-• claim me •-

Rudra

I love the idea of belonging.
I've been alone for far too long.
I want to be someone's something.

Gentlemen Clubs are my least liked places.

Overcrowded. Loud. Wild. Rowdy. The definition of filthy.

But tonight I had to be here since my regular commute from Rajgarh to Jaigarh might raise suspicions, especially now that I already have what I wanted at my side for so long. Yuvraaj and I decided that he'll handle most of the practical work, like leading the meetings, attending conferences, taking care of all the paper work, basically being the face of the Esther. While I'll take care of things in the background. We've always worked better in a coordination. I being the brain, and him being the body.

These clubs are keen on giving you the privacy. That's what they endorse. Especially to committed, rich men. Nobody wants to be tattled on or worse, photographed while they're enjoying a lap dance or a strip tease.

Ignoring the slender, manicured hands trying to lure me in for some cash, I politely excuse myself from the beautiful, scantily dressed ladies and make my way upstairs. From my peripheral vision, I see an old man with a heavy dad bod slapping a waitress on the butt. She stiffens, but walks off without saying a word

Gentlemen Clubs.

The irony of the name.

Shaking my head, I continue to the second floor. Amir checks the room number on the card key. "That one," he points towards the last room on the left of the hallway. His feet shuffle past me to open the door. I thank him and slip in, taking the card key along with me.

The room is dimly lit. Streaks of red and blue flash across the walls. The ceiling sparkles due to some kind of starry lights. My eyes shift to the centre of the room where a pole stands as a prop for the bikini clad woman. She has smoky eyes, and they find me the moment I make my presence known. The bored expression on her face disappears. She tries reaching for me. I shake my head and walk up to Yuvraaj working on his laptop. She huffs and returns to dancing.

"Don't tell me you both are gay," she mumbles disappointedly.

I sit down across from Yuvraaj and flaunt my wedding ring to her. He does too.

"Married gay men?"

I chuckle. "I don't know about him, but I love my wife. And I'm straight."

Yuvraaj doesn't bother answering, instead he settles on being an asshole. "I believe I've paid you for the next two hours. Do your job."

"My job is to please you." She has a deep, husky undertone in her voice when she speaks aloud.

"Exactly. I'll be pleased if you work that money's worth I spent on you and be quiet."

She rolls her eyes but goes back to her pole.

"For privacy reasons, we'll proceed to speak in Japanese tonight." He commands. I nod in agreement.

"Did we have to meet here?" I ask, taking out my laptop from the briefcase and placing it on the coffee table in front of his. "Did you check the mails I sent you last night?"

He hums. Then he turns his laptop screen around. "Are we working on acquiring assets or liabilities?"

I frown and push my laptop aside, dragging his closer. "But Rajawat Motors were clear of any debts the last time I checked?"

"If that was the case, there wouldn't be any need to start the finance company." Yuvraaj leans back on his seat, sitting crossed legs.

"So, you're saying it's primarily to convert the black money into white so they can stabilise the main corporation?"

"And to evade future taxes, yes."

"You don't think these figures are manipulated to trick the government? I mean bogus loans are always the easiest way to avoid Income Tax?"

He leans in, knees spreading further apart and drapes his arms on his thighs, hands interlacing together in the centre. "That was my first thought. But then I researched a little bit, and I found out the new car-"

"Yeah, made under the campaign of Swadesi."

He glares at me.

"Sorry."

"Is actually not made in india." He surmises. "Except for the assembling of the parts, nothing else is made in India."

"But the company received funds from the government to especially launch a model that's made in India."

"Yes, and then used those funds to bribe the officials to keep their mouth shut. India is not advanced enough to engineer a car all on its own, especially since Rajawat Motors don't target the middle-class. And you know the Chairman when it comes to technology and science."

"He can't settle on anything subpar."

"Exactly. He tied up with the campaign to avoid the government levies. Smart move. I must say, he saved millions. Especially on the custom duty taxes. And when the model is launched, he'll get free marketing since the Prime Minister is going to advertise it."

I nod, impressed. The old man might have a crumbling spinal cord, but his brain is as sharp as a knife.

"So the loans are real."

"Yes, and his plan is to fetch back double through the success of the car launch."

"So why are you worried? Isn't that a win for us?"

"Shourya," he addresses me tiredly, almost as if I'm dumb to not understand the simple point. "I'm telling you we are caught between a rock and a hard place. If the car launch is a success, forget acquiring Rajawat Motors, we can't even afford a brick of it. But if we uncover the truth, which is hard, because there's zero on-paper proof of what he has done, then the market price of Rajawat Motors will drop to a level nobody will ever be interested in it. And let's not forget the debts, potential layoffs, compensation, we'll see a huge dip in our progress if we try to save a drowning ship."

"Shit."

"Yes." He agrees. "The only logical approach to this is to let go."

"You mean drop the idea of Rajawat Motors?"

"Yes." He answers. "We already have Esther Innovations, and 35% of-"

"That's not where my plans end." I cut him off in disapproval.

"But that's where we should stop." He collects his laptop from the table and slams it close. "Too much greed is not okay, Shourya."

"It's not greed. It's revenge."

"Revenge sounds fair only until you don't have responsibilities. Now you do. You'll be jeopardizing her future along with yours if you try to take a long leap. Slow down a little." He advises and picks up his discarded blazer.

"I'm not giving up on my revenge, Yuvraaj." I say firmly.

"I know. Neither am I. But as I've learned to pause where I need to, I want you to learn that as well. You've waited twenty five years. The point is Rajawats ultimate destruction, and we'll achieve that soon."

"No, the point is me getting everything I was denied of because I'm not a child of an illegitimate son." I grit out. "You don't understand, Yuvraaj." I get up to face him. "He discarded me because he thought my blood is not worthy of owning what he owns. I want to prove him wrong. I want all that he has, while he's alive. I just don't want to destroy him, I want to upend him from his throne and sit there. That's where my revenge ends!"

"An Empire is easier to destroy than to take over."

"I know." I nod. "But I've never chosen the easier way. I'll find a way to get the on-paper evidences. Give me some time."

"The car launch is six months away. Make your call." And he walks out of the room.

"There's still thirty minutes left. Should I continue or not?" The pole dancer asks me.

"What's your name?"

She smiles. Happy to be finally acknowledged. "Black Widow!"

"Because you're a red head?" I cock a brow at her, picking my stuff from the couch to call it quits with this club.

"No?" She frowns. "Because I wear black and I'm a widow."

I pause. "Oh."

"Yeah, I thought that was obvious?" She plays with the ends of her red locks.

"I guess, I'm just not creative enough." I take out a wad of cash from my wallet and offer it to her.

She snatches it out my hand giddily. "Thank you!"

"You dance well." I walk towards the door.

"You didn't even watch it." She comments, busy counting the cash in her hands.

"You're earning well, yes?" I hold the door open and look over my shoulder. She meets my eyes and nods. "That means you dance well."

The smile on her face fades and she looks slightly flustered, a little vulnerable, but grateful. "Thank you." She gives me a wobbly smile. "Your wife is lucky."

"How I wish she felt the same." I step out and close the door, gesturing Amir to start walking.

He clears my path so I can walk without being bothered by uninvited touching. I step outside the club and wait until he brings my car around. Then he drives me home while I rest in the backseat.

"Can we drive around for a while, Amir?" I ask, my eyes closed to the winds blowing from the open windows.

"Sure, sir."

I'm not looking forward to going home. My bedroom will be empty as usual. Considering Yuvraaj didn't pounce on me in the club, Taranya haven't told him the truth yet. But I know she'll tomorrow. I regret spewing all that nonsense. What was I thinking giving her a choice now? Yeah, I feel better about myself, but the mess I'll have to clean if she does reveal the truth will be far worse than being married to her because of a contract. I fucked up. I know.

Will her brothers forgive me if I go down on my knees and beg for forgiveness?

I wince.

Where's your self respect, Shourya?

"Take me home, Amir."

It's better to go home and distract myself using work than to go on a long drive with my boring bodyguard and overthinking everything.

"Yes, sir." He picks up the speed and drives faster.

An hour later, I'm stepping out of the car, regretting it a moment later when I see Niharika coming out of the garden. Her eyes find me and I curb the urge to slide back into my car and slam the door close on her face. I hate this woman to the point I'd bend backward until my spine breaks just to avoid looking at her face.

"You're late, Shourya." She approaches me.

"I wonder why." I mutter sarcastically. "Why are you not at the hotel?" I grab my briefcase and phone from inside before closing the door shut.

"I found a few bugs in my suite. They're doing pest control. So, your grandfather offered me to sleep in one of the guest rooms tonight."

"There was no other suite available?" I walk inside the palace and she follows me.

"No. All of them are booked."

And you couldn't have adjusted in one of the normal rooms?

"Alright, see you tomorrow. Good night." I climb the first stair.

"I haven't had dinner yet. I'm sure you didn't either. Should we eat something?"

I clench the wooden railing.

"Press one on your intercom. They'll connect you with the kitchen staff. You can order for yourself anything. You'll be served in an hour or so." I inform.

"I know, Shourya. But I was hoping for a company."

"I'm tired, Niharika -"

"Please. It's so weird here. I'm a little uncomfortable." She purses her lips together.

I exhale a deep breath. "Give me some time. I'll be downstairs after I freshen up."

"Great!" She claps her hand. "I'll wait for you in the dining hall." Then she walks off with light steps.

Frustrated, I drag myself upstairs and dump my things on the bed before walking to the closet. On the way, I get rid of my tie and shirt. After changing into loose sweats and a black hoodie, I wash my feet, face and hands, and wipe myself dry with a towel. Putting my phone on charging, I head back downstairs.

The food is already served.

She smiles up at me when I enter. I force one back.

I've to do something about this woman. Her father has already ruined my plans by revealing my lies in front of Taranya. What's worse than can happen? The Chairman marrying me off to her after Taranya divorces me. Yeah, no, that's worst.

"I don't know what you like, but I assumed a few dishes and asked the cooks to prepare them. Here, try them out." She starts serving me.

I sigh.

That means she was deadset on having dinner with me tonight. An opportunist.

"That's enough. Thank you." I stop her from adding another roti to my plate. She settles down and serves herself. I sit through the long dinner and her painful chatter for more than an hour.

After returning to my bedroom, I remove my lens and wash my face in the bathroom. I sit down at my desk to get some work done. And don't realise when I fall asleep in the chair. The next morning, I wake up to the shrill sound of an alarm clock. My bones crack and muscles scream in protest as I sit straight and stretch my limbs.

Taranya doesn't return home.

"Is your wife staying another day at the Veer Mahal?" The Chairman asks me at the dining table during breakfast hours.

I glance towards Virendra and Niharika. They've stopped eating to pay me attention. "I guess, yeah."

"Are you not sure?" He frowns.

I swallow. "She was telling me she might stay another day. She was unsure herself. Maybe she changed her mind this morning?"

"Okay, but make sure she returns home tomorrow morning. Our daughters-in-law don't stay away from their home for so long."

"Yes, dadu. I'll tell her."

He dismisses the built up tension by bringing business related inquiries on the table. I heave a breath of relief.

But that's only the beginning of my troubles. I fail to concentrate at work. Every time the door of my office opens, I tense up thinking it's one of the Chauhan brothers. Though that's not possible. I've stationed Amir right outside my office. He'll let me know if that happens.

Calling Taranya crosses my mind more than often. I wish she breaks the silence and tells me upfront that she's telling the truth behind our marriage to her family. So that I can be prepared for the consequences.

The thought of losing her bothers me. Which is funny. Because I barely ever had her in the first place.

As the day's end creeps in closer, I dread going back home. So I do what any man will do in my condition. I hit the club again. This time a decent one.

I leave the bar inebriated. I stumble after every step. And the world spins so much the floor feels unstable underneath my feet. Amir helps me to the car. He also buckles me to the seat. And then drives me back home.

He attempts to assist me inside the palace. I deny the help. I can walk on my way. I'd just stumble a little.

I trip.

And I lose my wedding ring somewhere on the stairs. "Fuck," I drop to my knees, my hands patting the carpeted stairs, searching for the cold metal. The lights are low. And I can barely see. I'm also sleepy. But I can't give up on the wedding ring.

Accidentally, my hand hits a smooth flesh of someone's bare leg. I squint my eyes and look closer, wrapping my hand around the petite ankle before tilting my chin to look at the owner of those beautiful legs.

Bright blue eyes stare down at me.

My lips fall apart with a soft gasp.

"Looking for this?" She holds my ring pinched in her thumb and index finger.

I nod dumbly.

A smirk appears on her plump lips. "You look so beautiful on your knees."

"Do I?" The expanse of my hand slowly trails up her bare leg, and settles on the back of her knee. She shivers. "How else do you think I look beautiful? In what position do you think I'm fit to be yours?"

She swats my hand away with a shake of her leg and crouches to my height on the stairs. "You're drunk." It's a statement.

I smile. "I am. And so help me figure out. Are you real or are you a dream?"

"Find out yourself." She challenges.

The next of my actions are pure instinct, driven by desperation and raging lust. I drag her with the ankle. She yelps in surprise as her butt hits the stair. And soon she gasps when my lips come crashing down on hers. I place my hand on the stair above, align her face beneath mine to kiss her better, and elicit a little whimper out of her delicious mouth. Her knee nudges me in the stomach. I snap it straight and throw it around my waist, yanking her close until our cores touch. She gasps louder.

Shit. It's real.

Before I can reverse my mistake, I feel the reciprocal of my actions. Her lips open up, and she cups the base of my neck, dragging me down until our chests brush.

Definitely, a dream.

So, I pin her hands above her head and kiss back harder. She moans. She moans the sweetest. It gets me hard. The friction of our lower bodies makes her throw her head back. I groan softly, her knee grinds against my throbbing length. The fact we're out in open, in the middle of the staircase, easily spotted or discovered, turns me on even more. I thrust my tongue inside her mouth, nibbling, biting, licking those sinfully gorgeous lips until they're swollen, red and shiny.

"That's enough." She pushes me back abruptly.

"But not fair." I dip low to place a heavy kiss on her lips. "You can't control my dreams." I bury my face in the crook of her neck.

"Anyone can see us here. And you're drunk." She pushes me away and slips out of my arms. I give up.

I sit on the stair, holding my throbbing head in my hands. The dream version of her grabs my arm, before I'm dragged upstairs, and then pushed on something soft. My head hits a fluffy pillow. I tread past the state of semiconsciousness. My lips sated. My dick obviously not.

I want to be Taranya's world, and the sun around which it revolves, and the galaxy in which it exists, and the universe where it never ends.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Don't forget to vote and comment. Makes my day.