Beneath The Lies

by Sapna Bhog

  Leo takes her small bag and holds the door open for her.

  Aaliya walks up to Mike and gives him a peck on the cheek. “Thank you for everything.”

  An embarrassed blush creeps up his cheeks.

  “Keep him safe, please,” she tells him.

  “On my life, Ma’am,” Mike replies.

  And then, with a last look at me, she steps into the waiting elevator. A tear rolls down her cheek as the doors shut on her.

  Damien

  The late afternoon sun shines on my face through the huge glass windows of my father’s study in my London mansion. The haunting memories of this place are far too many to count. Growing up, these rooms were my father’s sacred sanctum and always off-limits to me. As a child, I was only called to the study to get a scolding for some transgression that David had imagined I’d done against him or to lecture me on my wild ways as I grew older. My father never raised his hand on me, but words can be cruel and the memory of his harsh words has haunted me till this day. Once I was old enough and no longer dependent on him, I happily ignored most of his summons.

  And now, I sit here, in his chair, in his study, as lord of everything. I laugh aloud at the incongruity of it. Fuck! God has a sense of humor, after all!

  This is the first time I’m visiting the London mansion since the charity auction ball. It’s been a week since Aaliya left and I’ve nothing to do this weekend. Nothing is the same without her. I was so complete one minute and now there’s this huge gaping hole.

  She came like a storm into my life, destroying the gloom, taking away my misery and filling my soul with happiness. Her laughter echoes in my house, her fragrance lingers on my sheets, even her red shawl lies where she left it, draped on a chair in my bedroom.

  You are my journey and you are my destination. All my roads will always lead up to you.

  Her words continue to resonate inside me. They sound familiar, like I have heard them a million times, like I have spoken them myself. But that doesn’t make any sense to me and no matter how hard I pressurize my brain into remembering, nothing surfaces. My headspace is blank and now my heart is empty too without her.

  We speak on the phone or video chat several times a day. Everything is stable at her end and she promises to return soon.

  There’s a knock at the door and Mike comes in. “Are you ready to begin, Sir?”

  I’ve finally decided to take the bull by the horns. I have to find out if my father or brother had any clue that someone was after them. And so, today, we are finally starting with my father’s study in the London mansion.

  Mike and I get to work immediately. I search through every drawer and every cupboard while Mike empties every book from the library shelves and looks through the pages for anything hidden. I read through every paper I find but there’s nothing.

  I turn to Mike. “Anything?”

  He shakes his head in the negative.

  After three hours of nonstop searching and going through every nook and corner of the room, we still come up empty-handed. I sink into my chair, holding my head in my hands.

  Questions pour through my mind. Why is someone so angry with my family? What did my father and brother do and why am I being targeted? I have no clues and only dead ends. I was so certain my father would have some kind of a hidden place in his study. But there is nothing.

  Letting out a guttural roar, I grab hold of the porcelain horse from the desk and am about to hurl it when Mike raises his hand to stop me.

  “Sir,” he says urgently. “There’s something at the bottom of that horse.”

  Frowning, I turn the horse and find a tiny key lodged at its base.

  A spark of hope surges inside me as I pull it out. Mike and I look at one another and immediately begin opening all the drawers of the desk once again. I toss things hither and thither, knocking at the base of each until I reach the last drawer at the bottom of the desk and there, I hear a hollow sound as I knock.

  The base of the drawer slides open as I push on it and below it is the hidden compartment I was sure my father would’ve had. The key fits correctly inside the lock and the drawer opens to reveal a stack of papers and files.

  Mike steps aside as I scan through portfolios of foreign bank accounts hidden from the taxman and properties bought across the world under various company names I have no recognition of. I’ll need to share these with Mike at some point to help me sort it all out, but I keep all those documents aside for now. Finally, the last file gives me what I want—threat messages similar to the ones I’ve received.

  You all will pay for what you’ve done

  Your sons deserve to die and so do you

  I will kill you all…soon

  The Kittridge line will cease to exist.

  “Holy Mother of God!” My hands shake as I knot them on my head. It is true. My suspicions were right. They were being threatened. But by whom and why? Did Celia or my mother know? Fuck! Had I conspired with them on anything? I shake my head. No! I cannot imagine that scenario at all. I can’t imagine agreeing to do anything wrong.

  Just as I hand the letters to Mike to take a look, there’s a knock on the door and Celia strolls inside.

  “Damien, how lovely to see you,” Celia says with a huge smile.

  I turn to Mike and give him a nod. He immediately files the notes and steps outside.

  “Celia, give me a moment, please.” I subtly put the remaining documents back in the hidden location I found them in and close it shut.

  I stand up. “So, what can I do for you?”

  Celia is living here with my mother, so it’s no surprise that she is in the house, although I had hoped not to bump into her for the sake of my own sanity.

  She looks around the chaos in the room and her nose wrinkles.

  “Find what you were looking for?” she questions with a raised brow.

  I ignore her query and ask one of my own. “Did David ever think he was in danger? Do you know if anyone was threatening him?”

  Her eyes round. “You think someone was after him? To kill him?”

  I take a deep breath. “I don’t know, Celia. I have my suspicions.” I give a dismissive wave of my hand. “Anyway, did he ever discuss any of that with you?”

  She takes several steps forward and stands in front of the desk.

  “David never discussed anything with me ever. On most days, he barely tolerated my presence and I was more than happy to be away from him. We were the perfect couple in public, but in reality, I hated him.”

  “Then why were you still with him?” This question has bugged me since that morning in the coffee shop when she told me bits of her time with David.

  “Because your father wished it. You see, David always knew that you and I were friends. He came after me that summer when you and I were dating. He was charming and fun and I fell for him.”

  “And he was going to be the Duke,” I scoff, irritated that her side of the story is twisted to her convenience because we were definitely more than friends at one time.

  “Yes, that too, I accept. But then you disappeared and no one knew where you were. Soon, David started showing less and less interest in me. He was rude to me in public and in private he was worse…”

  Her voice trails off making me imagine the horrors my monster of a brother must have put her through. Several years back, David had taken a fancy to one of the new maids who worked at Heaven’s Gate. A week after she joined, the maid was found molested and beaten black and blue. My father covered up the entire issue and nothing further of the sort was ever reported again. Hearing Celia makes me certain my father has brushed several of David’s misdeeds under the rug.

  “I tried to leave him.” She sighs. “I tried. But my father was unwell and he owed your father a huge amount of money. Your father wanted me as David’s wife. I had the right pedigree and upbringing, you see, and so I had no choice but to accept meekly unless I wanted to see them destroy my father. Thankfully, David never pushed the marriage between us. I knew
he was cheating on me on the side and it was fine, absolutely fine, as long as he left me alone. And then he died. I may sound horrible to say this, but it was a relief for both my father and me to hear that.”

  “Why are you still close to my mother? She doted on David,” I press further.

  My mother could never see beyond David and so it boggles my mind how Celia is so close to her.

  “Your mother has always been kind to me. She tried to talk to David several times on my behalf, but David never listened. It’s not her fault he was who he was.”

  I disagree with Celia because my parents made David the person he was. They spoilt him rotten and allowed him to get away with anything. Thus, he grew up with the belief he was better than everyone else. But that is not a topic I wish to debate with her. If she has a good relationship with my mother then far be it for me to interfere in that equation.

  I round the desk and reach her. “Celia, I don’t know what to say. I did not know about your father’s debt, but I will ask Peter Dighby about it.”

  That man perhaps knows every atrocious thing my father and brother have done and it’s rather surprising he hasn’t mentioned this to me.

  “I’ll write off the debt, Celia. I swear it. No matter the amount. You won’t have to live your life in fear anymore. You can live the way you want with whom you want.”

  She gives me a sad smile. “Don’t you see, Damien? All I want is you. I made a mistake with David. I left you for him and that was my biggest sin. I have paid tenfold for doing that to you. So, please give me another chance.”

  I shake my head. “Celia, I’ve told you this before that what was between us was over long back. You need to move on.”

  She folds her arms in anger. “Like you’ve moved on with that Indian girl? You’re making a mistake with her. You can’t trust her. She’s a liar and a cheat. She…”

  “Enough!” My anger is swift. “I will not tolerate you insulting the woman I love.”

  My eyes widen at my angry declaration. Fuck! I’m in love with Aaliya. I love her. I love Aaliya!

  My heart literally stops for a moment before it starts beating once again with renewed energy. I don’t know when I fell for her. Was it first time when she snapped at Gabe on hearing I was a Duke and how that was relevant to her? Or was it one of those times when she made me apologize for being arrogant to her? Or is it simply because of her and the strong, sharp, innovative and perceptive woman she is? Now that I finally accept I’m in love with her, I’m certain I haven’t truly loved anyone else like I love her.

  The connection between us had been instant and over time our bond has only grown stronger. I love her and I can’t wait to tell her when I see her again. Hopefully, she will return soon and we can be together.

  “If you won’t believe me then I need to show you,” Celia says. She opens her bag and lifts a manila envelope and hands it to me. “Open it.”

  “Celia…”

  “Please, Damien, open it.”

  Photographs come tumbling in my hand as I empty the contents of the envelope. They are pictures of Aaliya. She’s in a park, Hyde Park I recognize from the lake, and there is a little boy with her. There are so many pictures of her and the boy. My heart pounds as the next picture I see shows Gabe holding the boy in his arms and Aaliya gazing at them with a smile.

  “What the fuck are these?” I yell. My brain is screaming for me to accept the one thing my heart is absolutely refusing to do. Instead I ask her, “You had her followed.”

  “What choice did I have? I suspected she was up to something the moment she so easily left with you at the charity auction. And each time I met her after that only confirmed my suspicions, so I hired someone to keep an eye on her. She returned last evening.” Celia points at the pictures. “These were taken a few hours ago.”

  What the bloody hell? Aaliya is in town and she hasn’t called me! We chatted via text messages last night and she didn’t mention even once that she was here. In fact, she said she’d be here soon. How could she do that? When did she return? And what the fuck is going on between Gabe and her? My mind swirls and swirls as a red haze settles on my eyes.

  “Have you not noticed the closeness between Gabe and that girl? You’re one of the sharpest people I know and yet you let them fool you? Don’t you know that Gabe visited India several times in the last years for business? Haven’t you seen how fond he is of her? And why has he brought her here now, just when you are back? Why not before? Why has he kept her hidden?”

  Her words are like acid to my brain. All the doubts and insecurities I have regarding my lost memory flow like a current through me. Is this something I’ve forgotten? Was Aaliya involved with Gabe at some point? Why did they lie to me? Did they lie to me? My eyes drift to the pictures. The boy has the same dark hair like Gabe, the same coloring, but he looks like Aaliya.

  “I hope you see the truth and come to your senses, Damien,” Celia says, quietly walking away, leaving me alone in the study.

  Aaliya

  “He’s sleeping so soundly. The little scamp has tired himself out,” Jonathan says from my side. “He is truly adorable, Aaliya.”

  I give Jonathan a wan smile and turn to Gabe as the three of us stand around my son’s cot.

  “I’m going to tell Damien. I have to. There is no choice now.”

  I returned late evening yesterday from Mumbai along with Rian. That day when Jasmine had called to tell me Rian had high fever and they might have to admit him to the hospital, my world had shattered. Nothing else mattered in that moment more than me reaching him. That journey back home to India was one of the most difficult experiences of my life. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, not until I held my baby in my arms.

  Rian’s health improved speedily the moment he laid eyes on me. He clung to me for a long time and his fever came down within hours. In two days, he was fit as a fiddle. It was quite miraculous and the doctors put it down to tremendous separation anxiety from both his parents. He clings to me more than ever now. I did not have the heart to leave him again and I couldn’t stay with him either so I brought him to London with me. I wasn’t going to be separated from my son again.

  “I know you don’t like that I had to bring him here, Gabe, but I couldn’t leave him behind.”

  Gabe strokes Rian’s cheek gently. “I know, Aaliya. We have to tell him. I just hope that Damien understands.”

  I leave a soft light on in the room and we retire to the living room. Both Gabe and Jonathan have been a big help to me. They fetched me from the airport yesterday and have taken turns to be with us most of today. Rian’s been quite jet lagged and cranky and a lot of the day has gone by in getting him settled. Gabe insisted that we take him out to play for a bit to tire him so he could sleep early.

  I run a weary hand down my face as I stare at my unfinished plate of the take out meal I ordered for the three of us. How am I going to break it to Damien that I’m his wife and that we have a son? Will he believe me? God! What if he doesn’t?

  I swallow against the lump in my throat and push my plate away. Jonathan gives me an understanding look from across the table and without saying a word, takes my plate and heads to the kitchen. Gabe follows him and I hear the water run and the sound of dishes as the boys clear up. Unable to sit, I frantically pace the living room, walking up and down the narrow space, my mind visualizing various conversations with Damien and the numerous possible outcomes.

  “Relax, Aaliya.” Gabe’s voice breaks into my thoughts. “We will make it work. We will make him understand.”

  “This is all so fucked up!” Jonathan perches on the sofa opposite me. “Gabe, she should have told him long back. It was wrong to keep this from him.”

  “I thought I already explained my reasons to you,” Gabe storms, walking up to him.

  Jonathan stands to face him and points a finger in his face. “And I told you then also that it’s fucked up!”

  Gabe narrows his eyes “Don’t be a dick, Jonathan.”


  They start arguing back and forth, hurling abuses at one another, making my head spin.

  The two of them are like the devil and the angel on each of my shoulders. I have had this conversation of telling Damien versus not telling Damien in my head so many times and now it’s all too late to do anything.

  Finally, I’ve had enough of their bickering.

  “Stop it, both of you,” I say loudly, giving them each a sharp look. “It’s too late now to fight on this. What’s done is done.”

  Jonathan shakes his head. “Fine. I don’t need to like it though. I’m going to get something to drink.” He marches towards the kitchen, sulking with each step that he takes.

  I sit down on the sofa and my hands fly to my face. The hollow pit inside my stomach is growing by the second.

  I finally turn to Gabe. “I’m so scared of Damien’s reaction, Gabe. I hope he listens to me. He messaged me last night and I hated I had to lie to him and tell him I haven’t yet returned. Because had I told him I was here, he’d have insisted on meeting me immediately, and that wasn’t possible. It wasn’t possible to leave Rian, even with you. You know how he’s clinging to me.”

  Gabe comes closer to sit beside me and pats my arm.

  The doorbell rings, startling both of us.

  “Have you ordered anything else?” I ask Gabe as I stand to open the door.

  “I’m not the one with the sweet tooth,” he says playfully. “So, what have you ordered? I do hope it’s not cheesecake though. Ugh! Aaliya, please tell me it’s not cheesecake!”

  His cheerful teasing lightens my mood and I laugh. “I don’t know of a single person other than you who doesn’t like cheesecake. You are weird, Gabe!”

  I open the door and the smile dies on my face as I see Damien standing on the steps outside.

  “Damien,” I gasp in shock. “What...” I stutter.