Chapter 7
Khushi looked at the name of the building, and then at the envelope in her hand. Yes, this seemed to be the right place.
He felt along her arm expertly, and Khushi winced. "Ouch!"
He looked at her briefly as he felt her arm. "The pain is here," she muttered, pointing with her other hand to her elbow. "I think I might have pulled a ligament, or something."
“I’ll give you something … a painkiller,” he said. his face was calmer, less harsh suddenly. His voice too, was gentler. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
She shook her head. “I have something at home,” she said almost inaudibly. “I’ll put some anti-inflamm … some gel. It’ll be okay.”
ASR looked at her. "You seem to know what you’re talking about," he commented. It was a question more than a statement. The hardness had left his face slightly and Khushi looked at him directly, somehow not so fearful now.
Khushi looked at the name of the building, and then at the envelope in her hand. Yes, this seemed to be the right place.
Her
instructions had been clear – deliver the envelope personally to Mr. Raizada, and wait for an answer. Don’t return without meeting him and
making sure he reads the letter. Otherwise, it would be goodbye to her
job and house arrest for her. And she knew her brother would carry out
his threat, maybe with a beating thrown in for good measure, depending
on how drunk or sober he was. He had even rung up the hospital himself,
to ask her supervisor for the afternoon off for her. She really had no
choice.
She entered the lift and
pressed the button for the thirty-first floor, holding the envelope
carefully. She looked around her as the lift rose - it had glass walls,
and she could see herself rising into the air. It gave her a heady
feeling, and she smiled, as she watched the people scurrying around
below, looking as small as ants.
She
came out of the lift into a plush, carpeted corridor. The whole floor
seemed to be occupied by one office, and she entered the glass automatic
doors, as they whooshed open for her.
An
elegant secretary looked up at her, and she offered the letter hastily,
glad she had taken time to look her best. In these pristine
surroundings, she felt out of place. How had her ragamuffin brother ever
worked here? She wondered, and then remembered that he had been at the
factory, not at this plush office. He definitely would have been out of
place here, she thought, with an inward chuckle.
The
secretary rang an internal number, and then looked at her. "He's busy.
You don't have an appointment, do you? You can leave it with me, if you
like. I’ll see to it that he gets …”
“No,” said Khushi hastily. “I need to give it personally. If that’s all right,” she added.
The secretary looked at her again, this time more closely. However, she was obviously too well
trained to show what she thought.
“You'll have to wait, then," was all she said.
Khushi
nodded. The secretary nodded to the sofa, and a pile of magazines, and
Khushi made good use of both. There was a whole pile of reading material,
which was a good thing. Khushi had not had time to read for a long time,
and Mr. Raizada was obviously going to make her wait.
She
waited for a long time. Nearly four hours. She was getting restless,
and trying to decide whether to go home and risk her brother's wrath,
when the inner door opened, and another elegant creature, twin to the
first emerged.
"Miss Khushi? We're
sorry to keep you waiting for so long. You didn't have an appointment,
and ASR has been extra busy today. Please come this way. Sara," this
to the secretary, "Boss said you may go, but come in early tomorrow. He
has an 8 o'clock meeting with the Singapore group."
The
other woman nodded, and prepared to leave, as Khushi's escort took her
through the inner corridor, into a set of rooms. She knocked at the door
of one, and opened it for Khushi.
Khushi
entered the office, and looked around her wondering. It was a huge
room, fully carpeted in a dark maroon pile, with an oversized sofa and
two chairs at one end, and a large desk at the other. Pushed against the
wall, near the desk and next to the window, was a beautiful rosewood
cabinet, and a man was standing at it, with his back to her, apparently
going through some papers.
"ASR, Miss Gupta is here."
"Right,
Diana, thank you. You can go home too, but remember we have an early
start tomorrow," he replied, without looking around. "Come in, Miss Gupta, and please take a seat. Sorry to keep you waiting. Just give me a
minute please," he added.
Diana nodded at Khushi, and went out, closing the door behind her. Khushi went in hesitantly, and stood by the chair.
Arnav Singh Raizada took a long time to turn around, and when he did, he seemed
surprised to see her. And puzzled. Not very flattering, thought Khushi,
with an inward grimace, considering he had examined her very thoroughly
just the previous evening. She waited for a minute or two, as he looked
at her, obviously trying to place where he had seen her before.
"Khushi," she said, helpfully. "Shyam's sister. You came to our house yesterday. To threaten Shyam," she added, without emotion.
He looked at her more closely then. His gaze raked her from head to toe, and his eyes narrowed.
"So
I did," he said softly. "So I did. Well, well, well. I thought he
didn't think himself threatened sufficiently. Apparently, I was wrong.
He's scared enough to send his … what was it? … beautiful, young,
untouched sister to me. Well, well, well."
She hated the look in his eyes, and the tone of his voice when he said that.
"I'm
just a messenger," she said, hastily. "He's sent a letter to you. And a message. He
asked if you would be satisfied with this as a … deposit, for the time
being. Until he can get the money and data back. Please don't start any
criminal proceedings yet."
She
handed over the thin envelope, hastily. Her fingers touched his, as he
took it, and she pulled back her hand, as though the touch had burnt
her.
He looked at the letter and then back at her curiously.
"Now what does he want to tell me, that he did not tell me yesterday?" he wondered softly. "If
he's begging for more time, he's wasting his time, and mine. And he
doesn't have any collateral, at least…," the piercing gaze raked her
again, "none that I'm interested in."
He made it sound like an insult.
Khushi shivered, understanding why her brother was so scared of him. She was no guilty party, and she felt terrified.
He
ripped open the letter, and read it. She saw a mixture of emotions
chase across his face. There was a long silence, and then he looked at
her. His caramel brown eyes held an oddly speculative expression as they raked her face, and Khushi shivered again.
"Dear me," he said, softly, silkily. "The innocent little sister is not so innocent after all, is she?"
His words surprised her, jerked her out of her nervousness into blank query. She stared at him, completely lost.
"I beg your pardon?"
He tapped the letter with one lean finger, and looked at her quizzically.
"I presume that this proposal has your approval?"
It was the last comment she expected, and she gaped at him, even more mystified.
He looked at her, impatient at her silence. "Well?"
"Nothing
my father or brother do, needs my approval, or my permission," she
managed to say, with a faint attempt at maintaining a semblance of
poise. "I take their permission, not the other way around."
"This does," he replied, coolly, strolling towards her. "You see, I don't go in for rape."
Her jaw dropped.
He
looked at her closely, and came close enough to take her by the
shoulders. She twisted out of his grasp, her mind working furiously.
What on earth did he mean? What was in that letter?!
"Please,"
she said, desperately. "Please. I have no idea what you're talking
about. I was told to deliver this letter, and wait for an answer, that's
all."
"Oh, this is the
answer, that I'm giving you," he replied, silkily, and lifting his hand,
he ran it lightly, delicately down her cheek. It was a soft touch, but
there was nothing remotely gentle or loving about it. It was a
calculated insult, the action of a man stamping his seal on a new
possession.
Khushi jerked away, her heart beating too fast for comfort. Her eyes were wide, shocked.
He
followed her, and grasped her by the upper arms. She stood still, not
knowing what to expect. His hand went up to her face again, cupping her
jaw. His face was expressionless, but his eyes were watching, observing
her narrowly, and she flinched, as much from his touch as from the look
in those hard eyes. Suddenly she was very aware that it was late, and
they were alone in his office. A chill of fear, stark and icy cold,
crept through her.
******
"Mr. Raizada," she said, and she hated the trembling note in her own voice.
"Please,
sir, don't do this. I'll just take the answer to the letter, and go. If
you don't give me an answer, they'll beat me. Please, sir …” she tailed
off into a whisper, her tone now pleading.
Her
tone, more than her words, seemed to reach him. He let her go, and
looked at her narrowly, sensing her reluctance, her shame at her
situation.
"You really have no idea what's in the letter, do you?" he asked, slowly, watching her face.
She shook her head. "They never tell me anything," she said, flatly, emotionlessly.
He looked at her curiously.
"Khushi? That's your name, isn't it? Tell me something. Are they your real
father and brother, or are you a stepchild or adopted or something?"
It was such an unexpected question that she gaped at him dumbly.
He
looked at her intently again, and then wordlessly passed her the
letter. She took it like an automaton, and started reading it.
Halfway through reading, she looked up in horror at him, and backed away further.
"No!" she whispered, her eyes glazed with shock and horror. How could they do this to her?! How could they?!
ASR smiled at her, but it was not a kind smile.
"So?
I asked you a question. Are they your real brother and father? Do fathers and brothers do this
kind of thing in your class of people? I know of people who do this, but
we call them something else."
She
turned away from that cold face, her hands crumpling the letter in them.
For a long moment, she couldn't even answer him, her voice seemed
choked in her throat. At last, she spoke, and her voice was thick with
unshed tears.
"I've often wondered that myself," Khushi said, huskily. "Now there doesn't seem to be much doubt, does there?"
She
wasn't looking at him, so she didn't see his face change. The harsh
expression left it, to be replaced by a much gentler look. He said
nothing, just waited.
For a long
time, she didn't say anything either. Then, suddenly, as though she
couldn't bear it any more, she sank down on the plush carpet, her hands
still holding the crumpled letter. She whispered, "What do I do? Oh,
god, what do I do? How can he do this?! How can they do this? Do they hate me so much?!"
One
solitary tear escaped from her eye, and trickled down her cheek. She
held the rest back by sheer force of will. She would not cry in front of
him, she would not!
At
last, when she felt able to, she looked at him. Her hands crushed the
damning letter between them, her knuckles white. She looked at him
wordlessly, her face pale and tense with the effort of holding back her emotions. All she wanted to do was curl herslef up in aball, and cry her heart out. Or run away where no one could reach her ... least of all, Shyam bhaiya and Baba. But she had to deal with this man first ... and the mess she was in.
ASR cocked an eyebrow at her. His initial scorn and disgust seemed to have faded slightly in the face of her evident distress and shock. Yet there was no trace of softness on that handsome face.
"Well?"
She
couldn't say anything. Hands twisting, mangling the paper they held,
she looked at him, silently, beseechingly, but no words came.
He looked at her closely. His expression became ugly.
"How
many times have you done this before? How many times has he got out of
trouble by using you? Tell me the truth!" he rapped out, and Khushi gasped.
"Never!!!
Shyam's never been in trouble like this before! Oh, he's a bully and
he's weak, but he's never done something wrong before! And even if he
had, I would never…!"
"Shyam has
done a lot of things you obviously don't know about," ASR interrupted
her, ruthlessly. "It’s just that he got caught this time. I've been on
the lookout, but he's been very careful till now. He was obviously
getting over-confident. Probably because he felt his sister, his sweet,
innocent, young sister…" his gaze raked her as he spoke, "…would get him
out of trouble, by seducing his boss."
He
pulled her to her feet, and deliberately, slowly, pulled her close, and
then, suddenly, jerked her into his arms. His hand came up and traced
the outline of her mouth. It was not a loving gesture. It was a slow,
deliberate staking of possession.
Khushi
gasped at the deliberate insult, and her hand flew out at his cheek. He
caught it easily, and held her gaze, shaking his head, mockingly.
"Oh, no, you don't, my dear! You can stay and make good on the promise your brother made! Let me see if you're worth it or not."
His hand held her arm in an iron grip, and she twisted her hand in a futile attempt, to get free, hating the coldly mocking gaze.
"Let
me go! I don't care what promises he's made to you! I don't care! They
can go to hell! I hate them! And I hate you! Let me go!"
He
held her easily, tightly, watching her closely, as she twisted her hand
in his grasp, fighting with all her strength, enraged that it took him
almost no effort to hold her down. She twisted her hand again, and he
held it tighter and pushed it behind her back, bringing her up against
him. She gasped, this time with pain, as a piercing agony shot through
her arm. Her hand went limp, with the pain, and she sagged. His
expression changed.
"What is it? What happened?"
"I
think I've twisted something," she moaned out, and he released her. The
pain eased slightly as he let her go, but only slightly. She sank down
on the floor again, holding her injured hand, tears springing to her
eyes. Tears that she valiantly tried to hide, as he knelt down beside
her.
"Show me," he said, imperatively, and she shrank from him.
"No! Stay away from me!"
"Don't
be silly!" he said, brusquely, and took her hand. Fear of pain kept her
still. "I'm not likely to rape you if you're injured, am I?"
He looked at her briefly as he felt her arm. "The pain is here," she muttered, pointing with her other hand to her elbow. "I think I might have pulled a ligament, or something."
“I’ll give you something … a painkiller,” he said. his face was calmer, less harsh suddenly. His voice too, was gentler. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
She shook her head. “I have something at home,” she said almost inaudibly. “I’ll put some anti-inflamm … some gel. It’ll be okay.”
ASR looked at her. "You seem to know what you’re talking about," he commented. It was a question more than a statement. The hardness had left his face slightly and Khushi looked at him directly, somehow not so fearful now.
"I work in a hospital," she said, with some of her usual calm nature. "I deal with accident and injury victims everyday."
He released her and stood up.
"Then
what the hell…" he said, reasonably, "are you doing, making offers to
seduce your brother's boss, to keep him out of jail? You’re not really the
type, are you? And neither am I the kind of person to get carried away
that easily, if a pretty girl falls at my feet. Or into my bed," he
added.
Khushi's tears were gone now, and
subdued fury showed in her face and voice, as it sunk in as to what
exactly her brother had offered as 'compensation'.
"I
didn't know what was in the letter," she said, equally evenly.
"otherwise, I would have walked through hell, rather than carry it here.
I'm not like them. Sometimes I wonder….," her voice broke a little, and
she stood, too, and turned away, "… if I really am part of the same
family. They certainly don't treat me like one of their own."
His gaze was quiet, reflective, as he looked at her.
"Your mother ...?" he asked, briefly, his tone questioning.
Khushi looked back at him, and somehow she wasn’t so afraid any more. His face was cool, but his eyes held … sympathy?
"My mother
died when I was very small," she said reluctantly. "I don't even
remember her. My father ran away with her. She was from a rich family.
They cut her off, when she ran away, and my father was very upset about
that. He had thought that they would forgive her, and him, and he would
be rich. But they never did accept either of them. Not even when she
tried to take me to them. She died when I was about two years old. Maybe
my father’s never forgiven me for that."
ASR nodded, his face blank. Khushi had no clue as to what he was thinking.
"So
what will you do now?" he asked her. "Will you go back home and tell
them, that you refused to make good on the 'services' Shyam promised to
deliver? Or do you want to accept?" he added, almost as an afterthought, and Khushi shuddered.
"No!"
she said, hotly. "I…I …." She looked at him, and then looked away from
what she saw in his eyes. Was it pity? She didn't know, but at the
moment she was past caring. She walked slowly to the window, and gazed
blankly out at the bright night lights outside. He mind was in turmoil.
What could she do? Where could she go? If she went home and told Shyam
that she refused to do what he wanted her to do …. She shuddered at the
thought of his reaction, but she knew one thing – she could never do
what he wanted her to do. She could not accept to be in this man's hold,
at his mercy, as his … she blanched at the thought …till whatever time
Shyam decided to return his money and information. She could not.
But if she did not,
then … what? What was she to do?