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She wished them goodbye and left. She was on her way out when her phone pinged from the depths of her dance kit. She fished it out and glanced at the display. She had over thirty unread messages and fifteen missed calls. This was nothing new with the current media circus that was her life. A media circus she noted her father was barely participating in despite being the one to have started it all. Too little, too late but at least, he was trying.
He wasn’t the only one trying. She saw the messages from Agastya but left them unread. She wasn’t ready to listen to what he had to say.
A cocked gun to your temple for life.
His words still echoed in her head, a bitter undertone to the chaos that plagued her. She replied to Ram and Harsh before going to slip the phone back into her kit. It rang before she could zip the bag. The name on the display had her freezing.
Her heart started to race as she stared at the phone. She didn’t want to pick up, but she didn’t have it in her to ignore it either. Before she could decide on what to do, the phone stopped ringing.
She slid into the car, allowing the guard to shut the door behind her.
“Don’t be a coward,” she told herself. “You have to face him at some point.”
Fingers still shaking, she pulled the phone out and called him back. The phone rang just once before he picked up.
“Will you do me a favour?” he asked gruffly.
Thirty-Seven
AGASTYA
Agastya stepped out of his car, camera flashes popping in his face and almost blinding him. He barely blinked as his security made way for him to enter the venue for the press conference. This had been their life for way too long now for it to faze him.
His father and mother strode ahead of him, heads held high, gaze firmly on their destination, the dais erected at the end of the grounds. Harsh, Priyanka and Aarush walked behind him adding to their circle of support. Tonight was about family. His was incomplete, but he hadn’t had the heart to ask her to be here for him, not when he hadn’t been there for her in the only way that mattered. He had no right to ask for anything from her anymore, not even her forgiveness.
He forced his mind back to the present. The investigation into Ganesh’s activities were proceeding at a brisk pace and the police were combing through all their affairs in connection with it. Ganesh was claiming he only did what he did on the behest of the Kodelas but so far, it was their word against his. What Agastya needed to nail this shut was the money and so far, Virat had been only on one wild goose chase after another. The money was as elusive as the story behind it.
But today, the Kodelas would tell their story. His hand twitched at his side, stress making his skin prickle. The grounds were overflowing with people, allies and opposition alike. The press were out in full force, most of them baying for their blood. Nobody liked anything more than watching the mighty fall.
A small hullabaloo began at the gate, the press going into a frenzy. Some minor political leader, Agastya supposed, continuing to walk without looking back but then, his father stopped walking. Surprised, Agastya stopped too. His father seemed to be smiling at whomever had arrived.
“Who is it?” Agastya asked in Telugu, pitching his voice low enough for only his father to hear. He didn’t bother looking back, not wanting to give the arriving party the satisfaction of making him look.
His father smiled; a beam of pleasure directed at someone behind Agastya. It was rather discomfiting. His father didn’t smile often. His default was the grumpy, old man version of the resting bitch face.
“You came!” he exclaimed, his smile broadening like a demented shark.
“Of course Mamagaru. How could I not come once you asked me to?”
Agastya stilled, the low, sweet voice he heard in his dreams wrapping itself around him. She was here. Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, he turned to face her. Veda looked directly at his father, refusing to even glance his way.
Dressed in a simple peach cotton saree that complemented his own white cotton kurta, her beautiful, long hair pulled into a low bun, simple gold studs in her ears and barely there makeup, she looked tired, gaunt, and heartbreakingly his.
Ignoring him like he was a lump of wood or something, Veda walked by him and bent to touch his father’s feet. The cameras went crazy all around them even as Agastya stood there like an idiot gaping at her like she was a mirage.
And then he saw that she hadn’t come alone. Behind her stood her parents, brother, and sister. She hadn’t just come to support him. She’d brought her family too. It was a powerful statement to make to the world. It wasn’t just Veda Kodela who supported him. The might of the Gadde family and their media empire backed him too. Even if one family member looked openly murderous. He glanced at Raashi but found her glaring at Harsh who was returning the favour two-fold.
“Shall we?” his father asked, inclining his head towards the stage. Agastya took a deep breath and nodded. Veda fell into step beside him as they followed his parents on to the stage, their respective families trailing behind them. If ever there was a show of strength, it was today. He glanced down at her delicate profile, his heart swelling with unvoiced emotion.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
He saw her close her eyes for a brief second, but she didn’t respond, nor did she deign to look at him. And then they were in the middle of the whole drama. The crowd roared as they took the stage, supporters chanting his father and his name.
Agastya seated his mother and Veda before ensuring the rest of the family had found their seats too. Only then did he step forward to flank his father and greet the crowd.
“Namaskaram,” his father began, pitching his voice with the aid of the microphone over the cheers and screams from the massive crowd that had gathered. Agastya ran an experienced eye over the hordes, knowing that most of them had been transported from the rural areas for the day.
As his father spoke, he forced himself to look forward, to meet the eyes of the powerful leaders who’d gathered there to support them. He forced himself not to look at her. He felt strangely off kilter, like his world had been taken and set at a strange angle, one which was familiar and yet, unknown.
