18. OS 19. His Elusive Lover (Part 18)

                                                          HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Part 18

Arnav dressed for dinner, his mind filled with plans and strategies to nail Shyam.

The bullet had been shot by a sniper who had taken position in the empty mansion adjacent to his. His detectives had found Sinha’s residence broken in to and had found footprints on the steps leading to the terrace. He had contacted the Commissioner and given him the details and pressed on him the need for confidentiality and secrecy.

Arnav stood before the mirror, his eyes on his image, but his mind on Khushi. 

What if the bullet had hit Khushi?

His eyes grew cold as ice, his fists clenched, his whole body tensed and his muscles coiled tighter than steel wires.

No, that was not acceptable.

He turned to look at Khushi in her room through the open connecting door.

She was asleep, her hands curled up under her chin, her body in a foetal position. Her unbound hair lay spread on the white pillow like a waterfall. Long lashes shielded her lovely eyes. The pinkness of her plump lips owed nothing to artifice. Her plump cheeks looked as soft and pristine as a baby’s.

She screamed innocence, purity, all that was good in the world. She trusted him. She, a sheltered, young, naive, inexperienced girl, trusted him so much that she had asked to leave the door between their bedrooms open.

He swallowed hard.

And he was putting her in danger to trap a rat like Shyam! The extent to which he had imposed on Khushi and put her life in peril struck him keenly. He looked away, ashamed of himself, feeling contempt for himself. He ought to let her go home to her family, free her from this dangerous game.

But Shyam? He had to be dealt with.

He drew in a deep breath. The game was in its last stage. It was better to see it through.

He turned and walked into Khushi’s room to stand by her bed.

“Khushi,” he called.

She woke up with a jerk.

“Arnavji?” she asked, sitting up and brushing hair out of her eyes.

“It is almost time for dinner,” he said quietly.

Her face paled.

“I am going down now,” he said tonelessly. “You get dressed and wait in my room. I will send HP to call you. Khushi, come down only when HP knocks on the door to my room.”

“Ji,” she agreed, not understanding what was going on.

He looked into her anxious eyes.

“Trust me,” he said quietly.

“I do,” she said directly, immediately, without even a moment’s thought.

He looked down at his hands. What wouldn’t he give to strangle Shyam till he died!

The PI called. Arnav left the room to take the call.

                                                                      ***

His family was gathered in the living room.

As Arnav walked up to them, Shyam asked, “Saalesaheb, you are all alone? That’s a rare sight these days. Tut tut, where have you misplaced your darling Khushiji?”

Anjali laughed at her husband’s wit.

Mami muttered, “Hello Hi Bye Bye, I bill crush you under my six-inch heelwaa,” under her breath.

“Ghatiya aadmi,” nani fumed in a whisper.

Akash clenched his jaw to stop himself from saying what he thought of Shyam and mama’s eyes showed the utter contempt he felt for Shyam.

“I am glad that all of you are here. I need to talk to you about something very important,” Arnav said, his eyes on mami, nani, mama and Akash who had already been notified of the events to unfold.

They nodded at him.

“Arre bhai, what is this? An announcement? Should we be scared?” Shyam asked, trying to sound funny and genial, but his eyes revealing his frustration and anger at the failing of his plans.

Arnav ignored him and went on, “Somebody tried to kill me today.”

All gasped.

Shyam squirmed. He had expected Arnav to hide the incident from his family.

“Tum kya keh rahe ho, Chotey?” Anjali asked, her big eyes wide with fear.

“The truth,” Arnav said shortly. “A sniper shot at me and narrowly missed me.”

Shyam frowned. “Really, Saalesaheb? Are you sure you didn’t imagine it?”

The whole family glared at him, with the exception of Anjali.

“The police thinks I didn’t,” Arnav said wryly.

Shyam gulped. “You informed the police?” he asked, his heart in his mouth.

“Of course,” Arnav said easily. “They have identified the sniper as Munna Shehzad and hope to arrest him by tomorrow.”

Shyam sat frozen in his seat.

“The police are sure that once they interrogate him, they can arrest the mastermind behind the murder attempt. Munna is just a killer for hire, a tool,” Arnav said, cool as a cucumber.

Anjali lowered her head and rested her forehead on her hand. “My head is spinning, Chotey. What is happening in our house?” she asked.

“I would like to know who that coward is,” nani said sternly.

“I bill beat him with a brooms dipped in gobar. How dare he looks at hamre Arnav bitwaa!” mami raged.

“Who can it be, bhai?” Akash asked. “Our rivals are businessmen, not killers.”

“The police will find out soon,” Arnav said.

“I hope he gets a death sentence,” mama fumed.

“Chotey, we need to hold a pooja,” Anjali said. “I will call our family priest. There is an evil force out to destroy our family and only God’s grace can save us.”

“As you wish,” Arnav said. “There is one more thing. I have decided to transfer my property to Khushi.”

All gasped. Anjali and Shyam were genuinely shocked. The rest of the family played along.

“I gave Akash half of everything I owned when he joined me in business,” Arnav said.

All nodded.

“Yejj, you did,” mami agreed.

“I gave di everything I intended to give her when she got married,” Arnav continued. “Houses, car, jewellery and money.”

“Sahi keh rahe ho, Chotey,” nani said. “You have given her more than enough.”

“As my life is in danger, I think I should transfer everything I own to Khushi immediately. Who knows if I will survive the next attempt? I may not make it to the mandap to marry her,” Arnav said seriously.

“Sahi keh rahe ho, bitwaa,” mama said. “If something happens to you, Khussi bitiya will be left destitute.”

Shyam couldn’t see, hear or speak. Outraged at how his life was falling apart, vexed at the thought of all the money that should have come to him going to an upstart like Khushi and filled with indignation that he had put up with a nagging lame sister of a billionaire for nothing for three years, he sat there, wanting to burn down the house. He needed time...time to think and plan. His scheme of finishing off Arnav had backfired. If Munna was arrested, it would terminate his game. Munna would confess and that would be the end of everything he had planned for three years. And now Arnav was giving away his wealth to Khushi?

“Saalesaheb,” Shyam protested, “I think you are being hasty here.”

All looked at him, their eyes revealing varying degrees of misgiving, wariness and skepticism.

“You should sleep on this, think it through. What is the hurry? Giving away all your money is not to be done lightly,” Shyam said, panting, struggling to row against the current, flailing his arms and legs desperately to hang on to the wealth.

Arnav frowned. “How am I giving it away?” he asked. “I am giving it to my wife-to-be.”

“Yes, but what is the guarantee that Khushiji will stay by you. She is an outsider, not your family. I think, Saalesaheb, you should transfer it to a family member. Someone you can trust. Someone like Rani sahiba...” Shyam suggested, frantic.

The whole family smiled, seeing his desperation. Only Anjali nodded.

“Shyamji is, as usual, right, Chotey. You aren’t married yet. What if Khushiji takes your money and runs? We have to protect the family wealth,” Anjali said. “You must listen to Shyamji. His shatir lawyer brain can’t go wrong.” She simpered at her husband.

Arnav lifted one brow. “Family wealth?” he asked. “It is my personal wealth. I worked hard for it. I didn’t inherit it.”

“Bhai is, as always, absolutely right,” Akash said. “He worked for every rupee and has the right to give it to Khushiji if he wants to.”

“What if she tricks him, Akash?” Shyam and Anjali were vociferous in their protest.

“Then we will live with that betrayal,” nani stepped in. “We have put up with worse.”

Shyam gulped.

“Khussi bitiya is no crook. She is a sanskaari girl who cares a great deal for hamre Arnav bitwaa,” mama asserted.

“Those who hab jaundice bill see yellow eberybhere,” mami declared.

“Jijaji, don’t worry about bhai’s welfare. If Khushiji, as you seem to fear, runs away with bhai’s wealth, I will return everything that bhai gave me,” Akash said firmly.

Mama and mami nodded.

“I bill gib hamre Arnav bitwaa all the goldwaa he bought for me,” mami announced.

“And all the money he has invested for us,” mama said.

“And all the land he has bought me,” nani added.

Shyam could feel beads of sweat on his forehead. Munna would be arrested tomorrow. And he had about twelve hours before Arnav transferred his money and property to Khushi as the document had to be drafted, checked and signed.

Arnav had to die tonight. Shyam nodded thoughtfully. Yes, Arnav had to die tonight.

“My bhai started with nothing. He built a billion dollar business solely through his hard work and business acumen. He can do it again,” Akash asserted. “We stood by him then. We will stand by him now and always.”

“Chotey,” Anjali opened her mouth to express her doubts about Khushi, but was interrupted by the doorbell.

HP opened the door.

Aman stood there with a briefcase in his hand.

“Aman, come in,” Arnav called. “Sit down.”

Aman sat between Arnav and Akash, placed his briefcase on the table and opened it to take out a file.

Shyam had a very bad feeling about this. His wife voiced the question he wanted to ask.

“What is this?” Anjali asked sternly.

“The document transferring everything I own to Khushi,” Arnav said simply.

Shyam stared at Arnav, seeing the end of all his plotting, all his dreams of becoming rich.

“Here, sir,” Aman said quietly, placing the document and a pen before Arnav for his signature.

“Bring Khushi down to join us. Immediately,” Arnav called out to HP.

“Yes, Arnav bhaiyya,” HP said, making a quick way up the steps.

“Everything is in order, Aman?” Arnav asked softly.

“Yes, sir,” Aman replied.

Arnav began to read the document silently.

Shyam looked at Arnav and at the smiling faces of Aman, nani, mami, mama and Akash.

Fear and fury waged a battle within him.

Munna would be arrested soon. A casual glance at his phone records and his confession would indict him, Shyam Manohar Jha. Creditors were hounding him and all his hopes of getting his hands on Arnav’s money were going down the drain.

“Chotey, I think you should reconsider,” Anjali said.

Shyam sent a baleful glance her way. She was the cancer eating away at his good luck, the parasite drinking his blood, the nag who just wouldn’t quit. He was so tired of her.

All looked at Anjali.

“Khushiji is a stranger. She is not part of our family,” Anjali insisted.

Nani said with a smile, “So was your Shyamji till he married you. Khussi bitiya will become part of our family when she marries Chotey.”

Anjali was silenced.

Shyam grit his teeth.

Khushi came down the steps, dressed in a beautiful designer saree in peach.

Arnav looked up and met her eyes. She smiled at him.

Her eyes fell on Aman.

“Amanji,” she greeted him, thrilled to see him. She folded her hands and greeted him fondly, “Namaste.” Her delight in seeing her only friend was apparent to the audience.

Aman stood up and returned the greeting with a fond smile. “I came to get ASR’s sign on a very important document,” Aman said.

Before Khushi could respond, Shyam stood up hastily and shouted, “It is a conspiracy!”

All looked at him, shocked.

“Khushi is in cahoots with this sneaky Aman, Saalesaheb and they are out to fleece you. They will beggar you!” Shyam shouted.

Aman’s jaw hit the ground. Khushi looked at Shyam as though he were mad.

Arnav quietly signed the document.

Shyam snatched the paper from him and tore it into pieces. “How dare you!” he shouted. “How dare you give away your wealth to this girl, Khushi who is little better than an escort?”

Escort? What was that? Was it a new name for secretary? Khushi wondered. What wealth was he talking about? She stared at Shyam, wondering if he had gone mad.

The Raizadas had to exert great self-control not to knock Shyam down.

Arnav alone was relaxed and unperturbed. He watched the proceedings with a calm air.

“Shyamji is right. Khushi is not your family. We are,” Anjali insisted.

“She is immoral, just a piece of fluff. And you are going to throw away your fortune on her? I won’t let this happen,” Shyam insisted.

Khushi looked at Arnav.

He nodded slightly, giving her the green light.

“Whom are you calling immoral?” Khushi asked Shyam, tucking the end of her pallu in her waist, ready to do battle.

“You, Khushi!” Shyam bit out. “You may be good at giving khushi between the sheets to many men, including your Amanji and Arnavji and then pretending to be all virtuous and sanskaari. You may be able to fool the doddering idiots in this house, but you can’t fool me.”

Khushi took a deep breath and began giving the sleazebag what he deserved.

“I don’t have to pretend to be virtuous and sanskaari because I am both. But you have to pretend. You have to pretend daily to be a good husband, a good jijaji, a good damadji, even a good human being. Because you are not. You are a louse,” Khushi said, not mincing any words.

“Chotey!” Anjali shouted. She jumped up from her seat and moved towards her husband. “How dare Khushiji accuse my husband and insult him?”

Chotey sat watching the performance, his eyes and full attention on Khushi.

“Chotey, aren’t you listening to me?” Anjali asked, angry and exasperated.

“I am,” Arnav said evenly.

Khushi looked at Arnav.

He let his lashes fall to cover his eyes for a moment and then he looked straight at her.

Khushi read the sign right.

She continued, “You are a worm. Besharam, behaya aadmi! You are married to Anjaliji and living in her house, at her brother’s expense and you come knocking on my door at night? Shameless rogue!”

Anjali gasped.

“You low class girl! Just because you charmed Chotey into giving you a life, don’t think you can insult us,” Anjali shouted. “We know what you are.”

“Rani sahiba, what is the use of talking to kachra like her?” Shyam asked.

Nani made to step forward, but mami caught hold of her. “Bait, Saasumma, remember what Arnav bitwaa said,” she whispered.

“If I am kachra for working for a living, then what are you?” Khushi asked, her eyes raining fire. “Living like a parasite in your wife’s house, cheating on your wife with other women, asking for money from your saala....” Khushi bent and took her jooti in one hand. “I was hoping for a chance to do this,” she said before hitting Shyam on his head with her shoe. “You... will... try... to... kill...Arnavji, you rascal?” she asked while hitting him.

Shyam tried to protect his head, but to no avail. She was too fast for him.

“Chotey! She is mad!” Anjali screamed, trying to protect her husband. “Nani, mami, Akash, mama...”

No one lifted a finger.

Arnav sat back enjoying the rare scene of some one fighting his battle for him.

“He... works... all... day... and... night... and you...live... off him...and...then try...to kill him?” Khushi was merciless in her attack. “You... are ungrateful...you scoundrel...you... ghatiya aadmi...”

“And what are you?” Anjali asked, furious tears streaming down her face.

“You are Arnav’s mistress!” Shyam screamed.

The shock loosened Khushi’s hold on her jooti and the battered footwear fell to the ground.

“Mistress?” Khushi asked in confusion. How could she be Arnavji’s mistress? She didn’t own him and nor was he a dog or a cat for her to possess.

“Yes, rakhail. You are no better than a prostitute,” Shyam declared triumphantly.

“Yes,” Anjali seconded him.

Khushi’s mouth fell open.

Arnav sat with a clenched jaw and curled fists, waiting his turn. His eyes were on Khushi’s pale face. All the other Raizadas except Anjali were glaring at Shyam.

“How hurt my Khussi bitiya must be,” nani agonised.

“I bill kill that cockroach,” mami threatened.

As they watched, Khushi burst out laughing.

Arnav relaxed.

Trying hard to control her hilarity, Khushi gasped, “You don’t know Arnavji... Keep me as a rakhail? Him?” She chuckled. “Such...a decent man....so honourable....This is what you think of him?”

When she managed to get her amusement under control, she told Shyam and Anjali, “All men are not like you, Shyam Manohar Jha. And your brother is a far better man than you know.”

Shyam snorted. “So says a woman of loose morals.”

“If Chotey hadn’t insisted, I would have never let you set foot in this house,” Anjali fumed.

“It is his house, isn’t it?” Khushi asked, perplexed. “He wanted me to work for him. I did. That’s all.”

“Work!” Shyam said derisively. “Is being his mistress work to you?”

Anjali sniffed and looked away.

Khushi said quietly, “I would rather be Arnavji’s mistress than your wife, Shyam Manohar Jha.”

All gasped.

“I pity you from the bottom of my heart,” Khushi told Anjali. “You have a terrible man for your husband, a scumbag, a dirtball and a criminal. And you are blind to his lecherous ways, his greed and his evil intentions towards your brother. I hope Devi Maiyya shows you the right path and protects you.”

“Chotey!” Anjali screamed. “Khushi is insulting us.”

“You insulted her more,” Arnav said easily.

Khushi abandoned her fallen jooti and moved to stand by Arnav.

His phone rang. He answered the call, cut it and then said, “Badhayi ho, Shyam. The police have Munna and he is singing like a bird.”

Shyam froze. He had hoped to have some time to recoup.

“What?” Anjali asked, bemused.

“Your husband, Shyam Manohar Jha, hired Munna, a sniper to kill me,” Arnav explained.

“That’s a lie,” Anjali protested.

“Tell that to the police,” Arnav said.

The doorbell rang.

Shyam jumped.

“It is not the police, jijaji,” Arnav said sardonically. “Not yet.”

Aman opened the door and let in a middle-aged man and two women.

The older woman, built like a man, was in a colourful but cheap polyester saree. The eyes in her chicken pox-marked face were alert. The younger woman was in a cheap pink and blue lehenga, the dupatta covering almost nothing of her chest. Her rough brown hair was sprayed and set into impossible curls and her nails were painted a garish pink. Her eyebrows were drawn in an impossible arc. The curve of her thin lips was enhanced by the use of low quality, pink-orange lipstick and her teeth were paan-stained. Her skin looked coarse due to the regular use of cheap cosmetics. Though in her late twenties, she looked to be in her mid-thirties.

Shyam was rooted to the spot, his wide eyes looking wider, like the eyes of a prey hunted by a predator.

“Let me introduce Mangesh Pedgaonkar, an excellent private investigator working for me on an important case,” Arnav said. “Who are the ladies with you, Mangesh?”

“This is Billo Rani, an escort from Lucknow. With her is Malini, her pimp and protector, who runs the escort service and manages the cash book,” Mangesh explained.

“Why has he brought such women into our house, Chotey?” Anjali asked, furious beyond control. “Isn’t it enough that we have been living with your Khushiji?”

Billo Rani saved Arnav the effort of answering his di. She said, after pushing the wad of tobacco from one cheek to another, “Yeh, saali, haramkhor! Turning up your nose at us! And that too after stealing my husband! Teri baal noch loongi.”

All gasped.

“Chotey, yeh sab kya he?” nani asked faintly.

Mami helped her into a chair and whispered, “Hamre Arnav bitwaa bill manage, Saasumma. I am seeing the lightwaa at the end of the tunnelwaa.”

“Husband?” Anjali asked, a look of disgust on her refined face. “I steal your husband? You must be joking.”

“Hum kauno jokerwaa laage he tumhe?” Billo Rani asked, spitting paan juice on the marble floor at Anjali’s feet.

Anjali jumped a few steps back.

“Yeh he humre pati parmesswar, humre Chintu ke papa!” Billo Rani claimed, pointing at Shyam.

All stared at Shyam, their mouths open, except for the detective and Arnav.

“Hum pet se the, tho Malini jiji ne Shyam babu se kaha, saadi kar lio. Naahi to gardanwaa pe sar naahi honge. Ye humse saadi banaye. Aur mahine do mahine mein aate bhi the. Lekin hamri phooti kismet! Ye kalmui ne hamre pati parmeswar ko udda liye,” Billo Rani complained, pointing at Anjali.

“This is a lie,” Anjali whimpered.

“Is this a lie, Shyam?” Arnav asked.

Shyam looked like the rat he was, cornered by many cats.

“Keh dio, jamai babu,” Malini invited, her voice strong and manly. “Is Billo lying?” She flexed her muscles and clenched her fist. “Did you marry Billo?”

“Yes,” Shyam whispered, terrified of Malini.

“Shyamji!” Anjali screamed.

“Are you Chintu’s papa?” Malini asked.

“Yes,” Shyam said, a scared look at Anjali.

Anjali collapsed. Akash and mama helped her to a chair.

“How long ago did you get married?” Arnav asked Billo Rani.

Billo counted on her fingers and said, “This Diwali it will be five years.”

Anjali wept bitterly.

“Was the wedding conducted in a temple?” Arnav asked Billo.

Malini answered him, her shrewd eyes on Arnav. “Yes. I made sure it was legal so that he didn’t weasel his way out of his responsibilities. It was hard enough to get hold of him and persuade him to do the right thing by Billo. So I made sure the shaadi was watertight.”

“So that makes my di’s shaadi to him null and void,” Arnav said. “Nani, Shyam Manohar Jha is no longer your damadji.”

“Thank God!” nani exclaimed.

“He has been living with us for the most part of three years. Do you want to take him with you?” Arnav asked Malini.

“Yes,” she replied. “He hasn’t visited us in six months. Nor has he paid his son’s school fees.”

Arnav said softly, “It might be better if you leave him here. The police will arrest him soon for trying to kill me.”

Billo hit her head with her hand and sat down on the floor, bemoaning her fate. 

“What a husband have you given me, my God! Faithless, irresponsible and a criminal! My poor child!” She suddenly looked up. “He tried to kill you?” she asked Arnav.

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Anjali’s brother,” he replied.

Billo drew in a sharp breath. “You tried to kill your saala?” she asked Shyam, shocked.

Arnav smiled wryly.

Malini threw a look of disgust at Shyam. “Even a dog is grateful if you feed it once. You are the worst, a mere keeda from a dirty naala.”

“Jiji, I don’t want him. My son will grow up without a father,” Billo told Malini.

“Yes, that’s better,” Malini agreed. In a surprise move, she stretched her hand out and slapped Shyam as hard as she could make it.

Shyam fell on the floor.

“Hum chalte hein, saheb,” Malini addressed Arnav.

“One minute,” Arnav replied. He whispered in Aman’s ear. Then he told the ladies, “Please go with Aman.”

Aman and Mangesh led Malini and Billo Rani away and Aman handed over a cheque for five lakhs to the women.

“Saheb, so much money! For us?” Billo Rani could barely believe her eyes.

“Take care of your son,” Aman said. “Sir knows that you are a victim, just like his sister.”

Malini said in a tear-choked voice, “Once Shyam leaves this house, prosperity will return. Phir bhi, I am blessing your sir. May he be happy always. May good things come to him. May God reward his kind heart that can sense our pain.”

As Malini, Billo Rani and Mangesh left, the police arrived.

17. OS 19. His Elusive Lover (Part 17)

Part 17

Shyam was angrier than he had ever been in his life before. He could make holes in a brick wall with his fist; he could burn down the world with his glare.

Arnav hadn’t credited money in Anjali’s account yet. His creditors were threatening him. How dare they demand their money from Shyam Manohar Jha! And as if these were not enough, Anjali was nagging him about staying away from Khushi and Arnav. The way things were playing out, his fantasies about Khushi had little chances of becoming a reality.

No.

Failure was not an option for Shyam Manohar Jha.

He smirked.

His opponents were puny humans who thought they could pit their will against him and win.

He cackled.

When he could get his hilarity under control, he hissed, “First Arnav. Then his money. Then Khushi.”

                                                               ***

Arnav sat working in the garden. Wind ruffled the leaves of trees, played with the surface of the pool and sent the fragrance of flowers wafting.

Khushi stood at the glass door leading from his room to the garden and looked at his weary face.

“Arnavji, tea?” she asked.

He looked up. “Yes,” he mumbled.

Khushi went to her room to make it.

Arnav rubbed his forehead.

Shyam had left the house in the morning citing urgent work. So Khushi was safe till he returned. The PI was digging deep and he was sure they would have solid proof against Shyam. And then this game could end.

Khushi walked across the bedroom with the mug of tea and made to step out into the garden.

Arnav leaned forward to get up so that he could take the tray from her.

A bullet whizzed past Arnav’s shoulder and shattered the earthen urn holding pink azalea.

There was a moment of perfect silence.

The tray fell to the ground. The mug cracked and the tea wet the cobblestone.

“Arnavji...” Khushi screamed and ran towards him. He caught her hand and quickly pulled her into the security of his bedroom.

“Arnavji,” she whimpered.

His arms opened.

She fell into his embrace as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

He held her as she sobbed her fear out, her slender arms trying to encompass all of him, gather him into her embrace, protect him. Her hands ran all over his back, checking he was fine, reassuring herself that he was unharmed.

“I am fine,” he said softly.

“Someone...someone...” she couldn’t continue.

“Tried to kill me,” he completed.

“Yeh...yeh sab kya ho raha he?” she asked, distraught, confused. “Someone is trying to kill you over the Paris business deal? Sach mein? For money?”

Her arms tightened around him.

“For money, yes. For business deal, no,” he said firmly.

She looked at him, her eyes wet, her body snuggled close to his, never wanting to be apart from him.

“Shyam,” Arnav said quietly.

Sheer shock loosened her arms. She stood next to him, weak, shaking, her gaze filled with disbelief.

Arnav caught her by an elbow and helped her sit down on his recliner.

She bit her dry lip.

“Sshhh,” he comforted her, his fingers rubbing her elbow for a second before letting go.

He moved away to sit on his bed.

“Arnavji...your own jijaji....” Tears fell fast and furious, her mind unable to comprehend the extent of betrayal.

“Yes,” he admitted. “Shyam met my sister at a temple three years back. In fact, she stumbled and he caught hold of her arm and saved her from falling. It was apparently love at first sight. When di spoke of marriage, I suggested she wait and know him more, but she was adamant. She insisted on a quick marriage. I gave in.”

Arnav lowered his head.

Khushi sat still, listening to the normally reticent man talk, pour his heart out. Tears wet her cheeks.

“We should have sent her to stay in his house, but we were so protective of her and worried for her that when Shyam suggested that she stay here, we agreed. We gave her jewels, money, houses. I pay a monthly allowance into her account. I pay all their bills. I even pay for the petrol he fills in the car I bought for di.”

He sighed.

“Shyam used to stay away frequently using his work as an excuse. I felt something was fishy and employed a private investigator to look into his activities.” He looked at his locker. “I have the photos of him with various women. They are gross.”

Khushi gasped.

Arnav nodded. “Yes, he is a scoundrel through and through. He tricked di into marriage, making her believe he loved her. In reality, he loves only money. My money, to be exact. He imagined that I would remain a bachelor all my life and that di would inherit my wealth when I am gone. I didn’t pay di’s monthly allowance this time and refused to buy him a house in Delhi. I also gave him the impression that I may marry. This bullet was meant to kill me so that he could get his hands on everything before I married,” he said, leaving out Khushi’s role in this mess.

“Arnavji, the police,” Khushi suggested, holding her trembling hands together on her lap. “Your life is at stake.”

Arnav’s lips twisted. “Di believes her husband can do no wrong. I showed her a few of the photos and she refused to believe me. If I call the police on him without proof, he will turn things around and brainwash her against us.”

Khushi gulped. “What can we do now?” she asked, scared.

“I will increase our security cover,” Arnav replied. “Khushi, take a nap. We will have to go down for dinner in a few hours and sit across from Shyam.”

“Ji,” she whispered, slowly getting up from the recliner and walking to her room. She stopped at the connecting door and turned to look at him. “Woh...may I leave the door open?” she asked, scared to shut the door between them.

He looked at her for a moment, his gaze intent and then nodded.

                                                                  ***

Shyam was in a royal funk. Anger lurked beneath the surface. The killer he had hired had missed Arnav and now he was demanding money for a job not done! He was worse off than yesterday. Things weren’t going his way and when things didn’t go Shyam Manohar Jha’s way, he saw red.

“Shyamji...” Anjali cooed. “How do I look in this saree?” she asked, preening.

He grit his teeth and clenched his fists. He wanted to choke her with her saree, tighten the noose around her neck till her bleating ended. The useless lame sister of a billionaire who wasn’t even good for money!

“Kya hua, Shyamji?” she asked, limping closer to him.

He stood up so fast that the chair fell back. “Work...” he muttered, leaving the room.

Anjali pouted. “Yeh Shyamji bhi na!” she said aloud. “He never has time for me.”