Kaisey Yeh Rishtey - 10

Chapter 10 

The next morning, Shyam and his father seemed restless. They hovered around the phone and the door. Khushi smiled grimly to herself, knowing what they were waiting for.

It soon came. The shrill ringing of the phone startled them all, and Shyam rushed to answer the phone. Khushi casually wandered over near enough to listen to him, and with an angry gesture, he motioned her out of the room, and kicked the door shut. She grimaced as she left, but she had no choice. If all went well, she would find out soon enough, or else Mr. Raizada would let her know himself.

She didn't stop to wonder why she was so sure Mr. Raizada would get in touch with her again. 

The conversation between Shyam and Mr. Raizada was very short. She heard the murmur of voices, her brother's harsh tones, with her father's occasional interjections. Then there was the click of the receiver back on to the cradle, and then silence.

Khushi waited with bated breath for an explosion. That there would be an explosion, she had no doubt. Shyam and her baba did not take kindly to their plans being thwarted.

They came out of the living room and looked at her. To her surprise, Shyam was smiling …. almost. But it was not a nice smile. It was a smile of triumph. She felt a slight chill go through her. Arnav Singh Raizada couldn't have betrayed her. Could he?! Could he have actually accepted the offer in the letter? She had felt she could trust him. Has she been so mistaken?

"No!" she whispered to herself, as her father came up to her. He took her by the shoulders.

"You have to help your brother, Khushi," he said, hoarsely. "Do you hear? You have to help him out of this mess. It is your duty. Mr. Raizada will be here soon. Listen to what he has to say. Understand what he says. And you agree. Do you understand? You agree to whatever he says - whatever. It's our only way out."

Khushi looked at him blankly, her mind going almost numb with terror.

"Agree?" she asked him in little more than a whisper, her voice trembling. "Agree ... to what?"

"Let's go, Dad," said Shyam, brusquely. "He wants to talk to her alone. Let's go."

They went. Khushi followed them to the door, her heart beating fast. She saw them walk away, then she came back inside and dashed to the phone. Quickly, her hands shaking, she punched the number pad frantically.

"Hello? Is Aman there, please? Oh, Anjali! Hi, how are you? Listen, I'm not going to the hospital today, so I won't see you. Could you tell Aman, please? He …er …he wanted me to check on something about the baby, but I won't be going in today. I'll try to check and call him tomorrow."

She hastily reassured an anxious Anjali about her precious baby’s well being, replaced the receiver and waited by the phone. Every now and then, she looked anxiously at the clock, praying that Arnav Singh Raizada would not arrive before Aman called back.

He called within five minutes. His voice was worried, tense.

"Khushi? What's the matter? Why aren't you coming? What is the problem?"

"Aman," she whispered, and the tears that she had managed to keep back till then, finally spilled over. "Oh, God, Aman, I'm so alone. Aman, help me please. I need to get out of here. I have to get out. Please, help me. Take me away from here."

Aman sounded frantic on the phone.
"Khushi, what's the matter? Why are you crying? Khushi, you're not making sense! Stop crying, please, and talk to me!"

"I have to get out," she whispered. "They … I … Aman, get me out of here! Please! I … they want me to become his mistress, his whore ... and he …."

"Whose …?" spluttered Aman, but he never completed his sentence. Or if he did, she never heard it. A long finger pressed down hard on the hook of the phone, disconnecting the call.

Stunned, Khushi whirled around. And lost her balance and fell into Arnav Singh Raizada's arms.

His hands came up, and steadied her. Caramel eyes looked mockingly into hers.

"You don't have to fall into my arms so quickly," he chided, releasing her slowly. She regained her balance and stood back hastily. 

"You … I'm sorry. I …"

He looked steadily at her. "Who were you talking to?"

She suddenly remembered that she had been talking to Aman, and he would be crazy with worry after what she had said. She looked at Arnav Singh Raizada , suddenly angry.

"You had no business to disconnect my call," she accused. "I was talking …"

"To whom? That's exactly what I'm asking," he retorted, and she glared at him.

 "That's my business," she flared.

"I'm making it mine," he replied evenly. "And in case you have a problem with that, let me remind you, that you have a far bigger problem with your father and brother, which you need my help for."

Khushi gulped. She had almost forgotten.

"He's a friend," she muttered, defeated, not looking at him.

Arnav looked at her downcast face.

“Just a friend?”

His tone was questioning, mocking.

Khushi kept quiet, still looking down. He seemed to be about to say something, but didn’t. For a few seconds there was silence, as he looked at her downcast face searchingly.

The silence helped her gather her scattered wits. She pulled the remnants of her courage around her like an invisible cloak. Attack was the best form of defense. She looked at him again, this time accusingly.

"What did you say to Shyam about me? What have you decided? Please tell me. He seemed happy with what you said. But you said last night, that you wouldn't … you wouldn't …"

Arnav's look changed to a mocking amusement as she stumbled over her words. "That I wouldn't what? Make you my mistress? That's what you were telling your ‘friend’, isn't it?"

Khushi fell silent, her misery showing in her eyes. She looked at him pleadingly. "Please. Don't make fun of this."

Arnav Singh Raizada looked at her for a long moment, and it seemed to her that he was not seeing her. He was lost in his own thoughts. Then he shook his head slightly and his expression changed. He sighed.

"No. I'm sorry. There is nothing remotely funny in this situation. I've spent half the night thinking about this, and I think this is the only way out. Some good may even come out of this, if I'm lucky."

She looked at him, baffled.

"I have a job for you," he told her, moving away, and sitting down at the table. He looked at her steadily. "It may last a year, six months, two years. I don't know. You'd probably know better, and in a way, it depends on you, how well you do your job. The better you do it, the shorter it is. Which sounds strange, but when I explain, you’ll understand, and I think it will be what you will want."

Khushi stared at him, completely and utterly at sea.

"I've told your brother that I agree to their offer … to keep you with me as … collateral," he went on, his tone even. "And that you will live with me, in a place of my choosing, till such time as Shyam gets my money and data back. That's all they need to know. They do not need to know about this job."

Khushi stared at him, disbelievingly. Slowly, she shook her head.

"You promised," she whispered. "You promised …. And I believed you. How can you go back on your word?"

He went on, as though she hadn't spoken.

"The job is to be my wife."