A member of the mafia, Nawab, falls prey to the temptation of wooing a woman during a mission outside Mumbai. Under the identity of Manik Malhotra, he meets Nandini Murthy, a walking-talking panic button, and feels undeniable attraction for her.
Be...
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𓆩𓆪
Cabir dusted his palms together, taking a step back from the coffee table to look at the artifact. The article had been swaddled by bubble-wrap and bundles of newspapers and packaged inside a cardboard box neatly, with not a scratch grazing the gold lamp. They were going to gift it to the local temple and wash some of their illegally earned cash as a donation to the holy place.
Manik's reflection appeared on the TV screen. With a wide smirk, Cabir turned around to his friend who was seated above the shoe bench, one ankle over a knee as he untied his laces. The radiance on Manik's features denoted something beautiful had transpired over the last few hours and Cabir had been beyond happy for his friend until a stark realisation hit... it could not become anything more.
He headed in the direction of his friend, hoping to garner his attention but to no avail as Manik appeared lost in the task. Clearing his throat, Cabir leaned on the wall opposite to the bench. "Looks like someone is in need of protection," He uttered thoughtfully.
Manik's head flicked with a jerk, the joy replaced by a bonechilling numbness that spoke volumes of a turmoil bubbling beneath the surface over the last several years of his life. "I'm more than capable of protecting others. I don't need anyone to watch my back," He snapped uncharacteristically rudely.
Cabir panicked thinking he struck a wrong chord. "Hey hey, relax. That's not what I'm talking about." From the back of his pant pocket, he slipped out a small electric blue square and tossed it to his friend.
One night in their initial days of working together and they hadn't known each other well enough, Cabir had gotten lucky and being unprepared for the journey, he had stumbled into Manik's room, certain that the handsome man would have his fair share of a stash, and asked to borrow a condom. He had expected Manik to either judge him and reject or disappear into his room and return with his product, but what Cabir had not anticipated was for Manik to whip out his wallet, scan through it, flick a pouch at him and convey, "You owe me."
Ever since, it had been somewhat of an inside joke between the two that every time Manik got laid–at least to Cabir's knowledge–Cabir would replenish the stash for Manik... constantly owing him for the one night he saved his ass. Quite literally.
Manik's aggression dissipated and he half-chuckled at the packet, and tossed it back. "Too early,"
"Is this really you? You've spent a whole three hours with her, and you still think it's too early? You've had women in bed three minutes after you've met them."
It was true, someone like Manik hardly needed to try to get girls. If Manik swayed in that direction, Cabir himself would have hit on him... that was the kind of sex appeal Manik had, and if Nandini was still not flat by that, the girl had some commendable self-control.
