"If I am the phantom, it is because man's hatred has made me so. If I am to be saved it is because your love redeems me."
-Gaston Leroux
The weeks following Ronobir's recovery were extremely hectic for Mishti; her semester was coming to an end, so she had to throw herself into projects and exams with energy, added to that was the pressure of Shruti and Rishabh's wedding preparations, for which Mishti was constantly dragged around the entire city by her perfectionist friend, for any and everything wedding related. A pang of sadness hit her every time she watched her enthusiastic friend getting excited about the preparations, whether it be a new flavor of cake or the perfect flowers, or the place cards, the bride-to-be was so excited about her wedding that Mishti wished she could have been as passionate as Shruti when she had got married to Ronobir. She couldn't help but feel cheated at the turn of events that led to her arranged marriage.
After a lot of convincing on their part, they finally managed to convince Ronobir to let them out of the house, as he had forbidden any of them to step out because of the impending Kamali threat. Since weeks had passed without any incidents or sightings of them, he agreed to let them roam the streets of New York City, albeit with Sikander constantly breathing down their necks; although by now Mishti was realizing that he was a pretty funny guy and she didn't mind his company.
Shruti took her to all the tourist places in New York; they took a cruise on the bay, walked through Times Square, went to the top of the Empire State building, and got lost in Central Park. Mishti was falling madly in love with the city, she was sure that there was nothing more magical than New York in winter.
She was enjoying every minute spent in this spectacular city with its architectural treasures, outdoor cafés, rooftop bars, beautiful parks, vibrant fashion scenes, atmospheric booksellers, and curio shops. NYC's livewire energy delighted her and she felt like she could lose herself in the myriad experiences that overwhelmed her senses; the unique flavors of Chinatown with its brightly painted Buddhist temples, ornate pagodas, its numerous stands selling exotic foods, Canal Street with its various jewelry stores and gift shops, the many restaurants and pushy hawkers of Little Italy. Every neighborhood offered its unique version of the city, molded by the people living there, whose backstories and ethnic traditions lent their unique romance to the city. From the affluent and culturally rich neighborhoods of the Upper West Side to the bohemian vibe of the Greenwich Village, she loved walking in New York.
She was slowly adjusting to the city and synchronizing with its rhythm but her husband remained the biggest contradiction in Mishti's life. After his near-death experience, which she was guessing wasn't the first and neither would it be the last, he had changed towards her. No, he hadn't turned into a Romeo sweeping her off her feet every chance he got, but he was sweeter than before, she no longer saw the frozen mask that he hid behind make an appearance as frequently as before, in fact, they had been spending a lot of quality time together.
They had returned to the pizzeria owned by Sikander's family a couple of times, he had taken her to Broadway, they went to the movies a lot and she had even managed to convince him to go ice skating with her in Rockefeller Center.
There was nothing she liked more than to watch him smile, in those moments he reminded her of the guy she had met at her party and not the callous man she had been forced to marry. Ronobir could be quite charming when he wanted to be and was slowly but surely and perhaps without realizing it, carving a spot deep inside her heart.
But then there were moments when he pulled back from her, it was almost like whenever he caught himself having fun and enjoying himself with her he would suddenly retreat and the cold mask would reappear on his face. It confused the shit out of Mishti, his moods changed so fast that she was surprised they hadn't given her a whiplash yet. He was the most mercurial person she had ever met and the constant to and fro was wearing her down a bit.
At times he could be the sweetest person; like a few days ago, he found her watching Project Runway and babbling about what she would do if she had a workshop like that, and two days later Mishti woke to find one of the rooms filled with rows and rows of fabric, a brand new sewing machine, mannequins, pads, color pencils and every single thing a designer might need. She had felt a warm tenderness spreading through her body and curling around her heart in a sweet embrace; because this was different from the gifts of jewelry and clothes he usually bought her, this was not an attempt to bribe her this was his endeavor to gift her her innermost precious dream.
But then there were the occasions when he acted like a total jerk, a controlling bastard and they would end up screaming at each other until their throats were raw. He was two very different people at once and what scared Mishti the most was that she was starting to crave the company of both of them. She liked the sweet, thoughtful guy that resurfaced once in a while but she also liked the dark monster that made an occasional appearance. He excited her but not in a way that scared her, she knew now that he would never hurt her.
Ronobir was passion personified and the darkness inside of him beckoned to her, calling her in to explore, tantalizing her so much that she wondered if she was losing her mind as sometimes she wanted to be swallowed whole by that darkness. Consumed!
They were currently getting ready to go to a fancy cocktail party with Ronobir's associates connected with his restaurant business and not the mafia world. It was the first time they were going somewhere, where she would be meeting people who weren't his direct family and she was feeling a little nervous about it.
"You look beautiful!" he said as he watched her inspecting herself critically in the floor-length mirror. She was wearing a tight lacy black dress with a low neckline that for some reason reminded her of the one Julia Roberts wore in 'Pretty Woman'.
"Thank you!" she smiled warmly before running her fingers through her hair to give it a messy look. "I'm all ready."
"Give me a second," he said, taking a tie out of his drawer and placing it around his neck. Mishti walked towards him and took the piece of clothing between her hands, fixing it herself. "You should have worn one of yours," he said gesturing towards her dress while her hands were busy tying the knot in his tie.
"Please, I wouldn't want to make a fool of myself," she said with a smile.
"Sorry? I've seen what you can do with a piece of fabric Mishti, you're very talented," her cheeks turned a shade of pink at his words. "You could start a business with that. I could help you."
Mishti sighed as she finished with his tie and stepped away a few centimeters, "I don't like that idea." It reminded her of the time her father had offered to buy her a boutique. Making clothes was something she loved, it was something that belonged only to her and she didn't want it to be something handed to her on a silver platter.
"Why not?"
"I want it to be mine," she answered while looking straight into his eyes, and he nodded in understanding.
"No help then," he murmured. "You can start something online, Rishabh could help you with that, he's kind of a computer genius." A hint of mockery could be heard in his voice, "That way it would be yours, starting from zero but showing the world what you can do."
Mishti regarded him thoughtfully as he took a jacket from the closet and put it on, it was something she hadn't thought about before but that sounded like a great idea. "Have you been watching Netflix lately?" she asked in a teasing tone remembering the time she came into the room and found him watching Britt Robertson's show.
He fought back a smile as he answered, "No!"
"It could work!"
"Yes it could!" he offered her his arm and she took it as they walked out of the room.
The party was in a very swanky hotel and before entering Ronobir whispered a warning in her ear, "Don't let anything they say get to you, it's a den of wolves inside."
Mishti had no clue what he was talking about, but after only a few minutes of being there and seeing every damn woman throw herself at her husband, she got a pretty good idea of what he had been referring to.
It amazed Mishti, the impact Ronobir had on people, not just women but men as well. He was their king and they all wanted to bow to him. He walked with his head held high and his eyes fierce, power oozed out of him, and his commanding stride made every eye in the room turn to him, no doubt was the dominant alpha in that room and they all seemed to accept it.
Ronobir was right, Mishti had to hear more than one sugarcoated ill-intentioned comment directed toward her throughout the night, but she knew how to handle them. After all, she had grown up in Mumbai's high society, and with no less than Pari as her sister; there was nothing and no one she couldn't take on.
He barely let her out of his sight; his hand always remained constant on her lower back, letting her know he was next to her. He introduced her to people, charmed the guests, drank, laughed, and made merry. He was playing a part, Mishti realized after a few moments, one of the many masks her husband wore so effortlessly.
She wondered briefly if it was a survival strategy; if he had so many masks people would never know which one was the real one and if you don't know the real man, you can never know his weakness, therefore you can never defeat him. But would he know which one was the real one himself? Or were they all the real ones somehow? Or had he forgotten what was real and did he need it or miss it? So many questions and none that she had any answers for!
Mishti still couldn't help flinching a little whenever she was introduced as Mishti Chatterjee; it was hard for her to think that this was who she was now; the wife of the most powerful man in the country.
At some point during the night, Ronobir's humor started to change and he tensed, Mishti was so attuned to his moods that she recognized it at once, he took her hand and made a quick round of goodbyes before they walked out of the hotel. He didn't say a word to her as they walked towards the car where the driver was waiting for them.
Once inside, Ronobir put the privacy screen up and exhaled loudly as he removed the tie from his neck and popped open the top buttons of his shirt, "There's only so much of that I could take."
"What do you mean?" Mishti asked with a frown as she watched him run his hand through his perfectly styled hair, leaving a mess in its wake.
"Everybody in there wanted something from me," he murmured sounding frustrated and aggravated, his expressions exposing a very rare openness, "I'm not who they think they are. Being someone else can be very tiring darling."
"I understand," she said with a small empathetic nod.
"I don't think you do," he turned his head slightly and smiled sadly at her. "You are genuine, so transparent," he stretched his hand and caressed her cheeks, her eyes closing involuntarily at the feel of his skin against hers.
"...Ronobir!" his name came out of her lips like a breathless whisper as she felt a familiar tingle electrify her senses, she just couldn't help her body's immediate reaction to his touch.
"You made me lose my mind," he murmured absently before taking her in his arms and dragging her on top of his body until she was straddling him, her legs open, on either side of him. "I saw the way every man was looking at you tonight," his stormy brown eyes burned with desire and a hint of jealous rage as he looked at her. "They all wanted to be me but they can't have you or touch you. You are only mine, baby, only mine."
His hand hitched her dress up until they exposed her black lacy panties to his eyes, "So irresistible honey," he breathed out as his fingers skimmed through the fabric of her underwear, his eyes darkening with desire.
Mishti threw her head back when she felt him touching her "Irresistible." He kept murmuring incoherently as his mouth found her breasts and he started sucking and biting through the soft material of her dress, driving her crazy with wanton need. She craved his touch fervently, as longing for him coursed rampant through her entire body.
"...Fuck Ronobir," she moaned uncontrollably as she started rocking on top of him, desperate to create friction, she could feel how hard he was and there was nothing she wanted more than to feel him deep inside of her. She had no idea why he hadn't taken her yet despite knowing that at this point she would not resist him, could not resist him, she wanted him like she had not wanted anything before.
"Come here!" he murmured as he lifted his head and dragged her face towards him, their lips touched and an inferno unleashed inside her. He took hold of her hips and started moving her on top of him, her panty-clad pussy rubbing shamelessly against his clothed erection as their tongues fought against each other ardently. " La tua bocca mi fa impazzire (Your mouth drives me crazy)," he murmured against her lips sounding as frenzied as she was feeling, and Mishti could feel the tale-tell tingle of her imminent orgasm. Ronobir completely forgot English when he was aroused and out of control and there was nothing that turned on Mishti more than his speaking in Italian. "Bellisima!" (Beautiful) he whispered before his teeth bit into her lip and her orgasm crashed through her.
"Ronobir...!" she shouted, not giving a damn that the driver could hear the sounds of their passionate make-out session and probably had a good idea of what they had been doing.
They kissed for what felt like hours, and as her orgasm subsided, a wet sound filled the cramped space of the car as she lay on top of him. Their lips played lazily with each other, their breathing heavy as they panted against each other. His hand moved up and down her back, caressing her gently and she felt the heaviness of sleep threatening to overtake her. "Rest darling," he whispered against her lips, "Rest!" He gave her one last kiss before moving her so she could snuggle more comfortably against him, her head finding the crook of his neck as he placed his chin on top of her head and kept rubbing her back lovingly.
"Sei il mio angelo manna dal cielo (You are my godsend angel)," he whispered and felt her smile against the skin of his neck, he was sure she had no idea what he had just said but she always liked it when he spoke to her in Italian, the thought brought a smile to his lips.
When they arrived at the house, Mishti was fast asleep, so he carried her in his arms to their bedroom. She did not even stir a bit, if there was something Ronobir admired about her, it was how deeply she could sleep.
He placed her gently on the bed and covered her body with the comforter, before stroking her cheek gently and staring at her for a few seconds, it always amazed him how beautiful she looked while she slept.
Ronobir left the room and headed towards his home office to have a brief meeting with Rishabh and Rudra; the Kamali was still hidden and that troubled him, it wasn't like Salim to hold onto his temper for so long.
"Updates?" Ronobir asked as he walked inside to find Rishabh and Rudra already sitting there.
"He was supposedly spotted in Vegas but we have no idea if the source can be trusted or not," Rudra said grimly while Ronobir took a seat behind the desk.
"A whisper is all we need," Ronobir answered as he leaned back on his chair. "He's in the country then!"
"We killed his brother Ronobir, I didn't expect him to stay in Russia for long," Rudra said worriedly.
Ronobir nodded as his eyes focused at some far point in the distance, "That's why it had me so worried, it's not normal for him to stay quiet for so long especially not after losing one of his own." He took a deep breath, a frown appearing on his forehead as he thought about what this development could mean, "What about Ankush, Rishabh? Did he talk as yet?"
His brother looked around the room, nervous for a few moments, "No, he hasn't said a word." Ric and Ronobir exchanged a worried look as Ronobir propped his elbows on the table and looked at his brother straight in the eye, "Rishabh... we can have Sikander do the questioning if you like." Rudra nodded alongside his boss, even though they both knew it was something out of the ordinary to allow that.
Rishabh was Ronobir's underboss if something happened to Ronobir the entire organization would be his responsibility, but both Ronobir and Rudra knew that Rishabh had too much of a compassionate heart to mete out a brutal questioning session. Udayveer had never allowed either Rishabh or Ronobir the freedom to choose whether they wanted to be a part of this business or not, but Rishabh tried his utmost to do what was expected of him because he always wanted to make his father happy.
Ronobir wanted to give his brother a way out but knew that in their line of work, it was impossible and he also knew that Rishabh wouldn't accept it; he was a proud man and family always came first. So instead Ronobir did all he could to protect him and preserve the part of his brother that was still pure.
"No, Ronobir I can do it!" Rishabh lifted his chin as his brown eyes looked resolutely at his brother.
"Rishabh..."
"I can get the job done Ronny!" he said without the barest hint of doubt. Rudra and Ronobir nodded once again before dropping the subject.
A few more words were exchanged before both men were excused and Ronobir headed once again to his bedroom. He took a long hot shower and then proceeded to watch his wife sleep.
He sat on the oversized, cream leather reclining chair in the corner of the room, a tumbler in his hand as he watched the rise and fall of his wife's chest as she slept peacefully between the covers. Her face was turned in his direction and a small smile graced her lips, he wondered what she was dreaming about.
She looked so angelical and innocent that Ronobir felt a twinge of guilt in his chest as he stared at her, this beautiful creature he had dragged into his darkness.
He still couldn't explain his actions regarding her; when he had seen her at that party three years ago all he knew was that he had to have her, there had been something in her that called to him, so he had cornered her father and offered everything he wanted in exchange for her hand in marriage. Ishaan had agreed immediately but Ronobir had decided to give her more time, she had just entered her twenties at the time and he wanted her to enjoy her freedom for a little while longer.
Why did he do that?
Neither Shruti nor Rishabh had been very keen on the idea of him forcing marriage onto the girl and had questioned his motives over and over again. Why? Why her? If Pari Khanna, a woman far more suited to his lifestyle, was falling all over herself to be his wife, why was it Mishti that he chose?
Ronobir still didn't know the answer to that question himself. All he knew was that he had wanted her and so he had got her, just like his father had taught him, to get what you want at all costs.
But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that once again his father had controlled his actions without him even knowing it. He had uprooted Mishti out of her life as if she was a doll that he wanted to play with. He realized that this act made him resemble the older man more than he liked, he felt disgusted with himself every time he thought too hard about it.
And then there was Mishti; he had dragged her out of her familiar world into his without an idea of consideration for what she wanted and yet she didn't hate him. No matter how much she claimed otherwise, Ronobir knew that she did not hate him. Why he wondered. She should hate him, and had all the right to, he had done nothing but show her what a monster he was.
Mishti was everything he wasn't; she was fun, light-hearted, smart, passionate about the things she loved and most of all she was forgiving, there was a kindness in her that he hadn't seen in anyone in their world before. In the course of the last couple of weeks, Ronobir had found himself being drawn irresistibly into her small little world.
He genuinely liked spending time with her, she surprised him with her excitement over the littlest of things, her stubbornness amused him, he appreciated her attempts to understand his business and talk about it, and her genuine and sincere effort to give him trusted advice.
Ronobir was beginning to have deep feelings for her, something stirred in his heart every time he looked at her, and he had spent more than one night doing exactly what he was doing at the moment, watching her sleep, dreading the moment when she would vanish in front of his eyes like a mirage.
He wanted her to love him, he wanted to be the center of her world and have her entire devotion centered on himself, he wanted to mean to her what he hadn't meant to anyone else before her.
Why? Why did he have to be such a brute to her then?
Why was it that every time he caught himself feeling tender towards her, worrying about her, wanting to do something to make her happy, he heard the harsh voice of his father in his head telling him it was a waste of time, he hadn't come into this world to love or be loved, he had come to kill, he had come to be a leader, and love would just make him weak.
Sometimes he worshiped the old man and sometimes he hated him. Ronobir knew that his father had broken something inside of him that he was never going to be able to fix completely but he had never resented him for it before, until she came into his life, or rather until he brought her into his life.
He wanted to be different from her, he wanted to be better because of her but that meant he couldn't be who he truly was. He was nothing but a monster and how could a monster be deserving of a heavenly creature like her? What was he supposed to do then?
He remembered the look on his mother's face when he had told her that Mishti was going to be his wife and what he had done to ensure it. He was a ruthless man and his mother was fully aware of his criminal ways but she had never looked at him with such disappointment in her eyes as she did when he had told her about Mishti. She had looked at him the way she always looked at Udayveer, Ronobir hated that look, it reminded him of how alike he and the old boss truly were.
"Ronobir...?" Mishti stirred and her sleepy eyes looked at him with confusion, "...What time is it?" she asked as she stretched her arms above her head, her tank top tightening around her full breasts.
His hungry eyes drank her in hungrily but he controlled the beast inside him, he was in a dark place and knew that if the beast came out he wouldn't be able to keep it at bay. "Late," he told her as he placed the tumbler in his hand back on the small table next to him. "You should go back to sleep."
"Yeah!" she murmured, half sleepy as she settled on her side, her long hair sprawled on the pillow. "Aren't you going to sleep yet?" her eyes were closing again so her words were a slurred sound.
"Yes, yes I am," he stood up and discarded his clothes as he walked towards the bed. Her breathing was evening out again and he knew it was a matter of minutes before she fell asleep again.
"I want to go home!" she murmured.
He froze mid-step, his heart coming to a standstill, "What?"
Her brown eyes opened once again, traces of sleep still present in them, "Mumma's birthday is coming, I want to be there."
He released a long breath shakily, relieved beyond measure that she didn't mean what he had thought she meant, before resuming his walk and finally reaching the bed. He climbed underneath the covers and like every night he curled himself behind her body, "I will take you home."
"You promise?" she asked, her eyes closing once again as she settled in the comfort of his embrace.
"Si caro (Yes darling), I promise!" he kissed her cheek and nuzzled her neck as her body drifted to sleep, a small smile adorning her lips again.
"Hai conquistato il mio cuore, tesoro (You have conquered my heart, sweetie)," he whispered against her skin but she could no longer hear him because she had given herself up to the world of the dream completely. "Penso che...io ti amo (I think ... I love you)."
He was a beast, a monster with no redeeming qualities but something in her made him want to be better, to be the kind of man she deserved to be with, the husband she wished for. For the first time in his thirty-two years, Ronobir Chatterjee wanted to be someone else.
The question was whether he was strong enough to fight the animal inside him.