Chapter 3.

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~Zaeden~

The buzzing in my ears and my heartbeats steeply rising due to my rage slowly declined as I watched my son's face poke out from under thick layers of a pink jacket and safely tucked in the arms of a woman.

The nanny was fed her monthly wages in 5 figures and yet, she was incapable of holding my son's hand tight in a fucking fair. She was going to die. She was going to laid out beside the dead bodies of the biker gangs and her children were going to feel the similar fear and pain my Darsh had to endure.

I pulled him out from her arms into mine, unwrapping the jacket from around him and gently kissing his face. My son was unequivocally brave. Even after being left alone in a riot, his eyes twinkled with satisfaction and euphoria as if he had been to the beach.
"Are you okay, Darsh? Are you hurt? Did they touch you?" I bombarded him with questions as the smell of smoke mixed with a little scent of cucumber melon surrounded us.

"I cried alot, Daddy. But Maahi saved me." He exchanged his glance to the woman before us as she smiled up at him. Her golden skin blazed brighter than the fire engulfing the place but her honey-brown eyes were filled with serenity and affection, pure affection and kindness I was cynical about. Her brown hair was tied in a half-bun whereas the shorter pieces stuck to her face.

The guards brought a clean blanket from my car and carefully wrapped them around my son and waiting for me to signal for Darsh to seated in the car. I nodded my head as the guards turned but not before Darsh leaned towards the woman and fiercely kissed her on her cheek.

She brushed a gentle hand against his cheek and waved him off as he disappeared out of sight.

My eyes raked down her body as she trailed off. She was not a lean woman and the fitted turtleneck and ass-hugging jeans highlighted the prominent curve of her figure. "Your son is very smart for his age. I found him hiding behind a cart near the House of Horrors..."

"What were you doing near the House of Horrors?" I questioned, looking back into her eyes as the previous furiousity returned in my veins. The House of Horrors was the one attraction the parents strictly avoided while at a fair. It was where horny teenagers and young adults went to fuck. I was confirmed about this information because I have done this before.

"What are you trying to insinuate?" She begun sharply, directly getting to the point without bothering to put up an innocent act. Women in our society weren't raised to be outspoken and fearless. And they were taught to make a point of never messing with Zaeden Kaushal and his reputation.

"I want to make sure you didn't touch my son with the remnants of a man were present on your skin." I stated when I clearly didn't give a fuck about that. My son had made it out alive, safe and sound. The sources, the situation, the person were not my concern.

She was clenching her jaws and gritting her teeth, trying to tone down the possible bitterness from her earnest answer. Until I watched the earnesty disappear. Her eyes twinkled notoriously as she grinned, crossing her arms around herself and pushing up her tits to an obscenely pornographic amount and said, "I was having tons of sex in the House of Horrors. Infact, I came harder at the sound of gunshot. I was so disappointed when they burnt down the place and we had to leave. I was...what is that term...getting fucked six ways to Sunday."

Engaging with her in any conversations was a goddamn mistake. I had no tolerance or patience for bratty woman and this one had a sharp mouth on herself. She needed thorough discipline and training, the one I was interested in providing her now. Watching her golden skin break into welts, her tears, her desperation and her subjugation. I was beginning to crave them with a morbid curiosity, to sort methods I had given up long ago based on how cruel and ruthless they were.

Harrison intervened our conversation as he held a blank check in his hands and presented it to her. She quirked her brows in confusion and exchanged her vision between the three of us, hoping for some context. My assistant was impeccable and precise at his job but before the attitude on this woman, he never stood a chance.

"This is a blank check. Fill up the desired amount and consider it as a token of our gratitude." He said unambiguously as she viciously narrowed her eyes at him.

"I appreciate your gifts, even if misguided but I don't need your gratitude or your money. What I have done is the most basic humane behavior and I don't expect anything in return." She politely declined but Harrison has always been opinionated and vocal about his thoughts, however unpleasant some might find it.

"Accept it. You look like you need it." Harrison quipped, unamused by her refusal because this was how it went with women. They subtly rejected your offers the first time to avoid appearing selfish but jumped at the very second when pressured further. That was how women operated.

"You look like you need a basic lesson on chauvinist and chivalry but we don't always get what we want." She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. She was not a businessman's daughter or from some pompous aristocratic family so turning down an handsome amount of money was suspicious and unconventional.

"Maahi." A vaguely familiar voice called out for her as a guy rushed towards her and wrapped her in an embrace. He nuzzled his head into her shoulder and held suffocatingly closer to her as if he was lacking his breath without her. I recognized him at once.

Rudra Damani was the son of the financial mogul, Keshav Damani and the heir of the Damani Financial Groups. He was the first Indian European businessmen who was considered as aristocratic. Rudra Damani had only one sister and as far as I cared to recollect, her name was Antara. Which only left with one possibility. She was his girlfriend.

"Are you okay? Fuck, you should have gotten into the car with Antara. What will it take for you to stop being so reckless and disobedient?" He ran his fingers through his hair, reprimanding her but he doesn't waste any time not looking behind her.

"Why were you talking to this man? Why are you even standing with him?" He interrogated her breathlessly and the look of pure alarm and intimidation was beyond satiating. She was unaware of the kind of man I was, but he was not. He maintained his distance and valued his life, recoiling.

"Calm down, Rudra. His son was stuck alone in that riot. And I couldn't just leave him to fend for himself." She argued, trying to reason with him but his sangfroid had evaporated into the thin air now. No reasoning was going to show that she could talk to me with genuine kindness and receive the same. He was right, ofcourse.

"Fine. Let's go home now and just...stay away from him." He snatched her jacket from my hands, helping her slip in and dragging her towards his bike. He rapidly slipped a spare helmet on her head and drove off. Not knowing that he just committed his first mistake.

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