her face with roadside vadas lathered in coconut chutney, and glaring as Mahesh Lal Thakur droned on about the guest list, seemingly oblivious.
"We just need the Khannas to RSVP to finalize the seating arrangement--"
"There is no seating arrangement, it's a casual soiree. Exclusive. To thank our investors and probably get some more," she said, licking her fingers just to spite him. He maintained his cool.
"Casual is not how one marks a year-long successful run of their hotel. Think of how many people we've offended by not inviting."
"Offence which'll would only prompt them to buy tickets for the midnight gala that'll follow." Her father loved Delhi because she had fulfilled his dreams. Madhu, however, was practically raised in her arms. Arms that bred cynicism.
Exactly a year ago, at her hotel's opening night, Madhu had praised Delhi as the shining example of Indian hospitality. That was partially true. She was welcoming for tourists. Residents? Not so much. Her high society was a mess of concentric circles-political, bureaucratic, media and business. The more these snobs felt left out from said circles, the more desperate they became to claw in. Exclusivity was the best marketing gimmick for luxury brands like Jasm Inn. And exploiting the Lutyens' class order for profit was her favourite pastime.
Bhabra, on the other hand, couldn't be more different. Cold and rigidly traditional on the surface, it repelled outsiders. But once accepted within the community, there was no other place she would rather be in.
