The same day that Maddie brought the clothes, she just found out she and Sam were having a boy and girl. Asha’s heart had first clenched with joy for Maddie when her sister had happily delivered her news, and then for herself because she was going to be an aunt to a new niece and nephew in just a few months. She and Maddie had cried tears of joy together, and it had been at that profound moment that it really hit Asha that she really had family. It no longer mattered what Max and Maddie had or how successful they had become. They were all irrevocably connected, and status meant very little next to the affection she had for both of them. Money or no money, Asha couldn’t have asked for better siblings, and she was grateful every single day for them. She talked to Maddie and Max most days now, and spent as much time with them as she could, getting to know them both.
Lunch with Maddie, Mia, and Kara had become a weekly event, and Asha was still just a little in awe of all three women and their relationships with three very alpha, powerful men. The women were all independent and strong, but they adored their possessive, protective, and bossy husbands because those men wanted them safe and happy. It wasn’t about control for any of the women’s husbands. It was all about loving so strongly that they couldn’t help themselves.
“Really, it all comes down to love,” Asha whispered to herself as she smoothed the dress over her new curves. Didn’t she love Kade’s overprotectiveness and alpha possessiveness? And didn’t she know it was because he cared? Maddie said there was a big difference between “alpha” and “asshole” and Asha completely understood exactly what her sister was saying. The distinguishing factor was all about what motivated their behavior.
Looking at herself in the mirror, Asha applied some light make-up and began French braiding her hair. She smiled, knowing Kade would just unbraid it later. It had become almost a sexy ritual for them, and she shivered as she braided, knowing it would be Kade’s fingers that would set the strands of hair free again.
Finished, she took a final glance at herself, noting the way the jade green silk dress caressed her curves. It was cut just above the knee, but a small side slit revealed enticing glimpses of her thighs when she moved. Kade would like it, but he’d grumble about the amount of leg she was showing, and glare at any man who looked. Smiling, she snatched up her strappy sandals and her purse, glad she didn’t need stockings. Even though she was of mixed heritage, her complexion was dusky enough that wearing stockings was completely unnecessary.
Asha forced herself to ignore the voice of her foster mother in her head that told her to cover her body, that she was exposing too much skin. Raised to be incredibly modest, the dress was a little out of her comfort zone for going out in public. Shaking herself mentally, she reminded herself that it was actually pretty tame by American standards. Still, it was hard to shake her upbringing and the idea that dressing to expose skin made her a “bad girl” who was asking to be assaulted or abused by a man.
Adding a pair of dangling, beaded earrings and her gold bangles, Asha declared herself ready and headed out to the living room.
Seven o’clock.
Kade should arrive any time. He’d said seven thirty, but he was usually early.
Asha was about to bend down to strap on her sandals when a beefy arm wrapped around her neck, startling a panicked scream from her mouth.
“Shut up. You are dressed like a whore, Asha,” a heavily accented male voice said vehemently in her ear.
Asha had known it was Ravi from the moment the strong, male arm had wrapped around her neck. She’d been in the very same position many times before, and she recognized his painful grip and the sweaty scent of his large body. “H-how did you get in here? How did you find me?”
His hold tightened and Asha was starting to see stars flitting across her vision. “You’re my wife, a married Indian woman. Yet you go around with another man. An American,” Ravi answered angrily in Telugu. “You weren’t difficult to find. All I had to do was follow him to you. You disgrace me.”
Before, she would have trembled with fear, waiting for the first blow, which would be followed by many more, leaving her damaged and weeping on the floor. Now, anger began to swell up inside her, a rage for the man who had nearly broken her. “I’m no longer your wife. And I’m an American woman with Indian blood. Let go of me or I’ll have you arrested.”
Fight! Fight! Fight!
For the first time, Asha felt the instinct to fight for her life, for her sanity. At one time, all she had worried about was angering Ravi more, extending her beating. Now she wanted free, unable to ignore the feelings of hatred and fury that she had for the man holding her prisoner.