Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
ISHA
R anvijay promised to go over Dadi Sa’s will that night, and I went off to bed feeling hopeful for the first time in two days.
The next morning, Diya was the only one in the dining room when I dragged myself down for breakfast after a restless night. My dreams had been a weird psychedelic mix of danger and desire. Veiled men were chasing me across the desert and somehow, I ended up in Veer’s arms. But I woke up with a start just as he was making love to me, unfulfilled and frustrated.
Diya looked like a wreck this morning and I eyed her worriedly over the rim of my coffee mug.
“Aren’t you supposed to be glowing right now?” I asked.
“I’m not a light bulb,” she grumbled as she inhaled a stack of omelettes. “And I’m far too busy growing a footballer inside me to glow.”
“Could be a ballet dancer,” I commented.
I knew Bhai Sa was desperately praying for a girl who looked just like her mother.
“I don’t care, Ish. The baby can be whatever it likes. Right now, I just want it to stop kicking my bladder. If this continues, I’ll have to move my bed into the bathroom,” she said wearily. “I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in ages.”
“You should go back to bed after breakfast, Dee,” I suggested.
“No! I need some fresh air. And I need maternity clothes,” she exclaimed. “Let’s go shopping!”
I perked up at the idea because I was always up for shopping. Ever since I’d developed my eating disorder, retail therapy had replaced food as my first love.
But I insisted on taking Bhai Sa’s armoured car because I was still feeling jumpy about the Goels, and I didn’t want to take any risks with Diya’s safety. She was normally very sharp and would have asked why we were taking that car, but today she was too tired to even notice. I could have taken her shopping in a bullock cart for all that she noticed.
“Where are we going?” I asked happily as we drove off. “There’s a bespoke boutique near the Town Hall that sources designer maternity clothes from European luxury brands. Do you want to try that store first?”
She shook her head.
“No. I’ll have to wear European clothes when I get back on the runway anyway. I only want to wear desi clothes in my pregnancy, for some reason. I think the chiffons and muslins will be far more comfortable in this weather.”
“Do you want to go to the kothi? You can design your own maternity clothes,” I suggested.
Diya had recently set up a full design unit in an old kothi in the village bazaar with artisans specialising in bandhej, leheriya and various kinds of embroidery indigenous to our area.
“Ooh! That’s a lovely idea. Maybe I can start a maternity line as well,” she mused.
“Weren’t you offered a maternity photoshoot for Vogue?”
“Yes, they are doing a spread on celeb yummy mummies-to-be, and I’m part of the feature.”
“Wear your own designs for the shoot and watch the orders roll in,” I said with a grin.
She was like a child in a candy store at the sight of the bright summery colours in the kothi. Her artisans had just dyed a fresh batch of fabric, and she spent the next couple of hours designing a full line of maternity dresses and jumpsuits in gorgeous colours.
I sighed over the design for a royal blue jumpsuit in georgette with white and pink leheriya patterns.
“I’ll ask them to make one for you, as well,” declared Diya, proving once and for all that she was my soulmate in every way.
When I felt she was looking tired, I pried her from the kothi against her wishes and took her out for ice cream before we went home. We headed back to the car with pistachio gelato dripping from our waffle cones, only to find our way blocked by a woman I didn’t recognise.
She stared at Diya with palpable hatred and I placed myself in front of my bestie blocking her from the woman’s view.
“Can I help you?” I asked pleasantly.
“Soon you’re going to wish someone would help you, bitch,” she hissed.
Umm… rude!
“Look, lady. We don’t even know you. So please get out of our way,” I replied.
I didn’t want to be rude because she looked unhinged. And I didn’t want her to hurt Diya. Who clearly had different ideas.
“Who the hell are you?” she demanded from behind me.
“Your worst nightmare,” drawled the crazy person blocking our way.
Only, now I noticed that she wasn’t alone. One by one, six thugs came up to flank her. My mouth went dry as I realised that we were outnumbered. All we had was our chauffeur. We didn’t go around with a security team in our hometown because those days were supposed to be behind us. Ever since Bhai Sa signed a truce with the mafia, we could move around freely without a threat to our lives.
Funny how quickly that changed.
Now the woman didn’t look crazy. She looked menacing.
“Do you have a name, Miss Nightmare?” enquired Diya sarcastically.
I closed my eyes in despair because this was not the time to be mouthing off to strange women. But my bestie had always been quick to react. A sure sign of her privileged, protected upbringing. I had learnt to think before I spoke because one wrong word could set off a war in these parts.
“Sapna Goel,” announced the woman, and I winced at her reply.
She noticed my reaction and smiled at me coldly.
“That’s right. I’m Alka Goel’s daughter. Ayush Goel’s sister. And the woman who is going to destroy your entire family. You will pay for killing my mother,” she declared.
We could hear sirens in the background and Sapna moved out of our way slowly without taking her eyes off Diya.
I grabbed Diya’s hand and led her towards the car without a word.
As we passed her, Sapna put out a hand and placed it on Diya’s belly. Diya flinched at the action and went pale.
“I’ll come for you,” whispered the vicious, vindictive woman. “I’ll come for all of you. When you least expect it.”
The sirens grew closer and Sapna walked away from us with her thugs at her back before the police arrived. Bhai Sa’s pulled up next to ours and he jumped out before it had stopped fully. A police car drew behind him, sirens blazing.
“Are you okay?” he asked as he ran up to us.
Before I could reply, Diya collapsed right into his arms in a dead faint. He yelled out her name in a panic and carried her to his car.
“Hospital! Drive as your life depends on it,” I ordered the chauffeur as I jumped into the front seat.
Bhai Sa patted Diya’s face but she didn’t respond. Her pallor was very scary and I began to pray under my breath as I passed Bhai Sa a bottle of water.
He splashed some on her face and Diya opened her eyes slowly. She tried to sit up, but he forced her to stay still. What was even scarier was that she complied without an argument. That was very unlike her.
“We’re almost at the hospital,” I announced, and she nodded slightly.
“Are you hurt, baby?” asked Bhai Sa frantically.
Diya shook her head.
“I just felt faint. Did I pass out?” she asked weakly.
“Yes, but don’t worry. You’ll be fine,” he promised.
The chauffeur had already called the hospital so there was a team waiting for us by the ER doors with a wheelchair. They wheeled Diya into the ER and got her settled in a bay immediately.
We waited outside while they examined her, and I filled Bhai Sa in on what had happened.
“She actually threatened both of you? And my baby?” he asked furiously.
I nodded in reply, wishing I could hide this from him, but it was too big to hide. There was no going back from this. The events of that night where Veer and I played tag with the smugglers paled in comparison to this because this was a declaration of war.
“I will bury the Goels,” he growled, getting to his feet.
“Calm down, Bhai Sa. Don’t do anything that will send you to jail. Diya needs you. We all need you! Besides, there’s something else I need to confess.”
He turned to glare at me when I told him about Veer and my inadvertent desert safari.
“Why didn’t you tell me before, Isha?”
“It was never the right time, Bhai Sa,” I replied wearily. “We had one crisis after another breaking over our heads, and I didn’t want to add to your stress.”
Just then, the doctor came out of the bay and we rose to speak to him.
“Her Highness is fine, as is the baby. But she needs to be on complete bed rest from now on because her blood pressure is slightly high. That could be dangerous for both, her and the baby,” he warned.
Bhai Sa thanked him and hurried to Diya’s side. I followed more slowly, wondering when this would end. When would we get to live normal lives?
But I did know one thing. All other problems paled before this. I couldn’t burden my brother with breaking Dadi Sa’s will when he was so worried about his pregnant wife. I had to solve my problem on my own.
If only I knew how.
The doctor wanted to keep Diya under observation in the hospital for the night, and Bhai Sa insisted on staying with her, so I went home alone.
When I got home, I was surprised to see the smaller dining room being set up for a formal dinner. Ma and Diya’s mother greeted me anxiously.
“Is Diya okay? And the baby?” asked Ma.
I reassured them both and cocked an eyebrow at the frantic activity happening around me.
“Are we having a party to celebrate Dadi Sa’s passing?” I asked drily.
“Don’t be rude, Isha. This is all in honour of Raman Chandel. We’re hosting him for dinner tonight,” said Ma severely.
“Didi Sa, I think we should reschedule this dinner,” said Diya’s mother. “It doesn’t seem right when Diya is in hospital. You don’t need the added stress of hosting a guest on Veer’s behalf.”
“Nonsense, Raji,” said Ma briskly. “Veer is family. We’re very happy to help him out. I’m sure Chandel Sahab will excuse Dheer and Diya’s absence.”
Chandel Sahab turned out to be very different from what I had imagined. I was expecting a neta type, but he was more like a strict school teacher. He cast a very judgmental look at Veer when he first met him, but I was relieved to see his frowny face relax a bit as he got to know Veer better.
“Is it working?” I whispered to RV, who was seated to my right. Veer was right opposite me and I could see the muscle in his jaw jumping as Chandel Sahab spoke to him sternly.
“I’m not sure. He’s willing to give him a ticket, but he still hasn’t made any commitments about endorsing him for the CM’s post. I don’t think that’s going to happen this time.”
“Why not?” I asked.
Veer would make an amazing Chief Minister. He had a clear vision of where he wanted to take the state and he was absolutely incorruptible. But I remembered the underhanded dealings of my father and realised that a lot of people would suffer if the CM was so clean. Because Veer wouldn’t take crores of rupees in bribes in return for one signature, and neither would he allow anyone else in his cabinet to take any bribes. Corruption was a whole other industry in our country and a very lucrative one at that.
It all depended on Raman Chandel’s vision for his party. Was he one of those people who profited from being a politician, or did he really want to build a party that brought about real change in the state?
“And what about my problem? Did you go through the will?”
RV blew out a heavy breath.
“I did, and I’m sorry, Isha, but the will is indeed ironclad. If you don’t meet the terms of the will, the house will go to the Goel Foundation,” he replied sombrely.
Damn it! I glared at Dadi Sa’s wedding picture mounted on the wall. Why did she do it? Why did she screw me out of my dream house? Did she hate me that much, I wondered.
After dinner, we moved to the family room where Ranvijay brought up the Sisodia Trust’s philanthropic work and it was funny to see Veer squirming in his seat at the praise lavished on him. His ears turned red and he tried to play down his hard work.
“It’s the least we can do, Chandel Sahab. My family has always been aware of the privilege tied to the family name and fortune. We’re very tuned in with the needs of our people, which is why I’ve finally turned to politics. I’ve never aspired to be a neta. In fact, I’m happier working behind the scenes, but right now, I need to be out there. I need the visibility and the power to bring about the change that is needed in our state.”
“Hmm, that’s what I’m worried about beta. Your haste to acquire power worries me. Most people would work for years towards this dream, but you’re taking instant gratification to quite another level,” replied Chandel Sahab drily. “To an outsider, it looks like yet another impulse of a spoiled billionaire playboy.”
Wow! He didn’t mince his words at all, but Veer didn’t so much as flinch at being called a spoiled playboy.
“Chandel Sahab, I can provide you with the statistics of all the families who have been displaced in the past year. I know their names, ages, and phone numbers. Hell, I even know the names of every distant relative they call Tau and Chacha. And I can tell you that the graph is on a steady rise. More and more families are being tricked, bullied and frightened into selling their ancestral lands for a pittance, and if you follow the money trail, you’ll realise that the shell companies buying up the land all fall under the umbrella of one consortium, Shakti Organics. Which is just a cover for the mafia.”
“Why have I heard that name?” asked Chandel Sahab with a frown.
“You must have seen their trucks and vans going around the city,” said Veer, with a bleak laugh.
“Yes, that’s it! Don’t they sell organic veggies and fruits?”
“I wish! They use those trucks to transport their product quite openly,” Veer informed him.
“What product would that be?”
“Drugs, weapons, women… it could be anything at any given time,” replied Veer with a shrug.
“And what’s the police doing when all this is going on?” asked Chandel Sahab sceptically.
“Snoozing. Because most of them are on the company’s payroll. Commissioner Dhaliwal is doing his best to catch them in the act, but every time they’ve raided the vehicles, they’ve found nothing. The company has insiders in the police force, so they find it easy to stay one step ahead of the cops.”
“And do you think you can stop them when the police can’t?”
“I know I can’t stop them, Chandel Sahab. But I can do my best to make sure my people don’t end up as collateral damage when they expand their business operations,” said Veer fiercely.
“You speak very well, beta. But it takes more than public speaking skills to be a good leader. It takes great strength of character, and I’m afraid your very character is under a cloud. Yes, yes,” he held up a hand when Veer began to reply. “I know you have your answers down pat. I know everything you’re going to say. But your image is all wrong. People don’t want a single playboy prince to be their neta. They want a family man. Someone they can trust.”
A kind of madness came over me just then. All evening, I had been mulling over my problem. If even Ranvijay couldn’t help me find a loophole to break the will, I was probably going to lose Gulab Mahal. Unless I did something quite crazy.
Taking a deep breath, I went and sat down next to Veer, who turned to me in surprise. I winked at him and wound an arm through his. I could feel him stiffen against me.
I smiled at Chandel Sahab warmly.
“But Veer isn’t single, Chandel Sahab. He’s well on his way to becoming a family man. Aren’t you, baby?” I asked, laying my head on Veer’s shoulder.
“Is this true, Veer? This news changes everything. With Isha beti by your side, you could possibly swing enough support to take the state,” he said thoughtfully.
Veer shot me a quick glance, eyes blazing with fury. But he forced a smile when he turned to answer Chandel Sahab.
“We were trying to keep it quiet for now, because the Trikheras are still in mourning,” he hedged.
“But we are looking at a quick wedding,” I added hastily.
Veer took my hand and held it against the side of his thigh, and squeezed my fingers painfully. I drew in a sharp breath and it took every bit of strength I could muster to not cry out in pain.
“Of course,” he said. “I can’t wait to make her mine.”
“Badhai ho,” said Chandel Sahab.
He extended a hand to Veer.
“Welcome aboard, Ranveer. You should file your nomination immediately and begin campaigning soon after your wedding. And don’t forget to bring Isha with you. Our people love a beautiful and kind princess.”