Scarred Love - Chapter 39

Nina watched Rudra as he shed his shirt and trousers. Stark naked, he picked up his phone and started to check something on it.

She licked her lips wishing she could flick her tongue on those scars and that glowing skin. But she knew he wouldn’t ever allow that. Sex for Rudraveer Sangawat was a necessity; just for release, nothing else.

Sighing, she straightened just as he shut the washroom door with a bang behind him.

She had met Rudra 5 years ago in one the hotels in Goa where she was working at the reception. He had come down to buy the hotel. Somehow she had come into limelight owing to some mess up with his room. Although the deal hadn’t gone through, she had got a call from SGH and eventually landed a job with them.

And, she had used all her straits be it her body or anything else to rise up the ladder. That’s how she got noticed by Rudra 3 years ago. The first time he had fucked her it had been by accident. As usual, he had been angry and she had been available.

And, now she looked after his business in London but she knew he did not trust her and the reins were still with him. It was only money between them. But she always tried hard to become more than just a business associate.

No, she was not emotionally involved. She can never be.

Rudra was a difficult and self-centric man and there was no way any woman could find a future with him. Let alone love him.

But she would give anything to get her hands on SGH and that could only happen if she could trap Rudra. Even if it required faking love. Suddenly she remembered the woman Rudra was with the day of the shooting.

Who is she? And why did Rudra want to speak to her alone?

And why did he lose it once she left?

*******************

Ishani got up from the bed and pressed her temples, which were throbbing crazily. Yesterday when she had come home she had blacked out for more than 45 minutes. She didn’t need a doctor to tell her the reason for it. With everything that had happened, she was fortunate enough that she hadn’t needed help from the psyche ward. So, her unconscious state hadn’t bothered her that much.

But this headache was becoming damn irritating. Quickly, she pulled the bedside drawer and picked up the medicine. Stripping two, she gulped both down and was still pouring water into her mouth when her phone started going crazy.

Annie!

Shit!

“Hi!” she said sheepishly.

“Ishani Raijdas, you better tell me what happened or I will definitely whip your ass when I come back,” Annie shouted at the top of her voice and she dragged the phone away from her ear.

“Ishani Raijdas, you better answer me or I am booking the next available flight to Delhi,” she heard Annie threaten.

“Whoa, Mama Bear, chill. Everything is okay.”

“It doesn’t seem like that. Will you tell me or not?” Annie asked in an impatient tone.

“Okay, okay, I’ll tell you everything. But first, tell me how did you find out?”

“It’s all over the news.”

News? O, MY GOD!

Ishani jumped out of bed and switched on the television. As she selected a news channel, the whole incident was being played for the viewers graphically. Irritated, she twisted away and sighed.

“Ishani?”

“I am here.”

Saying this, she poured out all the gory details. Annie listened with silence apart from her periodic hmms and ohs.

“Thank God, you are okay. How is Rudra fairing?” Annie asked when she was done.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“Annie!”

“Okay, okay, I know why you are upset. That woman was there, right?”

“Hmmm!”

Annie chatted for some more time and then disconnected the call.

Keeping the phone on the bedside table, she was about to switch off the television when she heard the newsreader say—

“We tried to contact Rudraveer Sangawat but he was not available.”

Ya, how would he be available? Would be busy getting pampered by that ex of his.

Disgusted, she switched off the television and angrily strode inside the washroom.

*******************

4 days had passed since the shooting and Ishani was still getting nightmares about it. She would still wake up sweating at night sometime. But that was definitely not the cause of her indignation.

Since that day, that exasperating man hadn’t even bothered to check if she was okay or not.

Okay, she wouldn’t have answered his call but a message would have sufficed.

She sighed closing the supplies book that she had been checking since 40 minutes. In these past 4 days, the police had at least come thrice to her to check and re-check about the incident. She had even given the facial description of the shooter and the in-charge of the investigation, Arvind Parashar had assured her that he would be caught soon.

But the scary part had been the next thing he had said—

“Be careful, Ms Raijdas. The shooter knows that you saw him. So, just be a little cautious and careful.”

Not that she needed to worry as that damn man’s security followed her everywhere.

She walked into her office and sat down on the sofa. With Annie not being there and volunteering being less at this time, the work in the NGO had increased considerably. It was only noon and she still had the daily accounts left, which would take the rest of the afternoon.

But before that, she needed to check on the kid who they had just been brought to their shelter. Apparently, this kid hadn’t been talking with anyone. Getting up, she picked up the children books lying in front and started towards the boarding house.

2 hours later, Ishani collapsed on the chair and pinched the bridge of her nose to ease the starting of a splitting headache. Bansi, the new kid had eventually given in and finally spoken up. She had left as Jithu had started feeding him promising Bansi that she would be back to play with him.

She released an exasperated breath as her eyes fell on the account book lying in front.

“Come on, Ishani, you can do it,” she said pepping herself up as she picked it.

Beep! Beep!

The message alert sounded and she opened her WhatsApp to check.

Viman— ‘Has Rudra contacted you?’

Her eyes narrowed as she replied, ‘No’

Panicked, she asked, ‘Why, what happened?’

Viman— ‘Nothing. Don’t worry.’   


Copyright © Paromita Majumder. All Rights Reserved.

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