Chapter Nine
Chapter
Nine
As the crowd clamored in front of them, Tejas took Naina’s hand in a gentle but firm grip, and she decided not to pull away despite the tingles shooting up her arm.
The mob was mostly men who were no doubt raised on a steady diet of Pai’s violent, misogynistic movies, and they wouldn’t hesitate to turn on her.
They flashed their work IDs at the security guard manning the front gate and were let in.
Seconds after they rang the doorbell, Preethi Acharya ushered them in.
She was a tall, dark-skinned woman with a heart-shaped face and legs for days, although the shadows under her sunken eyes and her nervous, slouched posture made her look like a different person from the one Naina had seen on TV and social media.
“Thank you for being on time,” she said, her hands shaking as she turned off the video display next to the door that showed a full view of her chaotic front yard. “Would you like some coffee?”
They murmured their agreement and sat on Preethi’s leather couch while she disappeared into the kitchen.
“Hand me the charge sheet,” Tejas said, blowing air through his teeth.
Naina did as told, then stood, looking around while he read through the document.
Preethi’s living room was fairly small, dusty, and littered with tissues and empty takeout containers.
She’d furnished the place with a five-seater sofa set, a wooden coffee table, and four movie posters flanking the wall on either side of the television—the entirety of Preethi’s filmography, not counting her latest movie that had led to the murder.
Naina remembered the waves Preethi’s debut had made seven years ago.
It was an ambitious project for a nineteen-year-old actress who had zero famous connections, but the award-winning box-office hit propelled her career and landed her the lead role in thirty-five-year-old Rohith Pai’s next movie—which, to this date, was her only other successful project.
After her disastrous affair with Pai, who had been in a serious relationship with his childhood sweetheart at the time, she blew up at him, accusing him of grooming and manipulation—which neither the media nor the Sandalwood film industry took seriously, instead branding her a “home-wrecker.” Pai had claimed the relationship was nothing more than a gimmick to garner attention for their movie, and his girlfriend, Athira—who was now his wife—believed him, as did the general public.
Preethi slowly but surely disappeared from the limelight, only resurfacing for the occasional shampoo advertisement or single-episode cameo in a soap opera—and, more recently, fitness sponsorships on social media, including studios offering pole-dancing classes, which most people considered scandalous at best, immoral at worst. From the previous lawyer’s notes, Naina knew Preethi’s modest net worth was the result of her investing most of her movie and sponsorship earnings into profitable stocks, which was how she was paying AKC’s legal fees.
“Here you go,” Preethi said, coming into view with three mugs of coffee balanced precariously on a tray.
She set it on the center table and sat facing them on the smaller couch.
Her knee jiggled underneath her maxi skirt, and her eyes were red-rimmed like she’d cried in the kitchen.
Naina’s heart clenched with pain. She couldn’t imagine what Preethi was going through.
“Well, shall we begin?” Naina asked, turning on her iPad, poised to take notes. When their client nodded, she opened her mouth to get started with the list of questions, but Tejas spoke first.
“How are you doing?” He sipped his coffee. “Are you home alone, or do you have someone taking care of you?”
Preethi’s lower lip wobbled. Maybe no one’s asked her that question yet, Naina thought bleakly. After all, she hadn’t even considered asking herself. Being a good attorney didn’t just mean knowing how to win a case—it meant knowing how to win your client’s trust.
Tejas, clearly, was a great attorney.
“I’m alone, of course.” Preethi gestured around the messy room with her mug, almost spilling her coffee.
“I usually have a housekeeper running the place and keeping it tidy. She’d worked here for five years, but why would anybody stick around for a failed actress accused of killing their favorite director? ”
“We’re so sorry,” Naina said, lowering her head, “and we’re here to help in any way we can. And for that, we need you to be as honest as possible.”
Preethi let out a shuddering gasp. “Okay. Let me start from the beginning.” She got up, gulping the last of her coffee.
Then she walked to the second framed poster beside the television, where she stood front and center in a dripping-wet white saree with the significantly older hero’s lips pressed to her neck.
“Naanu Ninnade, the project that changed my life. Well,” she said, snorting, “maybe ruined would be a better word.” Preethi touched a hand to the bold title printed on the movie poster, her gaze wistful.
“That’s what he’d say to me every night after filming, you know?
I’m only yours. And I thought he meant it too. ”
Naina took a sip of the coffee, which was too sweet and creamy for her taste, and referenced her notes. “So you started dating Pai in mid-2019, during filming?”
Preethi scoffed. “Or so I thought. But I guess romancing me was just another PR stunt for Rohith. The movie came out on Valentine’s Day the next year, and weeks after it became a blockbuster hit—days after he told me he wanted me forever, mind you—I got dumped, and he convinced the world it was a fake relationship.
” She turned to Tejas, who was listening with rapt attention, no iPad or notebook in hand, and added, “Wanna know what happened then?”
“He married someone else,” Tejas said, his jaw clenched.
Naina’s stomach churned, remembering that Tejas’s ex-boyfriend had done the same thing.
“You said it,” Preethi declared, arms folded.
“I was sobbing into my tequila-spiked ice cream when I saw the wedding pictures on social media. You’d think he’d have explained himself, but no, I was just the immature nineteen-year-old actress he wanted to fuck in secret before settling down with his age-appropriate high school sweetheart. ”
Tejas rubbed the stubble on his chin. “It sucks being cast aside like that by someone who seemed to have loved you back. I’m sorry, Preethi.”
“And after that?” Naina asked, her voice sharp, though she already knew the whole story—or at least the tabloids’ version of it from six years ago. But a change in topic was needed so she wouldn’t think about whether Tejas was referencing his own life—if he meant his ex, or if he meant Naina.
Preethi wiped her eyes with a handkerchief.
“I was an emotional and mental wreck, and I could barely get out of bed. It was only after months in therapy that I realized what he’d done was grooming.
Maybe I shouldn’t have been so vocal about it, given his influence and popularity, but I was barely nineteen years old with no media training… ”
“We’re not going to judge you,” Tejas said softly, urging her to continue, and set his empty mug down.
“I went on record calling Rohith a predator, not that anyone cared. I sent his wife screenshots and pictures of us together, hoping she’d believe me, but then Rohith reached out threatening legal action, and I backed off, though my career was already ruined by that point.
” Her lip trembled. “Look, I might still be traumatized by what happened, but I’m not a murderer.
I would never hurt him, or—or anyone!” She let out a loud, aching sob, then stood, stacking the empty mugs on the tray. “P-please excuse me.”
Once she was out of earshot, Naina leaned closer to Tejas. “How did no one think the alleged PR relationship was still problematic? He was pushing forty, and she was a literal teenager when they first got together.”
“Bollywood romanticizes this shit, and people lap it up.” Tejas sighed sadly and opened his notebook to a blank page. “Plus, sometimes red flags only show themselves in hindsight.”
Naina bit her lip. That was how things had turned out for her too.
Santhosh was never the best partner to her in their six years together.
They’d had nothing in common besides both being lawyers, and there were so many moments where instead of congratulating her on her achievements, he’d pointed out the ways in which she could improve.
Back then, Naina had thought he was merely encouraging her to aim higher and be better, and it was only after he cheated on her and told her she wasn’t wife or mother material that she realized he was obsessed with comparing his successes to hers—and that he would always need to put her down in some way or other.
Preethi returned, her eyes noticeably puffier, and sat back down with trembling limbs. “Okay. I guess now I should talk about…that night. The reason you’re both here.”
“It’s all right if you need more time,” Naina assured her. “We’re not going anywhere.”
In her peripheral vision, she spotted a small smile on Tejas’s face as he nodded, and her heart almost warmed. Almost. Thankfully, she was in control of the damn organ, not the other way around.
“No, let’s get it over with.” Preethi shook out her shoulders, her foot tapping against the floor.
“When Rohith reached out to offer me the lead role of the young warrior princess in Yoddha Yash, I agreed on the spot, even though we hadn’t talked since the breakup and my accusations.
It was the only promising job offer I had gotten in years, and my brand deals don’t pay nearly enough. I had to say yes.”
Tejas finally jotted something down. “Did you think something would happen between you and him?”