The entire house smelled of frying spices, pure ghee and boiling sugar. From early afternoon Niharika bhabhi had been a whirlwind of motion in the kitchen. Her glass bangles clinked furiously against the stone counter as she prepared the grand dinner.

The pressure cooker had whistled three times already. It filled the small apartment with the heavy rich aroma of dal makhani and shahi paneer. Little Rihan sat on a small mat in the hallway. He was completely ignored for once. He happily chewed on a plastic mixing spoon.

Ninad rushed around the living room. He tried to clear the clutter from the coffee table.

Avani stood near the kitchen sink, scraping the edges of a metal bowl filled with thick, slow-boiling almond kheer. She was moving the wooden spatula automatically, her eyes fixed on the white bubbles rising to the surface, but her mind was completely paralyzed.

Ever since she had read Varun’s text message the previous night, her life had felt like a ticking bomb.

The raw, possessive threat in his words had replayed in her head a thousand times during her morning lectures. Just remembering the text made her stomach tighten with a sharp, dizzying mix of intense anxiety and shameless excitement.

She was absolutely terrified of what he might do in front of her brother, but her body, still deeply sensitive and aching from the wild lodge encounter, throbbed with a dangerous hunger just at the prospect of being near him.

"Avu, turn down the flame," Niharika said, rushing past her with a tray of clean steel glasses. She wiped a line of sweat from her upper lip with her forearm. "The kheer is thickening too much. If it burns at the bottom, the whole dinner will be ruined. And please, go change your clothes quickly. They must be on their way. Look at you, you are still wearing that faded old cotton kurta."

Avani turned off the gas knob with a shaking hand. "Bhabhi, it's just Varun and his wife. Why are we making such a huge deal out of it? It's not like they are strangers."

Niharika stopped, turning around to look at her with wide, serious eyes. "Are you crazy? It has been more than six months since Seema came to our house. You know how respected her father is in our community. She belongs to a very traditional, rich family. If our arrangements look messy, what will she think? Your brother's reputation in the society depends on these small things. Now stop arguing and go get dressed."

“Yes bhabhi”

“And call him Varun bhaiya, not just Varun?”, Niharika said.

“Sorry…it slipped out of my mouth”, Avani bit her tongue hard.

“Hmm…now go and change”

Avani let out a silent sigh and walked toward her bedroom.

Her legs felt heavy, almost numb. She closed the door and stood in front of her small wardrobe, her heart drumming a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She didn't want to look beautiful tonight. She wanted to be invisible. The thought of facing Varun’s wife, Seema, made her feel like a disgusting criminal. She was the girl who had spent the previous morning wrapped around Seema’s husband in a highway lodge, begging him to take her harder.

She pulled out a simple, dark blue salwar suit. It was plain, without any heavy embroidery or bright colors, but the fabric was soft and fit her body perfectly, tracing the gentle curve of her waist and hips. As she combed her long, dark hair and tied it into a neat, tight braid, she looked at her reflection in the small mirror. Her lips still looked slightly full, and when she tilted her head, she could see the faint edge of the bite mark on her collarbone, hidden safely beneath the high neck of her dark blue kurta. She adjusted her dupatta, pinning it tightly across her chest in a wide layer, ensuring everything was completely locked away from the world.

Just as she stepped out of her room, the loud, sharp chime of the doorbell echoed through the small house.

Avani’s breath caught in her throat. Her entire body went completely rigid in the middle of the corridor.

"Ninad! Open the door!" Niharika shouted from the kitchen, her voice strained with last-minute panic as she adjusted her heavy matching dupatta.

Ninad hurried past Avani, wiping his hands on a hand towel. He unlocked the main wooden door and pulled it open with a bright, welcoming smile. "Aaja, Varun! Seema bhabhi! Aaiye, aaiye. Please come in."

Avani stood in the shadow of the hallway. Her fingers gripped the fabric of her salwar tightly as she watched them step into the small living room.

Varun walked in first. He looked incredibly handsome. His frame completely dominated the tight space of their apartment. He wore a crisp ironed black linen shirt with the top two buttons open. His dark stubble was neatly trimmed. His sharp jawline looked exceptionally stern. The black color made him look even broader, more powerful and completely distinct from the chaotic domesticity of Avani’s home.

Right behind him stepped Seema.

Avani’s eyes immediately fixed on Varun's wife. Her heart took a painful agonizing dive. Seema was a beautiful woman in a very traditional quiet way. She was dressed in a sophisticated expensive maroon silk saree with a thin gold border. Her hair was gathered in a flawless low bun. A neat line of red sindoor marked the parting of her hair. A delicate gold mangalsutra hung around her neck. She looked elegant calm and completely proper. The perfect picture of a respectable Indian wife.

But as Avani watched them closely she noticed something subtle. When Ninad greeted them Varun did not look at Seema. Seema did not look at him either. There was a strange cold distance in the way they stood near each other. There was a complete lack of that invisible warm connection that usually exists between a husband and wife. Seema’s face was polite but her smile looked completely practiced. It was like a mask she had put on just for the evening.

Namaste, Ninad bhaiya," Seema said. Her voice was soft and measured as she handed a small box of sweets to Avani’s brother. "I hope we did not keep you waiting. The market road was completely blocked."

"Not at all, bhabhi. Come, please sit," Ninad said. He guided them toward the main three-seater sofa.

Their living room was small. It contained just that one sofa and a couple of plastic chairs near the dining corner. Because the space was so tight Varun and Seema had to sit close together on the cushions.

Avani watched. A sudden burning streak of jealousy seared through her veins as Seema gracefully adjusted her maroon saree and sat right next to Varun. Her shoulder naturally brushed against his broad arm.

The sight made Avani’s stomach twist into a painful toxic knot. The raw animalistic jealousy was so intense it almost made her gasp a little. She hated seeing that woman sit so close to him. She hated knowing that Seema had the legal right to touch him, to carry his name and to stand beside him in front of the whole world. Meanwhile she had to hide like a filthy secret in dark basements and locked lodge rooms.

"Avani, bring the water tray!" Niharika called out from the kitchen.

Avani swallowed the bitter lump in her throat. She forced her face into a completely blank polite expression. She walked into the kitchen, picked up the steel tray containing four glasses of cold water and walked slowly into the living room. Her knees felt weak. Her hands shook slightly as the steel glasses clinked softly against the tray.

She stepped in front of the sofa and kept her eyes firmly lowered. "Namaste, Varun bhaiya. Namaste, Seema bhabhi."

"Namaste, Avani," Seema smiled warmly. She reached out to take a glass from the tray. "How are your studies going? Your brother always praises your dedication."

"They are going well, bhabhi. Final year is just a bit busy," Avani replied. Her voice sounded thin and formal.

She shifted the tray slightly and stepped directly in front of Varun. She finally forced herself to raise her gaze. She looked straight into his eyes as she extended the tray toward him.

Varun was leaning back against the sofa cushions. His long legs were stretched out. He did not reach for the glass immediately. Instead he kept his dark heavy eyes locked onto her face. His gaze was cold intensely possessive and completely burning with the silent fury from the afternoon. He scanned her simple blue suit. His eyes lingered on her tightly pinned dupatta before moving up to look at her swollen lips. The sheer dominance in his stare felt like a physical touch. It made her inner thighs throb instantly in secret.

He reached out his large calloused hand to grasp the remaining steel glass. As his thick fingers wrapped around the metal his bare knuckle deliberately brushed hard against the side of her thumb.

The brief rough friction felt like a sudden spark of electricity shot straight up her arm. Avani shivered softly. Her breath caught in her throat as she quickly pulled the tray back. Her heart pounded so loudly she was terrified Seema might hear it over the sound of the television.

Varun took a slow sip of the water. His eyes moved between Ninad, the television and her face. A faint dark curve appeared at the corner of his mouth. He was playing with her. And she was completely helpless under his spell.