Chapter 3. Let's Get Married

Khushi's POVThe car ground to a standstill in front of the Star Palace's back door. It was the same hotel where I was evicted a while back. Even though I didn't particularly enjoy my job, it was humiliating to get kicked out. 

I exited the car once the man unlocked the door for me.  "This is—""Star Palace." He completed the sentence for me.

"Please follow me." Turning toward the hotel's back door, he included it.

"Uh, Mr.— Uncle Hemant?" I blurted out, unsure of what to name him. I didn't want to address him by his first name, as he requested.

Uncle Hemant stopped in his tracks and spun around. His orbs were wide with wonder.

"Do you mind if I call you Uncle Hemant?" I inquired, observing his unwavering stare.

"As you wish. I won't mind." Finally, he spoke out, smiling. Uncle Hemant seemed like a nice person.

"All right, Uncle Hemant, I just wanted to let you know that the manager won't let me in since I lost my job, and he forbade me from ever coming back." I briefed him on the existing scenario.

"Was it all you were concerned about?"

I nodded my head at his question.

"Don't worry. Everything will be taken care of." He winked while opening the back door, and then we stepped inside.

People who were working there modified their perspectives toward us. My former coworkers' faces were a mix of shock and bewilderment. Several of them glanced at me with cynicism.

Manager Tyagi, unfortunately, was also present in the hall. He was engrossed in a conversation with someone else when his gaze strayed to me, and I swear I saw him clamp his teeth as if he was about to swallow me alive.

"You?" He aimed at me and sprinted forward, pointing his finger at me.

"Haven't I told you not to come back here? You have the audacity to—"

Uncle Hemant jumped in between us and stopped Manager Tyagi from getting any closer to me, cutting off his words. "Excuse me?"

"Mr. Sharma, y—"

Uncle Hemant cut him off again."Yes, Master Darsh's P.S., Hemant Sharma."

"Yes, but why are you using the back door? And, above all, why is this girl here?" The manager demanded, glancing at me with a keen gaze. I stood behind Uncle Hemant's slim yet tall physique, trying to blend in.

"Miss Khushi Acharya can't enter through the main entrance due to the media having swarmed the area."

"She is not permitted to enter!" Manager Tyagi proclaimed with a firm tone.

"Ah, I see." Uncle Hemant rubbed his chin.

"Therefore, Master Darsh will have to relocate." He said that after a while, and that platitude was enough to make Mr. Tyagi gape.

"Mr. Sharma, what are you saying? Mr. Darsh Sinha is a frequent visitor and VIP client of our facility. 

Why would he want to leave?" The creases of stress on Tyagi's temple were coherent as he uttered those words.

"Take a look at this young lady here, Mr. Whatever." Uncle Hemant addressed me politely. "Miss Khushi Acharya is Master Darsh's guest. Her criticism will get interpreted as criticism of my master.

And if my master's guests are not permitted here, he will shift to a destination where his guests will be warmly welcomed." Uncle Hemant's clarification caused my jaw to drop. Was I a guest of Darsh Sinha? Me?

"Mr. Darsh Sinha's guest? Khushi Acharya?" Tyagi squinted at me as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing. I couldn't speak because of my situation. But if I could, I would have said something similar.

"Any doubt?" Uncle Hemant drew his arms across his chest and furrowed his brows together.

"Uh..." Manager Tyagi stared at me with a baffled gaze for a few seconds.

"So, what exactly should I inform Master Darsh? Should I notify him we're leaving?" Uncle Hemant took out his phone and shot Tyagi an irked look.

"What? Mr. Sharma, what are you talking about?" Manager Tyagi was on the verge of flinching. However, a nervous grin soon emerged on his lips. "Mr. Darsh Sinha is a veteran client of ours. We can't possibly expect him to go anywhere else. His guest is, of course, ultimately our guest. We'll treat her the same way we treat Mr. Sinha. You needn't be concerned, Mr. Sharma." 

His tenacious effort to keep Darsh was evident on his face as his awkward grin broadened even further. 

"That's exactly what I was anticipating.  I'm relieved to learn that Mr. Tyagi shares my viewpoint." Uncle Hemant paused for a moment.

"Then convey your apology to Miss Acharya for being impolite." With a confident grin, he included it, causing Tyagi and me to gasp as he placed the phone in its previous place.

"Pardon?" Tyagi inquired hesitantly.

"I said, apologies to the lady for being disrespectful previously."

I bit my lower lip nervously. It was unexpected to see Uncle Hemant insist that Manager Tyagi apologize to me. Wasn't it a tad excessive?

"I'm running low on time. Please finish it so that we can get on with our business." Uncle Hemant gave the command, his gaze fixed on his wristwatch.

"Mr. Tyagi?" As Manager Tyagi seemed lost in his muse, Uncle Hemant raised his voice.

"Yes, of course." Said the manager before his sight voyaged towards me.

"I sincerely ask for your forgiveness for my earlier behavior, Miss Acharya. It won't happen again." With a bow and a hushed voice, Tyagi spoke up. He must have felt humiliated by having to ask for forgiveness from an ex-employee he had recently fired. He didn't look me in the eyes, and his sincere apology didn't sound very sincere, yet it still left me speechless.

One thing I discerned vividly was that money could buy you anything. The manager, who had never spoken to me respectfully before, was now pleading to get forgiveness from me only because I was being endorsed by a wealthy businessman.

"It's all right." I reacted promptly, as not to further embarrass Manager Tyagi. But as he lifted his head, he cast me a disdainful glance.

"I'm relieved that the problem has been solved amicably." Uncle Hemant grinned briefly before returning his gaze to his watch.

"Now, if you stop resisting our path, we would like to head for Master Darsh's room. He's eagerly expecting Miss Acharya's arrival." He gave a courteous order. And I swallowed hard as I realized Uncle Hemant's ability. I learned never to mess with him at all. 

"Without a doubt. Please go ahead." Tyagi stepped back a few strides, giving us space to depart. He allowed us to go through the back door since the journalists were still in front of the main entrance. If they had detected me sneaking in again, Star Palace's image might have gotten tarnished much more.

"Ma'am, please allow me to lead you." Before resuming his attention to the path, Uncle Hemant suggested. Before following him, I took one last look around the hall and spotted a lot of perplexed faces. Manager Tyagi, in particular, was still scowling at me.

I turned off my phone as we entered the elevator because I had hundreds of missed calls from my family. I was afraid the news had already reached them. And at the time, I didn't want to respond to anyone.

I remembered my first encounter with Uncle Hemant. He assured me that I was rescued, but how?"

"I didn't get the meaning of your words back there. What exactly did you mean when you said, "All of my difficulties have been solved"?" I inquired.

Uncle Hemant responded to my question with a chuckle, which mystified me even more. First and foremost, I was determined to follow Uncle Hemant because his words provided me with hope for my nearly-dead life. And I wanted to give myself a chance one final time.

Now that I think about it, why did I attempt suicide without first seeking to resolve the issue? It is so unlike me! Khushi Acharya is not easily deterred! Right!

"We've arrived." Uncle Hemant's remarks jolted me back to reality, and I was once again poised in front of Darsh's suite. Two bouncers stood towering above us, guarding his suite.

Thanks to Uncle Hemant, we were permitted to enter without further interrogation, and I got reconciled with that supercilious CEO. He was lounging on the couch in the living area, donning a night robe and sipping what appeared to be red wine.

As I approached him, his eyes caught mine, and he smiled fiendishly. 

"Take a seat," Darsh instructed while mounting the wine glass on the oak table.

I sat across from him on the small couch, patiently obeying his commands. Looking back, I discovered Uncle Hemant standing at a safe distance. Inhaling a deep breath, I reassured myself that everything would be fine.

"You're acting quite strange right now, kitten. Wasn't it just a few hours earlier that you were yelling and swooping at me? What's wrong?" Darsh sneered, peering at my eyes.

I kept my mouth shut even after sensing the coherent banter in his speech.

Darsh's gaze was drawn to his assistant, and Uncle Hemant spoke up on my behalf. "As I informed you, Master Darsh, Miss Acharya was on the brink of death. Thank goodness I was behind the wheel."

"Right." Darsh shifted his attention back to me.

"You have lost your career and your image, and you will be unable to obtain work in the future."

He described the incident so nonchalantly that I refused to believe he had any sympathy for other humans.

Clenching my fist, I raised my chin and asked, "Have you called me here to sprinkle salt on my wounds?"

"No." He was quick to respond. "In fact, I have a solution for both of them." 

"What?" I blinked twice while examining his facial gestures. And, as usual, he appeared unconcerned.

At that time, I wasn't certain if he was kidding or not, but I desperately wanted to trust him. Because I believed that wealthy people could accomplish anything.

"Yes."

"How?" I demanded, giddy with excitement. My irises twinkled with anticipation.

"Let's get married." Darsh addressed it in the most casual possible manner.

"What?"