eFiction India eFiction India Vol.02 Issue.09 | Página 20

19

STORIES

cool answer. She was not her father’s daughter for nothing. “As for Rhea, she will learn
to live with it.”
He was belligerent. “I can disown you; you
know that.”
At that moment she could have turned her
back on him and walked out. Whenever
they had an argument that was his usual
threat to get her to back down. Besides Veer
had more than enough wealth of his own.
Then again she knew she wouldn’t: this was
her inheritance and she wasn’t going to give
it up. The tigress looked at him, her eyes
piercing.
“I am your only child, Dada.” The tigress
could play games too. “I know you love me
and you want me in your life.”
“I do but not with that man. Doesn’t he
have any sense, what is he thinking of? He
should know better.”
Her voice was soft. “Veer is going to be my
husband and one day the father of my children. Would you rather that you and Mum
are not a part of our lives?”
The aged lion bowed his head in defeat. She
knew she had won the battle but had she
won the war?
They were married a week later in a quiet
affair. The gossip mills were grinding overtime, like a dog chasing its tail: round and
round in circles. She smiled to herself cynically, with not one but two fortunes behind
her: doors would open. This brought her
thoughts back to her father; he had been
very quiet and withdrawn, not even waiting
to congratulate them after the wedding.
It was as if her very presence pained him
immeasurably. What if he makes good his
threat and disowns me? – she thought with
a start.

eFiction India | June 2014

She looked over at her husband; the sharp
chiseled features framed by the slicked-back
brown hair; a touch of grey at the temples.
Still lean, muscular and incredibly sexy at
fifty-two.
“Pull over,” she whispered throatily.
“What?” he shouted, barely able to hear her
above the sound of the wind whistling past.
Her hand moved up from his thigh and she
bent towards him. “Pull over,” she gestured
towards an upcoming lay-by.
Veer grinned lopsidedly and thumped the
steering wheel with his right hand.
“Whatever you say, love.”
As soon as the Porsche came to a halt she
undid her seatbelt and turned to him.
“Move your seat back, Veer,” she commanded imperiously.
She wedged herself between the steering
wheel and his body, squirming deliciously
on his lap, her mouth inches away from his
face as she dropped light, frantic kisses on
his neck beneath his collar.
The air was cold and crisp around them
and Veer couldn’t imagine anything more
mindblowing.
“I need you to do something for me,
darling,” she murmured intoxicatingly near
his ear.
“Hmmmm.”
She moved her hips on him sensuously and
whispered, “I know you killed your wife
and now I need you to kill my father.”