Bhairav's POV:

I couldn't believe our last evening in Nainital had already arrived. Yet, it was the night I had been looking forward to the most.

A grand gathering had been arranged, attended primarily by the town's most prominent families and distinguished guests. The evening had been organized to entertain the foreign visitors, with graceful local women performing traditional dances while fine wine flowed as freely as conversation.

But the only annoying part was that I had to wear a suit like the Englishmen. It felt suffocating. What was the need for this anyway? I looked royal enough in my dhoti and kurta.

Sanjana stepped between me and the table at that time. Her gentle, alta-painted fingers smoothed out the creases on my white shirt, and she fixed my coat as well. There was a shy smile on her lips as she kept her eyes downcast. Her cheeks were pink.

"Aap toh angrezo se bhi acha dikh rahe ho, Sarkar."

(You look better than the foreigners, my lord.)

I rolled my eyes and pulled the collar of my shirt backwards. Especially with the damn tie, it felt like there was a leash on my neck.

"Chain se saas bhi nahi le paa raha..."

(I can't even breathe properly...)

My wife made a face as she fixed my collar and top buttons again stubbornly, "Aaj raat keliye thoda kam saas lijiye." When she looked satisfied with my appearance, she pushed me to the side so that she could check herself out in the mirror.

(Breathe a little less for tonight.)

She wore her sari differently tonight. Her veil only wrapped around her chest; it didn't cover her face. Since we were going to quite a modern gathering, she had dressed accordingly.

My wife was busy correcting the flowers in her hair. Her lovely bangles jingled as she ran a hand over her sari and necklace. My nymph's eyes were lined with kohl, and her lips were lush and pink.

I couldn't hold back anymore as I brushed my hand down her exposed back. Her choli was more revealing than usual, and the red sari emphasized her lovely curves.

Sanjana gave me a warning look in the mirror because the children were on our bed, discussing among themselves about the party we were attending. Kids weren't allowed there, and Maa was far too tired to attend it with us. Even though Sanjana was hesitant at first, she insisted on coming along after knowing there would be drinks and women. 

My eyes met hers in the mirror, and I gently curved my hand around her waist. Sanjana gripped my hand when I nearly tickled her navel. How could I not? Her studded hip chain was making it really difficult for me to keep it in my pants.

Sanjana huffed and pushed my hand away at that time. She wrapped the veil around her beautifully, leaving no skin for me to touch.

I almost smirked while sliding my hand down and squeezing her butt. Her eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed even more.

Did she really think she could keep me away?

My whole purpose in life was to fuck her, cherish her, and infuriate her.

Sanjana cleared her throat, "Dadi ko tang mat karna, theek hai? Hume aane mein der hogi. Dadi ke saath so jaana."

(Don't cause trouble for your Dadi. We'll be coming home late, so go to bed with her.)

The children whined and fussed again. It took Maa and Sanjana another few minutes to convince them. Saarang looked upset as well that he couldn't come along.

"Apne aap ka khayal rakhna... Zyada der bahar mat rehna," Maa warned us. Her hand softly patted my wife's stomach as well. She was quite worried about the baby.

(Take care of yourself... Don't stay outside for too long.)

The party venue was quite nearby in an English mansion. By the time we reached, almost all the guests had arrived. My wife was startled when I held her waist.

"Aa-aap yeh... Yeh kya kar rahe hain...?" She looked so embarrassed as she whispered to me. There were quite a lot of eyes on us, not because I held her boldly, but because she looked actually stunning tonight.

(Wh-what... What are you doing...?)

The white colonisers turned heads while smoking their pipes. I held her closer. I was far from a gentleman, as Sanjana liked to claim. In fact, I was a dirty, cheap bastard. I'd go to any extent to prove that my woman was mine and mine alone. Everyone else could fuck right off.

"Bhairav Ji..." My wife hissed; her hand was secretly pinching mine now so that I'd stop touching her like this. Not a chance.

"Log aise ghur ke dekh rahe hai... Kuch zyada hi taiyar ho gayi," I commented as she smiled nervously at the crowd. Maybe she was a little overdressed, but she looked lovely nevertheless.

(People are staring at you so much... Maybe you dressed up a bit too much.)

The few foreigners I knew came forward to greet us. They had tried to buy the factory from me earlier, but I wasn't that stupid. Their wives looked especially glamorous with large diamond ornaments.

"And this must be Mrs.Chaudhary. My, she looks so young despite having kids," a woman commented.

I was going to reply, but Sanjana beat me to it, "With how notorious the kids are, I'll be getting old soon."

She amused everyone around her. Even I was surprised. The women chuckled and seemed to adore her immediately. They were shocked that she spoke and understood English, but I realised she had been working quite hard for the school. Sanjana had been reading all of Keshav's books to the best of her ability.

I felt quite proud that I had ignited that spark in her.

"The champagne here is lovely... Have you tasted it? Come, Mrs.Chaudhary, let me get you a glass," one of the women tugged Sanjana's arm. She suddenly looked alarmed as she whispered to me, "Yeh champagne kya hota hai?"

(What do they mean by 'champagne'?)

"Daru," I replied, and my wife's eyes widened. Her reactions were truly entertaining.

(Alcohol.)

"No! No... No! I can't!" She panicked and politely pulled her hand away before clutching my sleeve. It was adorable to think that she clung to me whenever she wanted saving.

"Bataiye na inhe... Ek aurat kaise daru pee sakti hai? Aur bache ko bhi kitna nuksaan ho jayega!"

(Tell them... How can a woman drink alcohol? And it will harm the baby!)

I watched her quietly for a while before turning to the foreigners, "You see she-"

Sanjana clutched my sleeve again, "Bache ke baare mein mat bataiye!" Her face was red, "B-buri nazar pad sakti hai."

(Don't say about the child! S-someone might cast the evil eye.)

"Theek hai, jaan," I sighed.

(Alright, my dear.)

"You see, she's not very fond of drinking," I replied, and the others nodded in understanding. Sanjana let go of my sleeve at that time, looking like an embarrassed child.

When the women insisted on introducing her to the others as well, I let her go. She'd be alright by herself. Sanjana was sharper than she gave credit for. Meanwhile, I was busy understanding the developments in England and other parts of the world regarding business. It would be quite profitable in the coming years if we could start working towards international branches. The more money, the better.

Music and dance began at that time. Everyone was mesmerized by the performance. It was perfectly seductive, and the three women who led the performance were dressed only to catch the eye of men. Their cholis revealed deep cleavage, and their eyes were fairly dilated with drugs. Their waists were curvy and their breasts large. It was a joke that they were wearing skirts, because that was quite see-through as well.

"Hindustan ke ladkiyo ki baat hi alag hai..." One of the men mumbled. He was smoking a tobacco pipe, eyes fixed on the maidens. Even I was quite invested in the dance. Maybe because it felt nostalgic. I used to be a regular at brothels, and Baba had given up on me at one point. But only now did my life feel worth living.

(The girls in India are truly something else...)

"Looks like one of them likes you..." A British man grinned and nudged me while pointing his champagne glass to a doe-eyed beauty. She had been eyeing me and pressing herself against a pole while winking.

I noticed one of the drunk men had already begun dancing with the women. He even touched another girl, and the crowd only laughed.

Where was Sanjana? I thought she was going to drag me away from all this in a dramatic, stubborn fashion.

I saw her standing in the corner beside a few British women. She was hugging herself. But it looked like she was clawing her own arm. There was pure rage in her eyes as she glared not at me, but at the woman eyeing me like dinner.

It was the same look I saw in my men before committing murder.

The doe-eyed beauty took soft strides towards me as she flaunted her curves. Her steps matched the beat of the song, and she did smell quite sweet and foreign as she squeezed my collar.

"Aapke haatho se barbaad hona chahta hu, Sarkar."

(I want to be ruined at your hands, my lord.)

I almost winced internally. It sounded so much nicer when Sanjana called me that. And this woman's smell was suffocating, even though sweet. It was entirely different from my wife's. I couldn't explain it, but I loved Sanjana's scent on my sheets every morning. It felt like home.

Almost instantly, I twisted the strange woman's wrist. How dare she touch me? Woman or not, I fucking hated it when strangers touched me like this.

"Jaanti bhi ho ki mai kaun hu? Kisi aur ko jaakar pareshan karo... Hatt."

(Do you even realise who you're messing with? Go bother someone else... Out of my sight.)

She grew panicked and pulled away quickly. There was fear in her eyes now, and she refused to look at me anymore. The men beside me scoffed among themselves, and one of them even commented that I was ungrateful and that I had missed a very juicy opportunity. I ignored them and searched the crowd for my wife.

"Sanjana?" I was surprised to see her standing not too far from me. She had tried to reach me before the other girl could go overboard. After all, my wife got jealous quite easily. She had every right to do so.

It was hard to believe as Sanjana squeezed my coat immediately. There were so many emotions coursing through her eyes as she kept them downcast. Pain, frustration, jealousy, fear...

It looked like she was afraid that I'd give in to the charms of the other woman. I'd never do that to her. Even though my father was a brute, loyalty was a lesson he had carved deep into my being.

I brushed the hair on her forehead and kissed right below her sindoor. It was the best way that I could reassure her that I wasn't leaving her again.

Sanjana's eyes were suddenly teary as she stared at me in shock. It eased my heart to see all her fear disappear in a blink. There was even a ghost of a smile on her lips as she held my arm.

"Bahut der se khadi ho. Bhuk nahi lag rahi? Wahan jaakar baitthe hai. Chalo," I led her to one of the tables in a quiet corner, and we sat down.

(You've been standing for a long time now. Aren't you hungry? Let's go sit down over there. Come with me.)

"Mujhe bilkul pasand nahi jab anjaan log apni hadd paar kar dete hain," I muttered under my breath, taking out a cigarette.

(I hate it when strangers cross the line like this.)

"Mujhe bhi nahi pasand," My wife smiled and hugged my arm. She was awfully cheerful for some reason as she pulled her chair as close to mine as possible. If given the chance, she'd even climb onto my lap right now. I was surprised when she gathered enough courage to hold my face and peck me on the cheek too. I could swear that she had left a pink lip print on my cheek.

Sanjana's eyes were twinkling as she stared at me with all the love in her heart. I sighed. Even when I did the bare minimum, it always fascinated me how she reciprocated thrice as much.

"Suniye..." She whispered while drawing seductive patterns on the palm of my hand, "Mujhe aapke aur bhi bache chahiye."

(Listen... I want to have more kids.)

Her pregnancy hormones could be a headache sometimes.

"Mujhe nahi chahiye," I replied and took a glass of grape juice from a waiter. "Ise peekar dekho. Isme daaru nahi hai. Aur main khaane ke liye bhi laane ko kehta hoon."

(I don't. Drink this and see, there's no alcohol in it. And I'll ask them to bring you food.)

Sanjana took the glass hesitantly from me. She made a face because of the color, "Yeh kya hai?"

(What is this?)

"Angur ka ras. Sehath ke liye acha hai. Bacho ki tarah bartaav mat karo," I slipped my hand around her shoulder. Sanjana glared at me, and eventually took a sip of the grape juice. She liked it and emptied the glass quickly.

(Grape juice. It's good for your health. Don't behave like a kid.)

"Aapko aur bhi pyaare pyaare Raghu aur Jaanu nahi chahiye, Thakur Ji?" She giggled.

(Don't you want more adorable little Raghus and Jaanus, Thakur Ji?)

I narrowed my eyes at her, "Kis khushi mein? Abhi bhi bhula nahi hu ki mera radio un shaitano ne kharaab ki hai. Aur unke jaisa aur banana chahti ho?"

(For what joy? I haven't forgotten that those little devils broke my radio. And you want to make more of them?)

She pouted at my words, "Par mujhe aapke jaise aur bhi pyaare bache chahiye!"

(But I want more adorable babies who are like you.)

"Yeh aakhri hai," I pointed at her stomach.

(This is the last one.)

My wife almost smirked at me. She began running her hand over my suit pants, "Mujhe aapko manane keliye aur bhi tareeke malum hai, Sarkar."

(I know more ways to convince you, my lord.)

I grabbed her hand before she could touch me somewhere dangerous. "Woh sab baad mein. Abhi khaana khaane ke baad nikalte hain, kya kehti ho?"

(You can do that later. Now, let's leave after having dinner. What do you say?)

Sanjana's eyes sparkled, and she nodded excitedly, "Mm! Bahut bhuk lagi hai, Ji." I smiled.

(Okay! I'm really starving.)

A/N - I got distracted watching a movie :p