His eyes widen slightly. “Are you sure, Ma’am?”
“Yes,” I say, stepping towards the stove. “It’s my first day here, and I want to cook something special.”
He exchanges hesitant glances with the other staff members, but I ignore them and ask, “Is there anything they don’t like?”
He blinks at me, then begins listing things one by one. I nod, storing each detail in my mind, a mischievous smile tugging at my lips as I plan to cook exactly what they hate. Then, I dive in.
Once the food is ready, I turn to the staff.
“Plate these and serve them at the table,” I say, watching their worried reactions.
“But Ma’am—” one of them begins, hesitation clear in his voice.
“I said go and serve,” I cut him off firmly.
He swallows, then nods, signalling the other staff, and together, they begin carrying the dishes towards the dining table, exchanging uneasy glances as they go.
Grinning, I step back and lean against the counter.
A few seconds later, I hear Dev’s dad’s angry voice carrying from the dining table into the kitchen.
“What the hell is this?”
Straightening, I lift the bowl of bitter gourd halwa and step out of the kitchen.
“How’s breakfast, Papaji? I made it especially for you all,” I say, stepping up to the dining table.
Dev’s dad sits at the head of the table, while Dev and Veer are seated on either side of him, each wearing an expression that clearly screams annoyance.
“Why did you have to cook?” Dev replies, irritation clear in his voice.
I notice he’s freshly showered and dressed impeccably in his three-piece suit, while Veer, on the other hand, lounges casually in a T-shirt and jeans.
“Come on, hubby,” I say playfully. The wordhubbytastes strange on my tongue, equal parts truth and denial, but I shove the awkwardness aside and focus on the task at hand.
“It’s my first day here, and it’s my duty to make something in the kitchen. But you wouldn’t know much about that. The Rathores don’t seem to care much for rituals or traditions.” I look at Dev’s dad before adding. “That’s why I didn’t touch your feet for blessings, Papaji. But now that I am here, I’ll make sure you’re all well-versed in the ways of our culture. For now, though, please have breakfast,” I say, standing between Dev’s chair and his father’s.
Dev’s father scoffs, eyeing the spread of puri, aloo kachori, samosas, and lassi. “We don’t eat this. Tell the staff to serve my usual.”
“Well, I’ve already distributed your usual to the staff as part of our wedding celebration. I am sorry, Papaji, but this is all you get.” I set the bowl of halwa right in front of him. “In fact, I made this especially for you, Papaji. I know you Rathores don’t like anything sweet, given how bitter you all are, so I thought this would be perfect.”
“Who the hell are you to talk to me like that?” Dev’s father snaps, his voice rising enough to make a staff member flinch in the corner.
“Your daughter-in-law, Papaji. Did you forget?” I shrug lightly. “Oh, I understand. These things do happen with age.” I grin as though I am offering genuine help. “Tell you what, starting tomorrow, I’ll soak five almonds for you. That should help sharpen your memory.”
Dev’s father glares at me, then shoots a sharp look at Dev. “Will you say something, or will you just let your wife insult me like this?”
I meet Dev’s eyes, letting the faintest smirk play on my lips.Oh, this is fun.
But before Dev can reply, a bright, chirpy voice greets.
“Hello, everyone!”
I glance up and see a model-like girl, looking straight out of a fashion magazine. She’s tall and is dressed in a short, form-fitting red dress. Her long, glossy hair cascades over her shoulders, and her eyes sweep over me, scanning me from head to toe as if measuring me.
“So this is the lucky girl… Dev’s wife?” she asks.
“Yes,” I reply curtly.
