King of Devon

by Naleighna Kai

  “What’s going on here?” Vikkas asked, gesturing for Milan to remain where the Knights were holding ground.

  “Care to repeat the lies you told them?” Jai asked, his tone strident.

  “I…I…I” the man stammered, then clamped down on anything else he had to say. He seemed to wither under the glares of nine men who were not only protective of Khalil, but of each other.

  “It is only partly a lie,” one of the other men spoke up. “The bastard part is not true. But one of you is also his son. That is something the entire Maharaj family is very much aware of.”

  Khalil excused himself from the group of men he’d been conversing with, and a few quick strides brought him to the space between Grant and Kaleb.

  Vikkas’ mother, Varsha, stepped in and stood mere inches from Khalil, anger etched on her face. Her chest heaved as though each breath was hard to take. “Please do not do this here. Not today, when this is all about Vikkas and Milan.”

  “If not today, when?” Vikkas shot back. “If I have a brother, now is as good a time for me to know what truths have been hidden.” His gaze went to each of the eight men he considered brothers already. The lack of biological ties notwithstanding. Love instead of blood. “Speak up,” he commanded the offender, who remained stoic. “You were so willing to disparage my father behind his back, face him and share your truth.” He gestured to the entire room. “Share it with everyone so it will be done.”

  In the extended silence, Jai did not miss the fact that the elders of the Maharaj family were tense with fear when Jai’s mother, Aashna, came to stand directly next to Khalil. Only two people wore expressions that could be considered resigned—Khalil and Aashna, the woman by his side, as though they had waited for years for this very thing to happen.

  All the Kings, except one, stood still as though filtering through family histories and secrets and trying to make two plus two equal nine.

  “I was just kidding when I said Papa was a rolling stone,” Shaz whispered to Jai.

  “Evidently, he has one other pebble all up an through here,” Dwayne said and the Kings shared a glance.

  “You are my father,” Jai said, moving toward Khalil. The truth had always been there, but he didn’t want to embrace it because it meant admitting that his lineage was wrapped in a web of lies. People always commented how much he and Vikkas looked alike—almost twins. But it was the shock of silver hair at his widow’s peak which matched Khalil’s that had been the most obvious bit of evidence.

  “Are you asking me or telling me?” Khalil said, and a collective sigh of relief went up from the rest of the Kings.

  Khalil would have answered with a direct “No” if Jai was off in his assertion.

  “Of course,” Vikkas said, and a mirthless chuckle left his lips as he faced his brother. “Makes perfect sense. What doesn’t make sense is how we ended up in separate households.”

  “That’s what I’m screaming,” Jai said, narrowing a gaze on Khalil.

  Aashna splayed a hand across Khalil’s chest, the move more intimate and passionate than it should have been for a woman who was married to someone else.

  Jai’s jaw clenched, and he glared at Khalil, chest heaving with indignation. “Why was I the one who was thrown away?”

  “Never thrown away,” Khalil replied, trying to place a calming hand on Jai’s shoulder, but he brushed it off. “Given to a family who would love and care for you. And it was not my choice. Not our choice.”

  The contemporary music continued unabated and some persons still conversed, unaware of the drama unfolding at one end of the room. Several other people milled around aimlessly, trying to gauge the meaning of the interaction between two men who, for all they knew, had limited interaction before this time.

  “Then why?” Jai demanded, gesturing to Hiram to keep Temple with him. She had tried twice to move toward the circle.

  “Because I chose to use my portion of the family fortune to pursue spiritual endeavors, I was stripped of my beloved, my name, and one of my sons.”

  Rage found its way into Jai’s heart and mind, like no other time he could remember. He tried to bring himself to a peaceful place. Truly tried, but the ramifications of what Khalil’s words meant, hit him full force. “The Castle? My life traded? All that for your precious calling? No regard for the fact that I would need you.”

  The Kings moved in, an action that pushed out everyone else leaving only Khalil, Vikkas, Jai, and Aashna in the center. Then the six of them inched backward, forcing the crowd of people to back up.

  Temple approached, but Dro signaled to her to give them some time. She stayed put, but her facial expression registered major concern for Jai.

  Jai closed his eyes, tempering the swell of emotions warring within him. This explained so much. His mother’s overindulgence, but also her sadness. His … father’s … indifference; his anger and certainly the demand of not having anything to do with Khalil. A directive that Jai had totally ignored.

  “Then out of guilt you try to make up for it by insisting that my mother put me into your school. For what? So I could be close to you? Is that it? Trying to be a father after the fact?”

  Khalil took a long slow breath, his olive skin slightly flushed— something no one had ever seen before. “It was never about guilt. That was never my—”

  Taking a step back, Jai spat, “I don’t want to hear any—”

  “Jai—”

  Jai cut Vikkas a look that shut him down. No way would he be silenced in something as serious as this. No way in hell.

  He didn’t miss the nod from Shaz and the sudden movements by the Kings that corralled all the main parties out of the ballroom and to the outside hallway.

  Daron closed the door behind them, leaving the curious onlookers and all family behind. Grant, Reno, Shaz, and Daron stationed themselves near the doors so no one could come out and interrupt. Dwayne, Kaleb, and Dro situated themselves close to Jai’s mother.

  “No, you are not correct in your assertion,” Khalil said, and his eyes misted with unshed tears. “When I choose a path, I stay true. It was always my intent to make sure I was in both of my sons’ lives when they were past their formative years. No matter that my family forced me to give up my wife, one of our sons, and the Maharaj name as penance.”

  “You know what?” Jai shook his head. “From this point on, I don’t want anything to do with your precious little Castle. Nothing at all.”

  “Jaidev Maharaj,” Vikkas snapped, and all heads whipped to him. “No matter what you’re feeling right now. No matter how hard this hurts, do not deny that the sacrifice he made was for the greater good.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Jai shot back, moving so he was toe to toe with Vikkas. “You had our father growing up.”

  “Yes, and you had our mother,” Vikkas roared. “And I ended up with a mother so hell-bent on making him pay for not being her first choice, that she took it out on me.” He stepped in so that they were only a few inches apart. “So that makes us pretty damn even.”

  Reno let out a low whistle and Shaz nudged him into silence.

  “He traded her life and ours, for an intangible thing,” Jai whispered and his voice trembled a little as he glared at Khalil. “There is no way to feel any kind of good about that.”

  “And I’m not saying we should, my brother,” Vikkas countered in a lower tone, and the words caused Jai to flinch. My brother. That term was relative. “What I’m saying is that knowing him, he did not intend for that arrangement to be permanent. Am I right?”

  Khalil nodded, a tear making its way down his cheek followed by yet another, then another. Aashna reached up to wipe them away with the back of a trembling hand. He pressed his hand over hers and closed his eyes. The most open display of affection Jai had ever witnessed from his mother, and evidently the same held true for Vikkas of his father because his eyes widened in shock, then quickly morphed into anger.

  * * *

  “I will come for you and my son when
the time is right,” Khalil whispered to Aashna.

  They stood on the ground where The Castle was slated to be built. At that moment, the only thing in place was a small bridge that was a pathway over a meadow that ran through the center of the grounds. Soon a stone structure would extend the length of the area far and wide. “You will always be close to my heart,” he continued.

  “I will take good care of our son,” she promised, pressing a hand to his chest. “Your mission is so important to the world.”

  “Not more important than you,” Khalil countered, pulling her into his arms. “Just as important, but our families do not see the good it will do.”

  He had taken on the name Khalil Germaine, reflecting the elements of a man whose work he truly admired—Khalil Gabran. He too, aspired for the world to embrace peace. Khalil was well aware of how attempts at bridging the gap between factions could go horribly wrong. Gandhi had tried for peace and it had failed on the most basic human levels in India. He created Pakistan for Muslims and all Muslims were supposed to have left India, but did not. Now some of the holiest places in India were in trouble because one group was trying to rule and take over everything. That great error was the reason Gandhi had been shot.

  There had been no need to make Pakistan. Everyone would have been happier that way. Because of the division, hatred, wars, property issues, rapes and mistreatment of women ensued. Khalil’s focus was on having a spiritual connection with all through humanitarian works and by reaching out to those minds who could be molded into understanding that integrity, peace, and courage would be a way of life. Aashna well understood this since her family had been ravaged by dissension—both religious and financial.

  Aashna withdrew from his embrace. “You are meant to accomplish much here on American soil. Know that you will never be far from my heart and mind.”

  “Thank you for putting me at ease,” Khalil whispered, bringing her back into his arms. She was the woman of his heart, and his family had arranged the marriage, unaware of how much they loved each other before then. And some seemed especially angry that their marriage did not have the same anxiousness, and sometimes bitterness as most of the others before theirs.

  Their love came through no matter how much they tried to hide it. Even their parents commented on it in a way that made it seem they had wished for them to suffer as they had before settling into a life of obligation and responsibility, mired in family tradition.

  Love matches seldom happened in arranged marriages. This was a first for the Maharaj family, and most did not know how to accept the inevitable.

  “Their demands are cruel and meant to hurt me, but they care nothing for how much it hurts you. Despite what the family says, you are still my wife and we are bound for life. Right here, what they are demanding of us,” he tapped the gold band around her finger. “Is semantics on their part. I will be successful and I will come for you and my son. Before then and after, you and he will never want for anything.” He guided her into a secluded area with lush greenery. “When it is built, this place here in The Castle will become your private sanctuary. You will be able to leave messages for me, and I for you.”

  Khalil spread out the blanket and under the moonlight, they made love repeatedly knowing their separation was but hours––days away.

  The precious time spent together left her with another gift from him.

  CHAPTER 24

  A series of loud bangs on the door signaled that people on the inside of the wedding reception were demanding to be let out. Not because they wanted to leave the venue. More like they were curious about how everything was playing out.

  “The Knights have it secured in there. If there’s an emergency, there’s another exit,” Daron said, shrugging. “They can use that.”

  The banging began again and Reno shifted his gaze to Khalil, who gave an almost imperceptible nod.

  Grant lowered the gold handle and the door only opened partway and Hiram whispered something to him.

  “Some dude named Gaurav wants to say something to Khalil.”

  “Let him through. That’s my … father?” Jai said, and his expression was more confused than ever.

  Hiram stepped aside and a red-faced man barreled into the corridor.

  “You cannot have my wife,” Gaurav growled at Khalil, taking in the fact that said wife was securely in Khalil’s arms, with no intention of relinquishing that space and Khalil had no intention of letting go.

  “Technically, for all intents and purposes, she is—and—always will be my wife on a spiritual, emotional, and mental level. No wedding band or document ever changed that.” Khalil tightened his hold on Aashna. “You could only lay claim to her physical presence.”

  “And if we are being honest …” Aashna began, her soft voice cutting through the silence.

  Vikkas and Jai braced themselves.

  “Not on a physical level either,” she finished and her expression was pure steel.

  “Oh, that was cold,” Kaleb said.

  Daron nudged him, but Shaz also grimaced at that ugly barb.

  Gaurav darkened as he growled, “How low class and basic of you.”

  “Well, it is the truth,” she said with a lift of her chin. “You have not been doing your husbandly duty all these years.”

  With a vein pulsing in his forehead, Gaurav spat. “Hard to do when you whisper his name during the act.”

  Aashna drew herself up to her full height. “Well, I needed an … an” She waved her hand, gesturing to come up with the word. “an orgasm from all that effort you did not put in. Literally.”

  “Mama!” Jai roared, his olive skin turning beet red. “TMI.”

  “Whew, would you look at the time,” Reno said, signaling to the rest of the Kings that it was time to make an exit stage left. Jai’s mother didn’t just throw shade, she had tossed in an entire forest.

  Despite Reno’s efforts, everyone stayed put.

  On the other side of the door, more banging and commotion caused Dro to crack open the door to get Hiram’s take on things. He learned that Vikkas’ mother was trying to come out.

  “Don’t let her out of there,” Vikkas warned, massaging his temple. “There’s already enough drama going on to last us the rest of this year.”

  Aashna moved forward until she stood in front of Gaurav. “Your mother treated me so poorly and none of this was my fault,” she said, ignoring his angry glower. “We would have had a better chance in this marriage if you had taken your manhood out of her back pocket and grew some actual andas.”

  “What does that mean?” Grant asked.

  “Balls,” Vikkas and Jai replied in unison.

  Complete silence descended in the room for untold moments. Then Daron said, “Yes, so, about blowing this joint …”

  This time, the Kings shifted to make that move.

  “No, stay,” Jai commanded causing them to halt. “I think we’re just getting to the good wood.”

  “Or lack thereof,” Vikkas mumbled, looking directly at Jai and raised an eyebrow.

  Everyone froze.

  Jai tried to school his features into an angry mask, but failed in that effort. No matter the seriousness of the moment, that was funny as hell.

  Chuckles and snickers abounded from the Kings. Until Khalil cut a silencing look their way. They fell silent, but Jai saw that even Khalil was trying to not embarrass the man by laughing outright.

  Banging interrupted once again. Grant cracked the door nearest him and found that Khalil’s father and an older group of men wanted an audience.

  “Let them through,” Khalil said, and Grant, Daron, and Dro passed the word on to the Knights, who allowed some of the Maharaj family through the doors, then Sandy, Temple and Milan came out as well until Vikkas put an end to the steady stream by signaling for Hiram to shut the doors again.

  When five elders gathered in front of Khalil, standing behind Gaurav, he spoke in an authoritative tone, warning. “If you claim her now, then The Castle and all of your
wealth returns to the Maharaj family and part of it to me. That was the agreement. You lose everything, your children, their status as Maharaj heirs, your money. Everything.”

  Khalil brought Aashna to his side as he glared at his father, Jagat, and the elders who stood with him. “The Castle, and all of its holdings, is now in the hands of nine men who are responsible for its destiny. All of this was done through the American legal system. You cannot touch any of it, because it is no longer mine to give.”

  A roar of discontent went up among family, the voices so loud no one could hear anything clearly.

  “Why are you so upset?” Khalil roared, and the voices trickled to a halt as his heated gaze narrowed on Jagat. “So after you forced me to give up my name, my wife, two of my children, and now that The Castle has more wealth and fortune than both the Bhandari and Maharaj families combined, you want The Castle as part of the Maharaj coffers. When I sacrificed so much to get it to a place where it could sustain itself for centuries to come, you—who doubted what could be accomplished—want to benefit from all of my hard work. Now that—as my sons would say—is some bullshit.”