Half an hour later, the party had started dispersing and the guests started to leave. Mayank told Divya the rehearsed lie about having to go to the lawyer's office in Dallas. Divya didn't say anything to Mayank but in her mind, she thought about whether this was something engineered by Bashir to take a chance at her. In fact, she was sure of it.
Musa then drove him to the back of the house, and led him to a bedroom with multiple TV screens. One one screen, he could see a shot of Divya and Bashir sitting in the lounge with a couple of guests and talking, maintaining a respectable distance between them.
"The feed right now is for the living room. When they move to the bedroom, I will switch it to that feed."
"I don't think that's going to happen." Mayank laughed confidently.
Musa shook his head slightly and stayed silent. He had seen Bashir play out many versions of this game in the past. And it always followed a similar pattern. The husband was always confident that his wife won't give in to the old man. And then got increasingly despondent when she did.
"Would you like a drink, Mr. Vyas?" Musa asked, opening a liquor cabinet in the corner.
"No, I am okay." Mayank replied, watching the screen.
"I think you might need it." Musa poured out a tall scotch neat and left it on a table next to Mayank.
On the screen, there was still the image of Divya and Bashir seated in chairs talking with the last remaining guest. The conversation was just mundane small talk. Finally the guest left, leaving the young Indian wife alone with the old Arab. Mayank watched and listened carefully.
"There was no need for Mayank to go to Dallas today, was there?" Divya asked, a little testily.
"Not for the contract, no." Bashir enigmatically said. "Have you given any thought to my proposal?"
Proposal? What proposal, thought Mayank.
"Yes, and I don't think it's a good idea." Divya replied trying to sound confident, although she was feeling very tempted.
Bashir got up from his chair and stood behind Divya. He gently put his hands on her shoulders and massaged them, saying,
"Think about it. Ten million dollars. For just one night. And your husband will never know."
Mayank stood up instantly.
"WHAT THE FUCK!!??" he hotly said heading for the door. "This is cheating! He is pressuring her with the money. That's not what was originally agreed. I am going there and putting a stop to this."
Musa stood between him and the door.
"Please sit down, Mr. Vyas."
"Get out of my way." Mayank said, trying to shove Musa.
But the strapping young Arab was physically much stronger. He effortlessly grabbed Mayank by the shoulder and pushed him back to the bed.
"Mr. Vyas, I have been told to not let you interfere. Now that you have agreed to this, you need to let it play out. And I assure you, I can easily overpower you and even knock you unconscious if you don't cooperate."
Mayank looked at the burly Arab and realized there was no way out of the room. He turned his attention back to the screen.
Divya was sitting on the chair looking tense. She had moved Bashir's hands off her shoulder once but he put them back.
"Please...don't." she softly said, partly to her own body which was starting to respond to Bashir's touch.
"Twenty million." he said, slipping his hand to her bare back and caressing it, while also looking at the hidden camera he knew Mayank was watching through.
"Why are you doing this?" Divya was on the verge of crying.
Bashir bent down and with his lips, gently nuzzled Divya's ears, making shivers run down her spine.
"Fifty million." Bashir said and with his hand, softly turned Divya's head sideways. "Fifty million dollars as a gift. For just one night with you."
Mayank was enraged sitting there, but he was also conflicted. If he really got fifty million dollars, it would change his life completely. And if Divya did accept the proposal, he could just dump her and move on. A part of him actually started hoping that Divya would give in.
Divya was really torn. She was feeling extremely aroused at this charming handsome Arab's machinations. She was also being offered enough money to turn her family's fortunes completely around. And most importantly, as far as she knew, Mayank would never find out. She was staring into Bashir's gray eyes with her mouth slightly open as she pondered all this.
Bashir, sensing an opening, leaned in further and placed his lips on Divya's lips. Divya shuddered at the firm grip he had on her shoulder and how gently his lips were feeling on hers. She found herself responding. She moved her hand to the kuffiyah on Bashir's head and kissed him back.
Mayank watched in amazement as his young hot wife locked lips with the old Arab in his 60s. She had given in. It was over. With one kiss, it was over.
"Whore." he said angrily.
"Mr. Vyas, I suggest you don't watch things any further." Musa said. "It will only cause you more distress."
Mayank ignored Musa and kept watching. He reached for the glass of scotch and took a big gulp to calm his shaky nerves.