mother's reaction and the first bet

Rohan’s heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird. He stared at Derek, the words "Fine, you're on" barely off his tongue, when the sound of a key turning in the front lock froze them both.

The heavy wooden door creaked open, letting in a gust of cool evening air. "Boys? I'm back!" Riya’s voice rang out, cheerful and melodic. "I forgot the avocados, can you believe it?"

She bustled into the hallway, setting her purse down on the side table. She moved toward the living room, her heels clicking sharply on the hardwood floor. "I hope you two haven't been killing each other while I was gone."

Rohan and Derek sprang apart. The heavy, aggressive atmosphere that had filled the room seconds earlier evaporated, replaced by a panicked awkwardness. Rohan wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, terrified his mother would sense the **** in the air.

"We were just... talking, Mom," Rohan stammered, his voice cracking.

Derek leaned back against the wall, crossing his thick arms over his chest, his smirk returning effortlessly. "Just getting to know each other better, Mrs. Khan."

Riya stood in the entryway to the living room, her eyes narrowing slightly as she scanned the scene. She was wearing a floral sundress that hugged her curves, her hair pinned up loosely, exposing her neck. She looked beautiful, but her expression was shrewd.

"Talking?" she repeated, stepping further into the room. She looked at Derek, then at Rohan, who was visibly trembling. "It sounded quite heated from the hallway."

Rohan opened his mouth to deny it, to make up a lie about homework or a video game, but Derek spoke first.

"We were making a deal," Derek said, his voice smooth and confident. "Rohan thinks I'm overstaying my welcome. We were settling it."

Rohan shot Derek a glare that could kill, but Derek just winked.

Riya’s eyebrows shot up. She walked over to the armchair and sat down, smoothing her dress over her knees. "Is that so? And what exactly were the terms of this... deal?"

Rohan felt his face burn. He couldn't tell her. If he told her they were competing for her respect, she would laugh at him. She would tell him he was being childish. "Nothing, Mom. It's stupid. Forget it."

"No, I want to hear," she insisted, her voice taking on a stern edge. "Derek? Tell me."

Derek pushed himself off the wall and walked over to stand near Riya, looking down at her with a charming smile. "Simple. Best of five challenges. If Rohan wins, I pack my bags and go home today. I never come back."

Rohan looked at his mother, waiting for her to scold Derek, to tell him that he couldn't kick a guest out. But she didn't. She just listened, her eyes fixed on Derek with an intensity Rohan had never seen her use with him.

"And if you win, Derek?" she asked, her voice dropping an octave.

"Then Rohan stops complaining," Derek said, turning his gaze to Rohan. "He accepts that I'm here to stay. He stays out of the way when you and I are hanging out. No more whining to you about how mean I am."

A heavy silence fell over the room. Rohan held his breath, waiting for his mother to explode. *How dare he!* he thought. *How dare he speak to me like that in front of her!*

But Riya didn't explode. A slow smile spread across her face. It wasn't a kind smile; it was the amused smile of someone watching a particularly interesting nature documentary.

"Well," she said, tapping her manicured fingernails on the armrest. "That sounds... fair."

Rohan felt like the floor had dropped out from under him. "Mom? Did you hear him? He said I have to stay out of the way! In my own house!"

"Rohan, hush," she snapped, then softened her tone as she looked back at Derek. "You know, I was just thinking this morning that Rohan lacks drive. He lacks that competitive spark that boys his age should have." She sighed, shaking her head. "He’s too passive. Always letting people walk all over him."

She stood up and walked over to Derek, resting a hand casually on his bicep. Rohan watched, his stomach churning, as she touched the bully who had made his life hell.

"A little competition might be exactly what he needs to toughen up," she said, looking Derek in the eye. "It’s good for a boy to learn his place in the pecking order."

"My place is your son!" Rohan shouted, his voice cracking with desperation.

Riya turned to him, her expression hardening. "Then act like it, Rohan. Instead of moping around in the basement, feeling sorry for yourself. If you want Derek gone, beat him. If you can't..." She trailed off, shrugging a shoulder. "Then maybe you deserve to step aside."

The betrayal cut deeper than any insult Derek had ever thrown. His mother wasn't just refusing to protect him; she was facilitating his humiliation. She was *enjoying* it.

"So," Derek said, clapping his hands together, the sound loud like a gunshot in the quiet room. "Do we have a referee?"

Riya laughed, a light, musical sound that made Rohan’s skin crawl. "I suppose I do. And since I know how... enthusiastic Derek can be, and how fragile Rohan is, we should set some ground rules."

She walked over to Rohan. She reached out and brushed a stray hair off his forehead, a gesture of maternal affection that felt poisonous now. "Don't be ashamed if you lose, sweetie. Not everyone is built to be an alpha. Look at this." She gestured to Derek’s imposing physique. "This is what a man looks like. If you can't compete with that, it’s just biology. It’s not your fault."

She turned back to Derek. "First challenge. Let's make it physical. Something to get the blood pumping."

Derek grinned, cracking his knuckles. "I was thinking arm wrestling. Right here, right now."

"Perfect," Riya beamed. She walked to the coffee table and cleared off the magazines, creating a flat space in the center. "Come on, Rohan. Sit down. Show me what you're made of."

Rohan stood frozen in the center of the living room. He looked at the table, then at Derek’s massive, hairy arms, and then at his mother’s excited, expectant face. He realized then that there was no way out. She wanted this. She wanted to see him broken.

"Sit down, Rohan," Riya commanded, her voice leaving no room for argument.

Slowly, mechanically, Rohan walked to the table and sat down. Derek sat opposite him, his grin predatory, his eyes locked on Rohan’s face. Riya stood beside them, hovering over the table like a referee at a title fight, her eyes shining with a disturbing light.

"one who wins gets a kiss from me ,Ready?" she asked, placing her hand over theirs. "Set. Go."