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“Someone sent him pictures of your father partying with Maqsood Ali, the Pakistani terrorist, Isha. The anonymous letter alleges that he was selling arms to Pakistan. And it brought into question Veer’s eligibility to be elected to power if he was married to the daughter of a traitor. And they said they’d leak the pictures to the media if Pragati Party continued to field you as their candidate.”
His words hit me like a blow to the solar plexus. Veer had gone pale at the news.
This was a huge blow. And this wasn’t something our PR team could finesse away. No political party could survive the taint of treason. We could claim those pictures were doctored, but chances are they weren’t, and that could be proven in court. All they had to do was question the locals, and they’d get the whole truth about Baba’s operations. It wasn’t something we could hide from the world.
“Veer has nothing to do with my family’s past,” I argued.
“How are we going to prove that?” demanded RV.
He was right. But this only meant one thing.
If Chandel Sahab’s party dropped him over this issue, Veer’s fledgling political career would be over even before it began. His dreams for his people would never come true.
All because of me.
CHAPTER 20
VEER
“I’m not giving up so easily,” I announced into the silence that followed.
“Of course not,” agreed Ranvijay, but I could already see the defeat in his eyes.
I knew as well as he did that treason was the death knell to a political career. Our politicians had successfully fought charges of corruption and murder, but the voting public refused to pardon treason. Rightfully so.
“Is there a chance this allegation is true?” I asked Isha carefully.
She refused to meet my eyes.
“I have never seen that man with Baba. But I cannot honestly claim he never met him because my father did not care about anything but money and power. Land, loyalty and country did not matter to him as much as it should have,” she said bitterly. “If it had, he would never have become an arms dealer.”
“Your father was a minister in the central cabinet! Do you really think he would have stooped to treason?” I asked with disbelief.
“Veer, he came from a long line of illustrious Maharajas. And he stooped to a lot of things that would have shamed them. What’s one more thing?” she asked wearily.
“We need to warn Dheer that this scandal is going to break sooner rather than later,” said Ranvijay.
Fuck! This was the last thing he needed right now, what with Diya’s troubled pregnancy.
“We need to find the person behind this and discredit them,” I said angrily. “Even if we have to manufacture evidence against them.”
“That’s not you, Veer,” said Isha. “You’re saying that right now because you’re upset. But you wouldn’t be able to do such a thing. You’re far too straight.”
Damn it! She made that sound like a failing rather than a virtue!
“And that’s not a bad thing,” she added hastily. “Your whole appeal lies in the fact that you’re clean and straight. If you start playing dirty politics now, you’ll regret it later.”
“She’s right, Veer,” agreed Ranvijay.
“Fine! Then get Raman Chandel on the line right now. Browbeat him into taking my call if you have to, but do it,” I ordered.
Ranvijay called Chandel Sahab on his personal number, but he didn’t answer. Finally, he called his secretary.
“Bansal, this is Ranvijay Rathore. You get Chandel Sahab on the phone for me right now, or I swear I’ll wear your guts like a Rani Haar around my neck,” he growled.
His threat worked and Chandel Sahab came on the line. Ranvijay put him on speaker.
“What is it now?” he asked irritably. “I thought I made my stance on this issue very clear.”
