Bound by Hatred (The Singham Bloodlines Book 2)

by MV Kasi

  Dev knew his older brother didn’t mind being left home. In fact, Dev knew Abhay must be in the huge Singham library with his nose buried between old and musty books.

  Dev didn’t mind being left behind as well because it meant he could listen to more of his grandmother’s stories.

  “Fine,” Dev said with a sulky pout. “Then tell me another story,” he demanded.

  With a laugh and then a kiss to his forehead, his grandmother told him another story. He had heard it before, but he wanted to hear it again and again.

  The story was just about to get to the most exciting part when a loud knock interrupted them.

  His grandmother’s maid entered inside with tears in her eyes.

  “What is it, Sitamma?” his grandmother asked.

  “Devasena… we just got—” The woman broke into sobs. “Vijay and Arundhati—” The woman kept sobbing.

  “Dev, I’ll be right back,” his grandmother said and led her maid outside.

  A few minutes later, his grandmother was back. She looked shaken. “Dev, I have to go out urgently,” she said. “I promise I’ll finish the story later. I’ll send someone to stay here with you. When Abhay returns, tell him I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  Dev didn’t protest.

  He waited in his room for a few minutes, and then he became restless. Seeing his normally composed grandmother look so shaken, he wanted to know what had happened.

  Getting down from the bed with shaky legs, he went towards the door and peeped outside. He didn’t see anyone, but he could hear loud wails and shouts coming from downstairs.

  He slowly sneaked down without anyone noticing and went to the entrance. Several cars were driving away from the mansion. He saw a few more that were taking people from the mansion to some place.

  He opened the door to one of the cars and slipped into the back and hid under a seat.

  When the car stopped after a while, Dev waited until the driver and the man sitting next to him left the car.

  The first thing he noticed when he opened the door and got out of the car—was the flames. The once golden shrine of the temple was filled with ash and flames that almost reached the sky.

  The next thing he noticed was the hundreds of bodies that lay on the ground, some of which were burned. The smell was so strong and vile it made Dev throw up.

  Feeling shaken, he walked among the bodies where several people were sitting next to them, wailing loudly.

  Dev stopped when he saw a familiar piece of almost burned cloth covering a half burnt body. He recognized the bright red cloth with a gold border that his mother had worn that morning.

  “Oh God!” a woman wailed. “They killed them. Our Arundhati and Vijay and even our Rana! How could they do this!”

  “It’s all because of this dog!” another woman said, kicking a dead body of a man lying near the feet of his mother.

  Dev just stared at the bodies of his mother and father. He could barely identify the body of his younger brother since it was burned beyond recognition.

  “Dev!” He heard his grandmother’s voice. “Oh my god, Dev,” she said and hurriedly picked him up, turning him away from the sight of his parents.

  Dev saw that his grandmother was crying. Tears ran down her red-rimmed eyes. “Who got you here? You are not supposed to see any of this.”

  Dev closed his eyes at the memories of what his seven-year-old eyes had seen that day. By the time his grandmother had found him standing next to his parents’ bodies, it was too late. Those images were forever imprinted in his brain.

  He hadn’t ever told Abhay what he had seen or even that he had been to the place where the massacre happened.

  On that particular day twenty years ago, Abhay had remained in the library the entire day until their grandmother gently broke the news to him that their parents were gone forever because they had died in an accident.

  Dev hadn’t said anything at that time. In fact, he had been so shocked and traumatized by what he had seen, he wasn’t able to speak a word for nearly six months after the massacre occurred.

  Through the years, he had suffered from nightmares and was prone to violent outbursts where he took out his aggression on other people for even the simplest of mistakes.

  He had always fantasized about wanting to kill the people who had taken away his parents and most of his family from him.

  But unfortunately, the people directly responsible for the death of his family had also died in the massacre.

  Dev shook his head and blinked rapidly to clear the red haze that formed in front of his eyes.

  He realized that his phone was ringing and answered it.

  “Dev, are you okay?” Abhay’s voice asked from the car speakers.

  “Yeah. I’m fine. I just remembered I had to go to the site for an important meeting.”

  There was a loaded silence. Dev knew his brother didn’t believe that excuse, but fortunately, Abhay didn’t demand an explanation.

  “Come home soon,” Abhay said softly.

  “Yeah, I’ll be back in the evening.”

  Ending the call, Dev continued to drive towards the site.

  Over the years, even though he had several opportunities, he hadn’t told Abhay about what he had seen as a child. He wanted Abhay to remember their parents like they were before they had gone to the temple. Not the bloody and half burned mess he had seen.

  Dev reached the site. The first person he saw there was Sabitha Prajapati—daughter of the man who killed his mother and was responsible for the massacre.

  Giving her a hate-filled look which she returned in equal measure, he strode into his office where he was determined to get through the project planning and set-up as soon as possible.

  CHAPTER 11

  “Dev?”

  Dev looked up from the documents in front of him when he heard the familiar soft voice of a woman.

  Anika Singham, his sister-in-law stood in his home office, watching him with an uncertain look instead of her usual smile.

  “What’s up, sis?” he asked.

  Slowly, Anika’s face eased into a smile. “Dev, I need to talk to you about something. Well, I wanted to discuss this before with you, but I wanted to do it in person.”

  Dev put aside the documents in his hand and stood up to lead his sister-in-law to the cushioned chair next to him. It had been over a week since Abhay and Anika had returned.

  “Sure. You can talk to me about anything. How is my brother treating you these days?” he asked.

  Dev knew Abhay and Anika had fallen in love. The glow on Anika’s face and the constant looks his brother threw at her made it quite obvious.

  “Abhay is fine. Just a little overprotective. I have to keep reminding him I’m a practicing medical doctor, and that I already know what is safe or unsafe for our baby and me.”

  Dev smiled. He knew his brother quite well. Abhay was as controlling as one could get. He had become that way since he had to take on the responsibility for the Singham province at an early age.

  And not only that, but there was also the fact that Abhay had to take the responsibility of his wild younger brother who had been out of control most of the time during his childhood and until recent years.

  “What did you want to talk about?” Dev asked.

  Another look of uncertainty passed over her face. Dev had realized that even though Anika had the Prajapati eyes, looking at her, didn’t agitate him. Anika’s sweet smile had a calming effect on everyone near her.

  Whereas whenever he saw her eyes…

  “Dev… I’ve heard things have been uncomfortable and tense at the construction site. I just wanted to see if I can help ease that tension a little bit.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked with a small frown. He knew Anika was right. Even though the work was progressing well, there was a palpable tension among the people at the site.

  Anika took a deep breath. “I know you hate my cousin, Sabitha. I just wanted to see if I can help ease the tension
between you both—”

  His frown grew in size. “I appreciate you trying to help me, Anika, but it’s not something anyone can do or say to help. There is too much history—”

  “Exactly,” Anika interrupted. “I think everyone is behaving the way they do because of the history. But I want you to know that I dug up a few things that might question some of the things that were spread as facts.”

  Dev was quiet. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to discuss any part of the past. But since they had been on the hunt for Raidu, the past was featuring a major role in their lives.

  “Such as what?” he asked.

  Anika watched him closely. “I don’t think Sabitha’s father, Harshvardhan Prajapati murdered your mother,” she said softly.

  No, he was definitely not equipped to handle that part of the past. Dev got up from the chair. “Anika, I appreciate—”

  “Please hear me out completely, Dev, and come to your own conclusion after I finish.”

  Dev knew Anika was embroiled in their past as much as Abhay and him, trying to trace Raidu, and also to find out what had happened at the temple twenty years ago.

  “Alright, go ahead,” he said softly.

  She pulled out a paper from a leather-bound book and gave it to him. “This is one of the many letters Harshvardhan wrote to your mother before and after she was married.”

  Dev frowned. “What are you implying, Anika?” he asked.

  “I’m trying to say that Harshvardhan Prajapati was in love with your mother, although your mother just treated him as a good childhood friend. They grew up together in neighboring provinces and met each other on several occasions. Harshvardhan Prajapati loved your mother deeply. He even wrote her letters and sent them to London, wishing her happiness each time she had a child. I don’t think a man like that is capable of killing someone he loved so much in such a coldblooded way.”

  That information threw Dev off completely. He reluctantly took the letters from Anika’s hands and read through some of them.

  “Maybe he was the kind of person who thought if the woman he loved didn’t belong to him, then he would make sure she didn’t belong to anyone else.” Even as he said that, Dev realized there was no conviction in his voice. The person who had written such letters didn’t seem like a zealous lover. He sounded more like a soft-hearted well-wisher. However, he didn’t want to believe the sincerity of the letters. What if it was a farce to make his mother think or even trust Harshvardhan Prajapati?

  “Maybe my uncle was the zealous kind,” Anika replied gently. “But there is the possibility he wasn’t that way and the letters were written from his heart. Which means there is possibility he wasn’t the one who killed your mother. If your hate towards my cousin is due to the fact of who her father was—”

  “It’s not,” he interrupted. “It’s not just because of who her father was.” Or at least not completely. Too much had happened between the both of them for it to change into personal hatred.

  Anika nodded. “I just hope you will be able to forgive and forget some of the blame placed on my uncle when the truth comes out.”

  He was quiet, but he eventually nodded.

  “Thank you,” she said with a small smile. “And Dev,” she said in a gentle tone. “I just want you to know that sometimes, those who pretend they are cold-hearted and emotionless… are the ones who are protecting the biggest hearts. I know it from my personal experience.”

  Dev nodded once again, understanding how Anika had initially thought Abhay didn’t care for her.

  Dev’s grandmother had said that Abhay was more like his namesake, Abhimanyu Singham. He had a lot of love on the inside, but was guarded and reserved on the outside. Dev was apparently more like his father. Dev wore everything on his face and even as an adult, he hadn’t hesitated to hug or kiss his grandmother whenever he greeted her.

  Despite having a short temper and a wilder nature, Dev was more demonstrative when it came to affection. Even though he had only been seven when his parents had passed away, he recalled many cherished moments he had spent with them in London. He recalled how his father always smiled at his mother, kissing her tenderly on the cheek or simply touching her in ways to show he cared. Vijay Singham was a man who hadn’t been afraid to show his love and affection towards his family. Both Arundhati and Vijay Singham had been physically demonstrative with each other and their kids.

  “I think my cousin is guarding a big heart, too,” said Anika. She bent forward and affectionately kissed Dev on his cheek before leaving his office.

  Although, Dev couldn’t just simply give Harshvardhan Prajapati the benefit of doubt based on a few letters, Dev slowly began to think and view his past interactions with Sabitha. He realized that from his end, he had been driven by hate mostly because of who her father was. Sabitha Prajapati had simply been reacting to that hate.

  However, Anika was wrong about Sabitha. Dev didn’t think Sabitha was cold-hearted or emotionless because she was protecting her heart. Sabitha was that way simply because she was cold-hearted and brutal because she was heartless.

  CHAPTER 12

  Sabitha was standing at the construction site, monitoring the progress. Her mind wandered to the phone call she had received an hour ago.

  Another lead.

  It was an address in another city. It wasn’t the first time she had received an address from the investigators. Like each time, even though she knew the probability of becoming disappointed was quite high, hope filled her heart. She pulled out and clutched the pendant of her waist chain, rubbing the small silver heart softly.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by loud shouts. A crowd had gathered and they were leaning over the safety railing, looking at something in the water below.

  “What’s happening?” Sabitha asked Dhruv who was standing next to her.

  She went towards the commotion.

  “I’m not sure, madam,” Dhruv answered, following behind her.

  When she went closer, people noticed her and made way for her. And then she saw it.

  A woman was caught in the rapids of the river. That morning, they had opened one of the dam gates to let the water partially into one of the canal channels that had previously been dug.

  They had taken every possible safety precaution while planning the project. Despite that, how the hell the woman fell into the water, she had no clue.

  “Find a long rope and bring it quickly,” Sabitha instructed.

  The woman was still conscious with her head above the water. She was flailing her arms, calling for help.

  People watched as the woman kept going under the water each time.

  “Who was in charge of the safety today? Give me the name whose head is going to roll tonight.”

  Everyone watched Sabitha nervously, but did not give a name.

  “Madam, the woman’s name is Durga. She’s from our province. We heard that she had been telling someone this morning she wanted to collect a few pebbles for her son. She might have gone in and slipped under.”

  Hell, the woman had a child. How could she be so foolish to risk her life for some stupid pebbles?

  “Where is that rope?” Sabitha barked out as she watched the woman helplessly.

  “They are trying to find one that is long enough, madam.”

  “Well, ask them to bloody hurry up! And take it down to the shore rather than the bridge,” she instructed.

  People looked nervous. Both the Singhams and the Prajapatis, including her, didn’t know how to swim. Only because most of them were born when there was a bloody drought with barely any water body to dip into, let alone swim.

  The only water body was the Singham Lake which was also one of the most dangerous places in the province as it was the volatile border between the Singhams, Prajapatis and Senanis.

  Just when she saw someone carrying a rope and heading towards the shore, there was a loud splash behind her.

  Someone had leaped into the water from the bridge.

  She watched i
n disbelief as the person began to swim towards the drowning woman.

  She couldn’t see his face clearly as it was getting dark, but she could make out that it was a man, and he swam with powerful strokes against the rapids.

  He reached the woman in no time and dragged her up the water, keeping her head above the surface. Wrapping a hand around her now limp body, he began to swim using one hand.

  “Don’t just stand there like imbeciles. Throw the bloody rope into the water,” Sabitha shouted from the top as people gawked at the sight.

  The rope was thrown, and after a few tries, the man grabbed it.

  Ten minutes later, the tall, muscular form of Dev Singham appeared on the shore, dripping and carrying the unconscious woman in his arms. He placed the woman gently on the ground and began to pump her chest, performing CPR. A few tries later, the woman coughed and threw up the water she had swallowed.

  The doctor stationed at the construction site took over. He was checking the woman’s vitals and speaking with her. By the time Sabitha went down the steps to the shore, Dev Singham was walking away towards the office building while several men of his fussed around him.

  Sabitha turned towards the woman lying on the ground, still looking pale and weak. She wanted to snap at the woman for being so foolish and taking such a bloody risk, but her words died when her eyes fell on a small knot on the woman’s sari that the woman was clutching.

  Sabitha saw the smoothly rounded pebbles through the wet cloth that the woman had collected for her son.

  “Make sure she’s dropped home and given proper rest for the next week,” Sabitha instructed. Then frowning, she walked away to speak with the Project Managers regarding the safety protocols.

  Shit, I’m becoming a weak fool.

  For some reason the sight of the woman still clutching the bloody pebbles moved her.

  Thirty minutes later, after ripping apart the managers who were in charge of safety, Sabitha went to the office building.

  Standing outside a room, she paused for a few seconds to take in a deep breath.