The world had always envied the family of Rajvansh yet had fallen on their knees for them. They have been powerful yet a family of criminals. And in the family was stuck Vedika Rajvansh- The wife of the eldest son. There was nothing Vedika could do...
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I could feel her muscles stiffening under my touch as soon as the words came out of my mother's lips like burning fire. She glanced up at my face and disappointment danced in between her eyes because all she could find was stolid face curved out of ice. Her shoulders falling as she took the container from my without a word.
"Enlighten me, Mother, why should I get married?" I asked with indifference as I moved away from her. Vedika might I act oblivion about my conversation with my mother but I could tell that her ears were on me and that couldn't stop a smirk appearing on my face.
My mother scoffed from the other side. "You will turn 31 soon. You can not be unmarried, Abhimanyu. Rajvanshs need their next heir."
My eyes trailed to where Shravani was, busy glancing at the plants in the blacony my designer had kept to 'make the atmosphere light' as she liked to say even if I gave no shit about them but they seemed to come in interest to my daughter.
"What if I say, Mother, I decline," I spoke and could hear my mother gasping from the other side. "You don't understand, Abhimanyu. I do have some potential girls name in my mind but then yesterday, I met Matthias. He wants you to marry Dia and I don't see any problem in that. Dia is one of us and she will make a good wife."
Mother was right. Dia Matthias would make a good wife, unfortunately, I didn't wanted her as my wife. In the depths of blue, I hunted for pools of honey. I wanted the chase she was bringing me and I wasn't leaving like that.
"I don't what that witch has done to you that you do—"
"Enough Mother. I'm the man in control and for that, I make all the decisions," I growled and my decision was the woman in the kitchen.
I could hear the sigh from the other end as if my words didn't bothered her for a bit but even though, she was the woman who gave birth to me, she looked up to me like the boss of the Cartel and not her son. Never did after I took over my father's place in the underworld.
"Think about it," she murmured into a torn low voice before hanging up the phone. I could hear some ruffling from the kitchen as I sat on the bar stool, watching the blank screen with hard gaze then I ever did.
"Drink."
The slamming of the glass next to me broke me from crashing the phone with my bare hands as I narrowed my eyes at red painted nails and then the honey eyes that looked down at me with indifference.
"Why?" I eyed the glass of lemon juice with distaste in my eyes. "To lower your consumption of alcohol. We don't your sexy face shrinking with intoxicant, do we?"
The words rolled of her lips like a mother scolding her child that for a second made me believe I was another Shravani. I prodded my elbows on the marble counter with causality and smirked at her with amusement.
