Ahanay thought it was maddening how stunning his wife looked in the silk dress that had slits in all the right places, exposing her creamy skin that he couldn't resist kissing, to feel her queer, little heartbeats that matched his own. A familiar voice snapped him out of his madness as he pulled away, turning around to meet Priya. "Congratulations, Ahanay, on your second child."

"Second child?" Naina burst out, pushing him away as her eyes flickered between them both, her clever mind quick to catch on the news.

"Didn't you know about Ahanay's first child?" Priya said, her voice still angelic, but her words devilish. It felt jarring to Ahanay's ears. For the first time in his life, he wanted her to stop, to be gone. "With me."

"Priya," Ahanay warned, swallowing the lump lodged in his throat. Why did she have to bring him up?

"Is this also a joke like my pregnancy?" Naina asked with a nervous laugh, her eyes trying hard to find some lie on their faces. "Just to clarify, I'm not pregnant with his second child or anyone's child."

"Why would you be pregnant with anyone's child?"

"Hello mister," Naina said spitefully, catching onto Ahanay's sudden jealousy at her hypothetical statement. "You have anyone's child, not me."

"I'm not anyone," Priya started, but both of them ignored her, their eyes locked into each other's. Sparkles of anger broke out in Naina's eyes as Ahanay studied her face, taken aback by the intense emotions that were on full display. For a moment that felt like an eternity, he could peep into her soul and see her nakedness. Her otherwise fierce self quivering with something that seemed a lot like . . . love?

"Come with me!" Priya stepped in between, crying out of desperation at what was unraveling before her. Ahanay had never looked at her the way he had been looking at Naina, his eyes as tender as the girl's eyes were wild. She was afraid of the impending doom- of the confusion melting away into a confession that would throw all of them out there, in the spotlight, naked. "Come!" Before Ahanay could speak, he found a hand wrapped around his arm and dragged onto the dance floor. "We're not getting a lot of time together these days."

His eyes were still locked into Naina's, watching her take a harsh swig of champagne from a distance. Suddenly, thin fingers gripped his chin, forcing him to look at the otherwise angelic face of his girlfriend's, now contorted like a cartoonish witch. A mellow, romantic orchestra played in the background, forcing him to glide down the floor with her as she wrapped her arms around him, swaying to the slow music.

"It's been so long," she said, sighing as she melted in his rigid arms. "We have got time to be alone like this."

Those arms that he had once found solace in, they felt like a noose, strangling him, preventing him from seeking the life of his life, Naina. He didn't know how he had arrived at this thought, all he knew was that he had to go to her, take her in his arms and sweep her across the dance floor till she burst into a fit of giggles. He longed to hear her laughter. Now, his feet could barely move, Priya was swaying him to the slow music like he was a rigid puppet.

Suddenly, the song "Zhingat" erupted through the speakers, breaking the strings of the puppet as they stopped dancing. Everyone around them looked equally baffled, their eyes turning to Ahanay. Priya stared aghast at Ahanay who only smiled in amusement, knowing who did this. From the corner of his eye, he saw a tiny, angry figure storming out of the hall, her hands balled into fists as if to box someone. Most likely, him. Immediately, Ahanay started towards her, but someone held him back by his arm.

"You can't go," Priya said, her eyes teary and desperate. "You love me. Remember how we were? You and she can never be that." Noticing how he seemed unfazed at her words, his thoughts still tied to someone else, she cried out, "We even had a child together, for God's sake!"

"Priya," Ahanay said, taking a sharp breath and closing his eyes. The room reverberated with the loud song, pumping into him a new vigor that he felt only around Naina. What was happening to him? How could such a silly song evoke in him the deepest passions, to want to hold the person he missed the most? Opening his eyes, he looked unwaveringly at Priya, that look scaring her. "We need to take a break."

"Why?"

"I cannot be faithful to you with her- her in my mind," he said, his voice trembling in confusion which was unlike him. Spotting a waiter, he motioned quickly to change the song. "I have to go now. I'm sorry, you deserve a better explanation. We will talk later."

Again, his arm was held back, but this time, her eyes weren't desperate, only cruel and ironical. "Do you think she has been faithful to you?"

"What do you mean?" Ahanay frowned, focusing on her again.

"I saw her leave with someone special just now. If you don't believe me, you can go straight and take a turn towards the right."

At those words, Ahanay strode ahead, his heart racing faster than the anger rushing in his blood. Priya rarely ever lied to him and if she did, he could always see through her. He knew that she was hiding something from him, what, he didn't bother to find out. But he knew she wasn't lying about this, he could see the truth in her eyes. Yet why, why did he want her to be lying now? Why did he care so much when it came to that little demon who found a way to rule his heart?

As he strode in the drawing room with his heart getting whipped by the demon's whims and flung the door open, he found the little demon herself with her hair disheveled and dress ripped apart, turning around and staring wide-eyed at him. Her pale, bare breasts shone under the moonlight as she scrambled to cover them with the torn silk, breathless and reckless. The window was open, letting in a cool breeze (and hardening her nipples) and taking in someone special who had just been here. He could see that someone special's presence in her large fearful eyes, on those little spots of red hickeys littered on her neck.

Without a second thought, he closed the gap between them, grabbing her throat with his thumb pressing hard against one of those hickeys. "Who?"

"Why do you care?" She hissed, her eyes glassy like two, murky ponds. Her one hand was clutching her dress, her other hand was holding his wrist, trying to free herself as he kept her pinned to the wall. He hated how her lips were swollen by someone else, how her heart had been stolen by someone else. "You were cheating on me all this while with that angel-like friend of yours."

"You don't know anything." His voice was devoid and empty of all the earlier emotions that had gripped his heart. All of those bizarre emotions were now contained by a quiet rage. A rage so quiet that it had silenced all his sane thoughts, drawing him out of himself, till he would do things, dangerous things, that he wouldn't himself know. After all, he was the son of a murderer, a murderer who had murdered his wife in a rage.

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