by Ruchi Singh
"Now I'm not even fit for a glance, let alone an inane conversation."
Her eyes jerked back at him. What was wrong with him? He had been ignoring her the whole evening and now—
"Why didn't you wear that dress?"
"Can't accept a gift from you."
"Why not? Who bought this one? Nick?"
She frowned. "Why will he? I bought it."
He relaxed and smiled. "It would have looked good on you." He placed both her hands on his shoulder and slid his on her waist, pulling her even closer. "Wear it the next time we go out."
She stiffened, air thick with their accelerated breaths.
"It's futile. Give up." His breath fanned her cheek as his thumb slid inside her top and caressed her back.
She was sure he could hear her heartbeats. Eyebrows furrowed, she glared at him. He grinned, causing her to almost give in.
"Go with the flow, we can't fight the chemistry between us. God knows I've tried—" His gaze flickered.
She turned to see what had captured his attention, thereby ending her torture.
Viraj stood at the bar, arguing with the bartender. Someone held his arm and another man tried to catch hold of his hand, in which he brandished a glass that was half-filled with pale yellow liquid.
Her gaze skimmed the hall and rested on their table where Karisma sat glaring at her drink. Catching Esha's glance, Nikhil smiled and winked. Thankfully the music ended and Vikram allowed her to step back.
"Meet me tomorrow at the gym, six a.m.," he said and escorted her back to the table.
Esha braced herself to get some flak from Karisma. She was sure that after that dance, she would have to face the jealous lover. Karisma was not like Urvi. She was a smart woman and couldn't be taken for granted.
"Where did you say you worked before joining Seth Industries, Ms. Sinha?" Karisma began the interrogation on the expected lines.
"Delhi."
"Where in Delhi? Which organization?"
"Why the sudden shop talk?" Nikhil intervened. "Let's dance. Karisma, come on. Do me the honor." He pulled Karisma's hand and shepherded the reluctant woman to the dance floor.
"Have something interesting other than that sparkling water," Vikram drawled. "Shall I—"
"I'm fine. Excuse me." Esha decided to spend the next few minutes in the washroom instead of sitting alone with him. Washrooms were so convenient at such times for a woman, she thought dryly.
"Running away?" Vikram drawled as soon as she stood up. He was an incorrigible, single track man. No wonder he succeeded in most of the things he did.
Somehow, she clung to her composure and made her way to the washroom. The mirror showed an image totally alien to hers. Her eyes looked tired and wane. Her skin had a moist sheen and her lips trembled. Nothing seemed in control. Taking a deep breath, she splashed cold water on her face and dabbed at the clinging droplets with a paper napkin. She hoped that the worse of the evening would be over once they moved to the dining area. With Karisma on the table, he would not dare to flirt with her.
She remained in the opulent, stone-cold room as long as it was decent, then stepped out only to find herself face-to-face with Karisma.
Eyebrows raised, Karisma stepped forward, causing Esha to step back into the washroom again.
"Since when has this been going on? And how can you two be so close, so soon? How did you manage to get into the inner coterie?"
"Perhaps you should direct this question at people who led me into that coterie?" Esha decided to be aggressive, a tactic that helped evade any honest answers, answers that she couldn't afford to give.
"You think you are pretty smart, don't you?" Karisma curled her lips. "I'll have you out of the company soon."
'Get in the line.' The thought almost made her smile. Esha sighed and stepped around Karisma to move out of the confined place and awkward situation. It was a relief that Karisma didn't pursue her.
Trouble had brewed at their table.
As she walked into the hall, she found Viraj in a heated exchange with Vikram. It was not an exchange in real sense, because Vikram goaded Viraj simply by not participating in the discussion. Esha hurried towards their table when Nikhil stood up suddenly.
Esha was a table away when Viraj grabbed a bottle from a passing waiter's tray and smashed it on the table. He jabbed it at Vikram. Everything happened in micro-seconds. Alarmed, she rushed even as Nikhil tried to intervene, who was pushed back by Vikram. Viraj attacked Vikram again with the jagged edge of the bottle. But before Nikhil and the waiter could pry him away from the table, the damage had been done.
Droplets of blood from the wound rolled down Vikram's arm, while some fell on the table. The blow had done serious injury since he had taken off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt after the dance. Nikhil and the waiter pulled Viraj out of the hall.
"Are you all right?" she asked, checking his wound for any deep cuts or glass shards in the wound. The gash was long but she couldn't find anything to be alarmed about.
"Yeah..."
"It's not deep but I think we should get it examined. I have the doctor's number. I'll call him on the way."
The captain stood worried, apologizing profusely, muttering about calling a doctor, and asking them to step into his office.
"Let's go," Vikram said declining his help, as he accepted the cotton gauge from the captain and pressed it on the wound. Esha tied his handkerchief over it. Nikhil, who had taken Viraj out, was still not back. Picking up Vikram's jacket, she contacted Jay to meet them in the hotel exit and followed him out.
"Oh my God, what happened? Was that Viraj with Nick, I saw?" They remembered Karisma when she screeched, pulling at Vikram's arm. "Hell, did he do that? We should call the police. Do you need stitches?"
"May be. But it's nothing to worry about," Esha said.
"How do you know? Move aside. He needs a doctor. You'll definitely need stitches. Look at the amount of blood!"
"Oh, for God's sake stop the theatrics. It's nothing," Vikram snapped as they entered the elevators.
But that didn't stop Karisma from overreacting and showing how much she cared. She dialed Vikram's mother and sister's numbers and broadcasted the news.
Esha was in touch with Nikhil, who followed them in the second car after handing over a much stoned Viraj under the care of his driver.
The doctor was already there when they arrived home. Nikhil asked Karisma if she wanted a drop home. She gave him a stony look and didn't leave Vikram's side. Once assured that Vikram and the premises were secured, Esha retired for the night. There was no point in hovering in the living room since his mother and sister had arrived too.
What an evening, Esha thought when she made it back to her room. She picked up the dossier on Viraj and re-read the key summary points she had jotted down. This was the second time he had attacked Vikram.
Viraj had quite a few points against him but she hadn't pegged him to be a killer or hire someone for the same. Although she couldn't deny that he did have a motive—a very strong motive. He would get his freedom if Vikram was not in the picture. But no one, who wanted someone murdered, would gather so many witnesses to his hatred. Even if he was taking someone's help, even if he hired someone, he wouldn't reveal his intentions the way he did tonight.
Though Viraj wasn't off her list of suspects, Esha hadn't considered him a serious threat either. But after tonight's episode, she knew he had to be put somewhere on the top of her list. She added her thoughts in his file in the margins.
* * * *
October 13th
Suburbs, Mumbai
13th October, 4:30 AM
He meticulously lifted the hair on the trap door and went down the stairs. Cleaning himself, he sat in front of Kaali Maa's idol and began the blood ritual.
And the monologue began.
After each of his unsuccessful attempts, Vikram's aide, that Nikhil, had tightened and changed the security and the protocols. He wasn't able to break anything or an
yone. All the guards were well-paid and firmly under Nikhil's control. He was running out of options.
However, Viraj's temper and his violent outburst, the night of the dinner, had given him the fodder to think from another perspective. Could this be another red herring that could give him the required cover for another attempt?
'Could this be a sign from you Maa?'
He looked up into the eyes of the ferocious, unmoving statue, but couldn't look into her eyes for more than two-seconds. Her austere persona terrified yet consumed him. He focused his gaze at the devil crushed under her feet, wishing he could crush the Seths like that. He silently pleaded to Maa to talk to him, to guide him, but she remained silent.
He suddenly remembered that he should be meditating and picked up the rudraksh string. He shook off his thoughts about his enemies and concentrated on the rituals that would make his mother happy.
"Om Krim Kaaliaaye Namah!" he chanted as he sifted a bead through his fingers. The itch to kill the bastard became stronger with each rudraksh bead that passed through his fingers.
He concentrated on the light from the lamp filtering through his eyelid and pictured his maker on the canvas of his mind. Sara's face appeared instead. Tears flowing down her cheeks, pleading to take revenge on her behalf. He had vowed to avenge her honor and inflict wounds on the enemy as no one else could, but the satisfaction had eluded him. The justified hate had consumed most of his life. Maa was still to grant him their wish. What had gone wrong in his devotion and penance, he often wondered
In the materialistic world, money played a significant role too. In fact, it was a game changer. Everything needed money, which they had in plenty and he didn't have any. No one was supposed to prosper like the way they had, while his Sara had suffered.
He had to succeed. Sara had entrusted this responsibility on him. To destroy them. To avenge her. To inflict upon them the kind of grief no one had ever experienced.
His fingers touched the soft silk thread that indicated that he had come to the end of the necklace. He realized, however, that he had stopped chanting the mantra somewhere in between. Lost in his thoughts when did he stop the chanting? This had never happened! His eyes flew up to Maa. Her gaze now had anger mixed with pity. His courage sank to the pit of his stomach.
The mobile rang. The ring stopped after five seconds. He connected using one of the unregistered SIMs.
"Mahajan has spoken to someone at the car parking in Delhi and that man has given him the name of the girl."
"Is it so?" he asked.
"Yes."
He stood silent, contemplating the repercussions.
"Aren't you bothered?"
"That has been taken care of." He disconnected the call.
For once he felt ahead in the game, but the next moment it came to him that the years of preparation for the Delhi attack had all gone down the drain. It had taken him six months of recce to zero on Debbie because she was in the flesh trade and yet secretive and emotional. Then another three months were wasted to befriend and fool her to do his bidding. It had taken him immense control to mask his disgust when he had been with her. All that sacrifice and torture had gone down the drain.
A noise from one of the speakers from the room above alerted him.
Sara was awake.
* * * *
Seths' Residence, Mumbai
13th October, 7:00 AM
Esha was ready by seven and entered the bungalow through the kitchen. Kishore dada was busy arranging a breakfast tray. "They are on the terrace."
Looking at the number of plates in the sink, it seemed like Vikram's mother, his sister, and Karisma had stayed the night.
"Don't bother, I'll have my breakfast here in the kitchen."
She didn't go to meet Nikhil or Vikram. There was no need. With all his well-wishers around him, her presence would be perceived as awkward, given that it was also a Sunday. She was just an employee after all and a temporary one at that.
After having her breakfast, Esha went back to her apartment but a strange restlessness stuck to her soul and refused to subside.
An hour later, she saw Karisma drive off. A constant stream of visitors kept arriving and leaving. Esha picked up the unfinished novel and tried to immerse herself in the story, but nothing helped. Finally, she took off to see Mumbai city.
She roamed around, taking a local train or an auto, and finally arrived at Marine Drive after three hours of aimless wandering in the streets of the financial capital of the country.
The sea looked calm and quiet, with tides gently lapping against the man-made stone boulders. Esha felt as lonely as the sea. Surrounded by everyone, yet no one for a real companion. Never had her solitude been so pronounced. After that obligatory call home that she had arrived safely, she had not spoken to her mother. Her younger sister had called once for money, which she had transferred that same day. No one called her without any need. If she died, no one would come to know for days. For this very reason, she had kept specific instructions in a sealed envelope in her personal effects so that they won't be missed.
As she took in the sea whirling on the shores, and nearby sites, a familiar figure interrupted her musings. A cold wave prickled the hair on her nape, which reminded her of the visit to Jindal's office.
Koel stood on the other side of the road with a man on a motorcycle, who looked like the guard she had seen in Jindal's office. The one in the uniform at the gate. Though he wasn't wearing the uniform today, he looked like the same person. Esha wasn't sure. If he was the same person why was Koel talking to him? Koel with her lofty standards meeting a mere guard, that too from Jindal's office.
The man handed Koel a packet, then drove off. Nikhil had to be informed about this.
Her phone pinged pulling her out of the troubling thoughts. 'Be there at dinner. Tonight.' Vikram had ordered.
Instead of feeling offended at the high-handed tone of the message, she found herself smiling. There was someone who wanted her, even if it was for all the wrong reasons. She chuckled at the thought. Her loneliness vanished without a trace. If nothing else, she would have this memory of the day when she was pitying herself and one message from the mighty Vikramaditya Seth Jr., the most influential 'Indian of the Year' had lifted her spirits. Goddamn! What could be more pathetic than that, Major Esha Sinha? She snorted and hailed a cab.
* * * *
The whiff of cigarette assailed her the moment she entered the dining room. The whole room was shrouded in darkness except the table that had a candelabra holding five huge candles sitting at one end of the table. To her acute panic, there were only two covers on the table. Where was Nikhil? She had expected him to act as a much-needed buffer.
"You look as fetching in a skirt as in a pair of jeans." The voice came from somewhere near the buffet table to her right. Vikram stood there holding a bottle. "I've decided that we'll some have red wine." He shook a finger when she opened her mouth. "No, don't object. I have to make up for yesterday. Viraj ruined everything last night. I owe you a nice relaxing dinner." His left arm was bandaged and in a sling and he used only his right hand.
"You don't owe me anything. And why are you using a sling?" Esha frowned. As far as she could see, there was no damage to the bone last night.
"You don't know?" An eyebrow went up. "You have been so callous with me, Major. Taking off without even bothering to enquire about my injury. It's quite serious." He tilted the bottle towards her. "Please do me the honor of opening this."
"There was no damage to the bone last night. I had examined it." She deftly uncorked the bottle and smelled it. The wine was a deep red and perfect. "Would you like to taste it or shall I pour?"
He smiled and shook his head. "I love the way you work. Precisely, with minimum fuss. Let me take it from here." He moved towards the dining table where the wine glasses were kept, along with the three-course meal on the warmer at the center. Having missed her lunch, Esha suddenly realized that she was quite hungry.
"I'll not dri
nk."
"Why not?"
"I'm not in the habit of drinking with my employer."
He took a deep breath. "For a while can you forget that I'm your employer? Forget everything. Please. Just remember that we are two attractive, single people having the hots for each other." He caught hold of her glance and somehow she couldn't look away.
Her lips twitched at his words. It was funny to hear someone praising themselves so honestly and earnestly. It took some effort to control her smile.
Watching her all the time, he took a sip and brought their glasses to the dining table.
"What should I do to make you relax and smile?" He lifted his spoon. "And don't tell me you are a serious person. I have seen you with Nick."
Her phone rang just then. It was an unknown number. She swiped with her finger to answer the call but her finger slipped and the phone went on to speaker mode.
"Hello..."
"Esha, I can't live like this." The familiar voice was slurred and came over the din of high bass music.
"Samar?" She glanced at Vikram. He was clearly miffed at the interruption.
"Esha, I have to see you... I need you..." She hurriedly kept the spoon down and switched off the speaker mode.
Excusing herself with a shrug, she moved to the window at the far end of the room. "Where are you?"
"Esha, can you imagine I'm at my bachelors' party? I can't go through this... I don't love her. I love you."
"Samar, it's been two years," she hissed.
"Yes, I know. But I can't commit to her. I don't feel anything for her."
"This is ridiculous. You are drunk. Everything will be all right in the morning."
"Esha, please."
"I have moved on, Samar and you should too." Esha disconnected the call. She could have been sympathetic but it would have made him more persistent. For all she knew, he might not even remember he had called in the morning. It was for the best. Taking a deep calming breath, she turned from the window and found Vikram watching her with keen interest.