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The only thing he needed Virat to tell him was the ‘who’ of it. Three hours later, Agastya disembarked from his private jet and strode across the tarmac, his cold gaze making people scatter from his path like rats deserting a sinking ship. Ganesh and his retinue hurried to keep up with his rapid stride. Ganesh’s worried gaze kept skipping to him and away. He could almost hear the silent conversation Naresh and he were having behind his back, their frantic eye contact feeling loud and abrasive to his heightened senses.
He felt like the pin had been pulled from the grenade and he was left holding the damn thing in the silence and calm that preceded the explosion. He stared out at the darkened streets as his car sped through the traffic, his driver seeming to be aiming for Formula One status. Everything around him seemed extra dark, extra silent, in that moment.
What was Veda doing? He craved her sweetness, her warmth, the sunshine of her smile. He wanted to bury himself in her love and be born again, washed free of the grime and filth of his very existence. He wanted her, period.
The car screeched to a halt in the driveway of his home and Ganesh jumped out and opened Agastya’s door for him to step out. He barely made it up the front steps when another car pulled up behind his and Virat emerged from the racy, red Porsche.
“Virat!” He forced a smile, trying to look like all this moment was, was an old friend dropping in to say hi. “How are you?”
“Brilliant brother!” Virat was a better actor than him, marching up the stairs to hug Agastya and thump him on the back. “I’m in town for a couple of days and wanted to catch up for a drink. I tried calling you, but you didn’t answer. Are you free for a drink?”
Agastya nodded. “I have a meeting in half an hour. But I’m free now. You caught me at the right moment. Come, let’s go into my suite. We can catch up in peace without anyone hassling us.”
The suite had the added advantage of being off limits to everyone on his team. Virat and he would be granted privacy for their conversation.
“Awesome. One drink and I’ll bugger off. I know you’re a busy man.” Virat kept up a ceaseless prattle as they walked towards his suite, Ganesh, Naresh and the aides falling away beside Agastya’s study leaving only the two of them to ascend the stairs.
“Dude!” Virat exclaimed now. “I have to tell you about the girl I’m dating. She’s a fucking bomb!”
The door of the suite slammed shut behind them and Agastya dropped the smile he’d nailed to his face.
“Tell-“ he began but Virat held a hand up to silence him. He pulled a slim probe like device and started scanning the room, speaking as he worked.
“Bugger, I’m telling you she has breasts bigger than watermelons. Firm and juicy too.”
“Are they real?” Agastya asked, his eyes following the device Virat held. As he watched, his friend pulled out two mics, one from under a vase and another from the base of the bedside table.
Someone had bugged his private quarters. Someone had been listening to him and to Veda as they went about their lives. They’d been listening to their most private, intimate moments. Someone had taken from them, a slice of their lives, that was no ones’ but their own.
Someone had taken from his wife. They could come for him, and they did every day. They could come for him, and he’d meet them on equal ground. But this time, they’d come for his wife. And for that, Agastya Kodela would bury them and everything they loved with them.
No one, NO ONE, came for his wife.
Fury solidified inside him until it was a glacier that threatened to take out the world, one conniving, betraying asshole at a time. He watched as Virat deactivated the devices, still talking rubbish about his mythical girlfriend’s body. The minute Virat was sure there were no more bugs in the room, he stopped talking and turned to face Agastya, his eyes flat and deadly. The eyes of a shark that had scented blood.
Agastya stared back, every cell in his body, deathly calm and in lethal fighting mode.
“Tell me,” he ordered.
And Virat did. Every word he spoke, every truth he uttered had the scales falling from his eyes as he listened to the truth of the Judas in his life. It shook the foundation of his life and still, he found himself wholly focused on the next steps, not on the hurt he knew would come.
If this had happened sooner, this wouldn’t have just shaken his foundation, it would have shattered it. But now…now, he was still standing. Because of Veda. Because her love for him and his for her had given him a sturdy footing in a life that suddenly felt frighteningly fragile.
Thirty-Two
VEDA
“This is stupid,” Ram grumbled.
“Don’t move,” Veda lectured as she placed cucumber slices over his eyes.
Beside him, Raashi was already blissed out, her face covered in a brown, gloopy face mask. Veda wasn’t sure but she thought her sister might have fallen asleep. She applied another layer of the face mask to Ram Anna’s face and then slathered some on to her own face.
She picked up the pitcher of Sangria they’d made together and poured herself another glass, taking a nice, deep breath. She hadn’t felt this relaxed in ages, not since her wedding for sure.
Ram sat up, dislodging the cucumber and Veda sighed as she watched it tumble to the floor.
“That was supposed to be relaxing for you,” she groaned.
