16-08-2026, 10:10 AM
(This post was last modified: 04-09-2026, 02:18 PM by Authorsunny.)
Chapter 17 – Part 4
24 November 2025 – Monday (continued)
As we left the footwear and clothing sections behind and walked toward the quieter end of the first floor. The crowd thinned a little near the premium stores.
The jewellery store stood behind a glass wall with soft yellow lighting. The name was written in discreet gold letters. As soon as we entered, a man in a dark waistcoat came forward with a recognition that was immediate and deferential.
“Azad Sahab. Please come. We were expecting you might visit today.”
The jeweller’s eyes flicked briefly to Ma and then returned to Azad with a small, knowing inclination of the head. He did not ask who she was. He simply treated her presence as natural and already accounted for. Two assistants cleared a private glass counter near the back and brought out low premium chairs. Azad waited until Ma was seated before he sat beside her. I remained standing a little to the side, the shopping bags still in my hands.
The jeweller unlocked a drawer and placed three trays on the black velvet cloth. Gold earrings of different weights and designs. Azad did not look at the trays first. He looked at Ma’s face, then at the open neckline of her blouse, then at the thin straps on her shoulders.
“Something that sits properly with this neck,” he said to the jeweller, his voice low but clear enough for me to hear. “Not too heavy. She already has jhumkas. Something that rests closer to the skin.”
Ma’s hand moved once to the wide scoop of her blouse, as if she had suddenly become aware of how much skin was visible. Azad’s eyes followed the movement of her fingers. For a moment the air between them felt tighter than the rest of the store.
The jeweller brought a smaller tray. Azad picked up a pair of rose-gold studs with a thin drop of polished stone. He turned them in the light, then held them out toward Ma’s face without actually touching her.
“Look up,” he said.
She lifted her face. He compared the metal against the skin of her cheek and the side of her neck. His knuckles came within a centimetre of her jaw. She held completely still. I watched the soft rise and fall of her breasts under the fitted blouse become a fraction faster.
“These,” he decided. “And keep the other two trays away. We don’t need to waste time.”
I could see the smile of gratitude, genuine affection, and admiration for his dominant yet controlling attitude.
The jeweller inclined his head and removed the extra trays at once. There was no attempt to up-sell. The respect was absolute. Whatever relationship Azad had with this shop, it was not the ordinary customer relationship most people experienced.
While the earrings were being packed, Azad leaned closer to Ma. His voice dropped to a register meant only for her, yet the quiet of the premium store carried most of the words to me.
“The blouse is lower than I thought it would be when you sit like this. Every time you breathe I can see the edge of what you wore underneath.”
Ma’s peach-painted fingers tightened once on the edge of the velvet cloth. She did not look at him. She looked at the glass surface of the counter, with shy smile on her face.
“Not here,” she murmured.
“I am only telling you what is in front of my eyes. You chose to wear it. I am not complaining.”
A small, almost unwilling breath left her mouth. She shifted on the chair. The movement made the thin strap of the blouse slip a few millimetres down her shoulder. Before she could lift it herself, Azad’s hand rose and settled the strap back in place. His fingers rested against the bare skin of her shoulder for two full seconds longer than the adjustment required. The touch was intimate, possessive, and completely open to anyone who happened to look. The jeweller kept his eyes on the billing screen and gave no sign that he had noticed. I noticed.
Ma’s throat moved as she swallowed. She did not push his hand away. When he finally removed it, the place where his fingers had been remained slightly pink.
The bill for the earrings came to a little over seventy-eight thousand rupees. Azad paid with the same card he had used earlier. No discussion. No hesitation. The jeweller placed the small box inside a larger red outer box and tied it with a thin gold ribbon. Then he brought out a second, flatter red box from under the counter and placed it beside the first without being asked.
Azad slid the second box across the velvet toward Ma.
Ma looked at the closed red box. “What is it?”
“You will see later. Not here.”
"Offoo, Azad Sahab, this was not needed. You already bought these earrings for me, they are enough. Please, I can't take it."
"Oh, come on, since when did you start refusing my gifts? I am giving it, I know you will like it." He then looked at me and back to Ma, as if questioning her behavior because of my presence.
She then nodded, smiled and rested her fingers on the lid for a moment but did not open it. The jeweller’s face remained carefully neutral, yet the slight smile at the corner of his mouth suggested he already knew the contents and approved of them.
We stood to leave. As Ma rose from the chair the peach chiffon shifted across her hips and the wide neckline of the blouse dipped forward for a brief second. Azad’s eyes dropped and stayed there deliberately until she straightened. She caught the direction of his gaze. Instead of turning away or covering herself, she held his eyes for a long moment and then looked down, a small, private acceptance in the gesture.
Outside the store the mall noise returned. Azad carried both the red boxes in one hand and the earlier shopping bags in the other. His free hand returned to the Ma’s back, lower than before, fingers spread against the soft curve just above the start of her hips. This time the touch was not guiding. It was claiming. Ma walked with it. Her body had already adjusted to the pressure.
We moved toward the escalators that led to the food court and restaurant level. Halfway there Azad slowed his steps so that Ma and he fell a little behind me. I heard the low murmur of his voice but not every word. What reached me was enough.
“…when you leaned over the counter… the way the cloth moved… I could see the lace properly for a moment…you are looking so so so damn hot today….darling”
Ma’s reply was too soft to catch, but the tone was not refusal. It was the low, slightly breathless tone of a woman who was being affected and was trying not to show how much. When I glanced back I saw that his hand had moved from her back to the side of her waist, under the free end of the pallu, resting directly against the fitted blouse. His thumb stroked once, slowly, along the line of her lower ribs. Ma’s shoulders tightened and then released. She kept walking.
The erotic charge between them had stepped past the earlier marks and scents and private phone calls. It was now present in open daylight, inside a crowded mall, in the way he touched her, the way he spoke about what the blouse revealed, and the way she allowed both the words and the hands without pulling away. I felt it in the heat that rose under my own skin and in the simultaneous cold weight that settled in my stomach.
We reached the upper level. Azad finally removed his hand and spoke in a normal voice again.
“We will eat here. The place at the corner is quieter. Then we go for the crackers.”
Ma nodded. Her cheeks still held colour. The thin strap of her blouse had slipped again; this time she adjusted it herself, but the movement was slower than necessary, as if she was still feeling the earlier touch of his fingers on her shoulder.
I followed them toward the restaurant, the shopping bags heavier in my hands than they had any right to be.
24 November 2025 – Monday (continued)
As we left the footwear and clothing sections behind and walked toward the quieter end of the first floor. The crowd thinned a little near the premium stores.
The jewellery store stood behind a glass wall with soft yellow lighting. The name was written in discreet gold letters. As soon as we entered, a man in a dark waistcoat came forward with a recognition that was immediate and deferential.
“Azad Sahab. Please come. We were expecting you might visit today.”
The jeweller’s eyes flicked briefly to Ma and then returned to Azad with a small, knowing inclination of the head. He did not ask who she was. He simply treated her presence as natural and already accounted for. Two assistants cleared a private glass counter near the back and brought out low premium chairs. Azad waited until Ma was seated before he sat beside her. I remained standing a little to the side, the shopping bags still in my hands.
The jeweller unlocked a drawer and placed three trays on the black velvet cloth. Gold earrings of different weights and designs. Azad did not look at the trays first. He looked at Ma’s face, then at the open neckline of her blouse, then at the thin straps on her shoulders.
“Something that sits properly with this neck,” he said to the jeweller, his voice low but clear enough for me to hear. “Not too heavy. She already has jhumkas. Something that rests closer to the skin.”
Ma’s hand moved once to the wide scoop of her blouse, as if she had suddenly become aware of how much skin was visible. Azad’s eyes followed the movement of her fingers. For a moment the air between them felt tighter than the rest of the store.
The jeweller brought a smaller tray. Azad picked up a pair of rose-gold studs with a thin drop of polished stone. He turned them in the light, then held them out toward Ma’s face without actually touching her.
“Look up,” he said.
She lifted her face. He compared the metal against the skin of her cheek and the side of her neck. His knuckles came within a centimetre of her jaw. She held completely still. I watched the soft rise and fall of her breasts under the fitted blouse become a fraction faster.
“These,” he decided. “And keep the other two trays away. We don’t need to waste time.”
I could see the smile of gratitude, genuine affection, and admiration for his dominant yet controlling attitude.
The jeweller inclined his head and removed the extra trays at once. There was no attempt to up-sell. The respect was absolute. Whatever relationship Azad had with this shop, it was not the ordinary customer relationship most people experienced.
While the earrings were being packed, Azad leaned closer to Ma. His voice dropped to a register meant only for her, yet the quiet of the premium store carried most of the words to me.
“The blouse is lower than I thought it would be when you sit like this. Every time you breathe I can see the edge of what you wore underneath.”
Ma’s peach-painted fingers tightened once on the edge of the velvet cloth. She did not look at him. She looked at the glass surface of the counter, with shy smile on her face.
“Not here,” she murmured.
“I am only telling you what is in front of my eyes. You chose to wear it. I am not complaining.”
A small, almost unwilling breath left her mouth. She shifted on the chair. The movement made the thin strap of the blouse slip a few millimetres down her shoulder. Before she could lift it herself, Azad’s hand rose and settled the strap back in place. His fingers rested against the bare skin of her shoulder for two full seconds longer than the adjustment required. The touch was intimate, possessive, and completely open to anyone who happened to look. The jeweller kept his eyes on the billing screen and gave no sign that he had noticed. I noticed.
Ma’s throat moved as she swallowed. She did not push his hand away. When he finally removed it, the place where his fingers had been remained slightly pink.
The bill for the earrings came to a little over seventy-eight thousand rupees. Azad paid with the same card he had used earlier. No discussion. No hesitation. The jeweller placed the small box inside a larger red outer box and tied it with a thin gold ribbon. Then he brought out a second, flatter red box from under the counter and placed it beside the first without being asked.
Azad slid the second box across the velvet toward Ma.
Ma looked at the closed red box. “What is it?”
“You will see later. Not here.”
"Offoo, Azad Sahab, this was not needed. You already bought these earrings for me, they are enough. Please, I can't take it."
"Oh, come on, since when did you start refusing my gifts? I am giving it, I know you will like it." He then looked at me and back to Ma, as if questioning her behavior because of my presence.
She then nodded, smiled and rested her fingers on the lid for a moment but did not open it. The jeweller’s face remained carefully neutral, yet the slight smile at the corner of his mouth suggested he already knew the contents and approved of them.
We stood to leave. As Ma rose from the chair the peach chiffon shifted across her hips and the wide neckline of the blouse dipped forward for a brief second. Azad’s eyes dropped and stayed there deliberately until she straightened. She caught the direction of his gaze. Instead of turning away or covering herself, she held his eyes for a long moment and then looked down, a small, private acceptance in the gesture.
Outside the store the mall noise returned. Azad carried both the red boxes in one hand and the earlier shopping bags in the other. His free hand returned to the Ma’s back, lower than before, fingers spread against the soft curve just above the start of her hips. This time the touch was not guiding. It was claiming. Ma walked with it. Her body had already adjusted to the pressure.
We moved toward the escalators that led to the food court and restaurant level. Halfway there Azad slowed his steps so that Ma and he fell a little behind me. I heard the low murmur of his voice but not every word. What reached me was enough.
“…when you leaned over the counter… the way the cloth moved… I could see the lace properly for a moment…you are looking so so so damn hot today….darling”
Ma’s reply was too soft to catch, but the tone was not refusal. It was the low, slightly breathless tone of a woman who was being affected and was trying not to show how much. When I glanced back I saw that his hand had moved from her back to the side of her waist, under the free end of the pallu, resting directly against the fitted blouse. His thumb stroked once, slowly, along the line of her lower ribs. Ma’s shoulders tightened and then released. She kept walking.
The erotic charge between them had stepped past the earlier marks and scents and private phone calls. It was now present in open daylight, inside a crowded mall, in the way he touched her, the way he spoke about what the blouse revealed, and the way she allowed both the words and the hands without pulling away. I felt it in the heat that rose under my own skin and in the simultaneous cold weight that settled in my stomach.
We reached the upper level. Azad finally removed his hand and spoke in a normal voice again.
“We will eat here. The place at the corner is quieter. Then we go for the crackers.”
Ma nodded. Her cheeks still held colour. The thin strap of her blouse had slipped again; this time she adjusted it herself, but the movement was slower than necessary, as if she was still feeling the earlier touch of his fingers on her shoulder.
I followed them toward the restaurant, the shopping bags heavier in my hands than they had any right to be.
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