"The moment we want to believe something, we suddenly see all the arguments for it, and become blind to the arguments against it."
~ George Bernard Shaw
•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••
"BRRRIIIING!" "BRRRIIIING!"
I roll my eyes seeing the caller ID.
Mr.Remington P-096/24
"Coming. Give me a minute!", I reply in a calm tone.
"It's the tenth time you are repeating the same sentence, Samaira", I can tell that he is beyond frustrated now, which only satisifies the tiny-evil demons that are happily dancing in my mind.
"Tsk....tsk........,stop gritting your teeth, dear husband". I make a tsking sound.
Balancing my phone between my shoulder blade and ear, I finish clasping the necklace around my neck and continue in a mocking tone,"We don't want your sparkling colgate tooths to come out of their sockets now. Do we?", I ask genuinely concerned.
There is a complete silence on the other side of the line except for his harsh breathing before he continues in a calm, A very calm tone.
"Don't play this mind games with me, Samaira"
"Games?", I gasp genuinely shocked. "Sorry to tell you this Mr.Remington. But I'm too busy to play games with you. My lovely husband is taking me out for an event today".
"You are making it difficult for yourself Samaira", he releases a harsh breath before his tone turns authoritative.
"Two minutes. I will wait exactly for one eighty seconds", he growls angrily. "If you are not downstairs, infront of my fucking eyes, then my bodyguards will gladly do their jobs",
"Are you trying to threaten me?"
"Ten seconds have passed", I can imagine his arrogant face from here "Hope you can make it here in time". He presses on the last words.
In time.
That he expects me infront of him within 120 seconds. No......now within 110 seconds.
My eyes widen at the subtle hint of warning held in his calm tone.
Do I want to annoy him further?
Hell yes!
But I'm sensible enough to pick my battles.
But not now!
Now isn't the right time.
Though the tiny devils in my head, urges me to test my husband's patience limits, I can't do that.
Not when he is enough pissed to go through with his threatenings.
I'm not ready to become laughing stock infront of all his staff. I have irritated him enough from past three hours. And moreover he is yet to receive his final blow.

I smirk scanning my outfit in satisfaction. Though I'm not a great fan of sarees, just to spite him I decided to go with a shimmering black sequin saree and accessoried it with a crystal long-drop dangling earrings and completed it with a nude look.
I eye the stunning pearl-studded evening gown that he ordered me to wear with fake pity.
Sorry, darling. Maybe next time I will give you a chance to go out with me.
My gaze unconsciously drifts towards the familiar piece of chain that's accentuating my bare neck and my nerves tingle, almost making my legs wobbly.
I don't know why I decided to wear this!
I snap out of my thoughts hearing the blaring of horns from downstairs.
Holy mosses!!
Just forty seconds are left. I grab my low heeled mules and run downstairs in barefoot.
As I make it to the front gate of the mansion I notice Nick's tensed frame nearby a car, clutching a phone to his ear and barking orders at someone. He doesn't notice me until I clear my throat.
"I guess I didn't make you to wait long. Dear husband", I whisper sarcastically standing behind him.
He turns back at a lightening speed making me to take a step back instinctly clutching my chest in horror. I saw a flash of fire in his gray eyes as his gaze met mine.
His tall frame was covered with a tuxedo and he looked sinfully handsome as always.
His eyes register shock for a moment before they turned into frost. His shoulders tense and his clutch on his phone tightens as his gaze wanders down my body.
Oww! Volcano Is brewing. In no time it's gonna erupt.
1..
2..
3..
Boom!!!
"What the fuck are you wearing?".
Holy goodness!!!!
What a soothing, great, sweet feeling.
My lips twitch up in a smirk but I act as if I'm genuinely offended.
"You don't know?", I fake a gasp with widened eyes. "It's called saree, dear husband". I continue irking him further. "I can spell it out for you, it's saree. S.A.R.E.E..common now repeat it with me S.A.R.......
"Enough!!!!", his loud voice booms in through the evening sky as my heart rate increases sensing the storm that I have called upon myself.
He closes his eyes clasping and unclasping his fists trying to control his anger. His breathing is harsh and eyes appear red-shot when he finally opens them, boring his gaze through mine.
"Ok", he exhales. "Ok. Let's do this as per your wish. You are among those who considers it a holy water, only if it falls from a conch", with that he turns his back towards me and literally snatches the keys from his kind-driver ordering him to take a leave as he will be driving today.
I stand their unable to understand the meaning behind his words.
Why did he quote a quote just now?
Without pondering much on his words I drag my feet towards the back seat and make myself comfortable. I smile smugly at his frustrated face through the rear mirror.
His jaw ticks before he starts honking non-stop like a five year kid almost making my eardrums blast. I glare at him but sit rooted to my seat glaring at his face but the honking only increases as a new wave of headache hits me.
I throw a final disapproving glare at him and without thinking much I g9et out of his car and enter through the front door and slam it shut making the entire car shake with the force.
I'm breathing heavily by this time and my gaze snaps towards the driver seat where my arrogant husband is trying to control the twitching of his lips.
"It will be my great pleasure if you move the wheels of your chariot now, my highness", the sharpness in my voice appeared like the edges of a knife which could be used to cut out a centuries old rock.
"Ofcourse mam", his eyes twinkled before he took off the vehicle onto the busy streets of California.
As soon as we arrived at the said location, Nick slid his muscular arms around my waist dragging me towards his warm embrace. I didn't remove his hands realizing it was a futile attempt and that's what people expect given that we are officially wedded couple.
By the time we were done with the security check ups, a group of business men in designer suits came staggering towards us and greeted my husband in professional, formal tone.
As their gaze rested on me, their eyes crinkled in confusion but they were quick to mask that and they welcomed me in the same crisp, curt tone.
They escorted us inside the banquet hall. My breathing hitched as my gaze slid over the hall filled with people wearing black and white outfits.
But that's not what made my steps halt.
It was the realization that, this was color themed party. And every woman were wearing white cocktail dresses and men with black.
What the fuck?
My body tensed sensing everyone's gaze was now resting on us, as we were standing on the entrance. Did he do this intentionally? He could have atleast told me that this was a white themed party.
I have to bear all these weird judgemental stares now.
I huffed out. Whatever I'm not going to accept defeat infront of this arrogant jerk. He wanted to see me making a fool out of myself? But no. I'm not letting him have that satisfaction.
Whatever the situation might be, I'm Samaira Deshmukh. I'm gonna walk with my head held straight.
With that I rolled by shoulders back and put on my most charming big-fake smile, as I turned towards my husband grinning.
"Let's not make our hosts wait now. Let's go inside", I said sliding my hands in his.
For a moment he was taken aback by my non-chalance towards the situation but it only lasted for a mere second before amusement twinkled in his eyes and he tightened his grip around my palm as we walked inside greeting hundreds of men.
"Mr. Remington. Finally you made it", a middle aged couple around fifty years greeted us with a warm welcoming smile.
"Mr and Mrs. Cavelli", Nick acknowledged them in his usual business tone but there was a soft undertone to his usual dominant ones which was enough for me to understand that these are important people to him and mainly he respects them.
"And if we aren't wrong, we assume this beautiful lady beside you as your newly wedded wife", the stunning lady smiled towards me with warmth.
"Yes. This is my...
"Nice to meet you both Mr and Mrs Cavalli", I offered my hand in greeting. "And Yes. I'm Samaira Deshmukh. His wife", I gestured towards Nick who only tightened his grip on my waist hearing me introduce myself as a Deshmukh.
Take that you arrogant asshole.
I raised my head and stared directly into his unyielding gaze questioning him through my gaze.
What?
If the couple infront of us observed my intentional dropping out of his last name and this silent war between us they didn't question us rather they had this amusing looks on their face.
We continued speaking for another ten minutes and they kept asking on our impending reception which our family planned to have shortly.
Mrs. Cavalli, Kate, as she insisted me to call her, whisked me away to introduce me to her other lady friends who were all surprisingly genuine and warm just like her.
Nearly an hour passed and I didn't quite notice the time as I was engrossed in their discussion. They were all smart people interested in medical and technological fields and I was rather enjoying the informative talk.
My gaze unconsciously drifted across the grand majestic hall and they finally rested upon the person who I was searching.
He was surrounded by Mr. Cavalli and two other men dressed in suit and he was quite focused on the discussion. His shoulders set straight, a crease between his eyebrows, analyzing the pros and cons of whatever deal they were discussing of.
I leaned against the table with crossed arms and my gaze slid over his perfectly sculpted face. His long lean fingers were clasping around the champagne glass as he lifted it towards his sinful lips to take a sip as he nodded at something the other person said.
With his tight fitting tailored tuxedo hugging his perfect features he appeared no less than a model appearing on Gentlemen's Quarterly magazines.
Adding onto his physical perfection he just has the right amount of elegance and sophistication to his personality that balances and brings out the sober yet eye-catching image of him, ie.... rather difficult to ignore in a person.
All thanks to Remington genes.
I'm completely dazed observing him, while suddenly his lips stops just an inch away from the glass as if feeling someone's gaze on him.
This is the moment. This is the moment I have to divert my gaze and act like I was not literally surveying every part of his body like a creep.
Common Sam. Look away.
Look away before he catches you red-handed.
My breath quickens, but no...I don't turn away from him. I don't want to. But rather I continue staring at him. Waiting.
Waiting to take a look at his stormy gaze.
He waits for a moment.
Two
Three.
As if he is giving me time to look away.
And finally he lifts his head. His gaze directly connecting with mine without straying anywhere. As if he knew from all the time that I was standing here. That he can sense my stare on him even from miles away.
His gaze momentarily slides down my face and lands on my neck. Particularly on the thing around my neck. His eyes twitches and he slowly ever so slowly slides up his gaze to finally connect with my eyes.
This time his face doesn't have any smugness or his usual arrogance. His eyes holds that calm and serene look in which he is urging me to dive into it and he can offer me the safeness, the emotional support which I craved for my whole life. As if he is offering me the safe-haven on which I can rely.
No...no...
How can I think like that? How can I imagine all this idiotic things?
Break that eye contact Sam. Divert your eyes away from him.
You know what's happening to you scientifically. It's not that he is telling you all this. You are imagining all those silly things.
You know phenylethylamine is being produced in your body right now due to the long minutes of eye-contact.
Break that eye contact and put a full stop to all this nonsense feelings.
But no.
I don't blink. Afraid that this moment will come to stop as soon as I do that. My eyes turns misty as tears of frustration well up in my eyes.
Why God? Just why I can't?...more particularly, I don't want to control my mind when it comes to this person?
Who is he?
He is just a Mr.Remington P-096/24
He is just a Project number 096 signed in the year 2024.
He is just my 3 months project.
I hastily rub away the angry tear that has rolled down my cheek before anyone can notice and finally tear my eyes away from his magnetic ones.
"Samaira, my child are you okay?", Kate slightly touches my arm as if she is touching a brittle glass.
"Yes. I'm okay", I smile at her assuringly and as if my eyes has mind of their own ,they turn in the same direction where Nick was standing previously.
This time he is not alone. There is a woman standing by his side. I just stare at them for few seconds. He has his fingers wrapped around the same wine glass and his gaze boring the carpeted floor and the women- who appears like a whole snobbish businesswoman is standing beside him. Too close to my comfort. He is smiling at whatever shit she is explaining. But there is neither that usual twinkle in his eyes nor that charming facade that he uses during his manipulation. To turn any situations to his favor.
He just appears to be in a trance, in a half-hypnotized, half-conscious state. Where his mind appears to be lost elsewhere. To the place where he don't wish to visit.
As these thoughts run into my mind. My heart halts a beat......
Silence.
Absolute. Complete. Total. Utter silence.
As the realization of the size of the bricks hit my head, my heart starts beating again.
Thump..
Thump..
Thump...
How the fuck? How the freaking fuck I am able to read a person's face. Not any other person, but Nicholas? The same Nicholas Remington, I swore off to hate. The same manipulative bastard who bound me in a forced-marriage.
Is it possible to read into the mind, the emotions of a person whom you barely know for a month?
My answer would be a big NO. If the same question was asked before a month. But now?
No...no.... I don't want an answer for this question.
Stop it...stop your thoughts before they take an unreturnable turn. Stop it before you fall into the dark abyss from where you can't return.
To stop my unconqerable, unstoppable thoughts I diverted my attention and dragged my feets towards the bar counter.
"One glass of blueberry- - -", suddenly I was hit by the same scenarios from not so long ago.
"Can I get a blueberry lemonade please"
"Look, what a sexy-piece we have here".
"Ah, fiesty. I like you this way better Sam".
"We will see that, Samaira. Shortly. Very shortly".
A sudden gasp escapes my throat and the waiter eyes me curiously.
"Sorry. But I didn't quite get the name of the drink you mentioned", he smiles politely.
"Just get me a glass of water, please", I reply. Suddenly a feeling of running away from this place hits me.
My hand trembles as I clutch the glass in my hand. My thoughts race back to that dreadful day.
Party..
Jason..
His threatening..
Juice..
Feeling dizzy..
Somebody catching me......
No. I don't want to drink this. What if it is drugged, just like that day.
Drugged....
Now the pieces perfectly fits into the puzzle. I acknowledge the thing that I stubbornly chose not to come in terms with.
Even if I try to refuse the truth, the truth always remain the same.
Jason.....
The sole reason of my endless nights of nightmares and terrors.
Jason...
The father of my.....
No....no....I don't want to put his name in the same sentence as my child's.
"Are you alright?", I jerk my eyes away from the glass only to stare into the concerned gray eyes. Nick has his one arm around my shoulder and he gently pulls out the glass away from my hold and replace it with the one with my favorite blueberry lemonade.
"You can drink this", he says not taking away his eyes for a minute.
Why are you doing this Nick?
Why are you acting like you can understand my inner turmoils even without me voicing them out to you?
I gulp down the liquid in one go. Not even once the thoughts of distrust or wariness crosses over my mind on the glass of juice he handed over to me.
Have I started to trust him?
■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■
Ok, this is absolutely not me being hopeless.......but I'm really lost now...
Nobody are commenting their opinion on the story...I'm really feeling unmotivated*( huh, if that word exist).
Pls comment ur opinions. There r almost 800 views but only 5 comments...at this point I'm really feeling motiveless to continue writing another chapter.
I don't particularly care about the votes, but please share your views on the characters and chapter.......
Bcoz, it's just that....I feel like someone is genuinely reading and liking my book...
Write a comment ...