CHAPTER XI SHELL MAKE YOU SLEEP WITH THE FISHES
Morning light spilt gently into Ishaani's room. The girls were slowly waking up in a pile of limbs and grumbling.
Tara stood at the doorway for a moment, watching the chaos with fond amusement, before calling them down for breakfast. Nayonica, Saarakshi, and Sparshi eventually dragged themselves out, still half-asleep and bickering.
Only Ishaani remained — buried deep under the blanket, breathing slow and peaceful.
Tara closed the door softly and walked over. She sat on the edge of the bed and brushed the hair from Ishaani's face.
"Bambi," she murmured warmly. "Get up."
No response.
"Ish... c'mon, baby."
Still nothing.
Tara leaned down, voice turning playfully stern. "Ishaani Rajvanshi. Wake. Up."
Ishaani's eyes fluttered open. She was facing the window, still half-lost in the dream where Tara had been calling her exactly like that. A sleepy smile tugged at her lips as she mumbled to herself, chuckling softly:
"It felt so real..."
From right behind her, Tara's amused voice answered:
"It is real."
Ishaani whirled around, eyes widening. The moment she saw Tara sitting there — looking unfairly beautiful in the soft morning light — her heart did a ridiculous flip. She didn't say anything. She simply reached out, grabbed Tara's hand, and tugged.
Tara let herself be pulled. Ishaani immediately cocooned into her, burying her face in Tara's neck, arms wrapping tightly around her waist, legs tangling with hers under the blanket.
She pressed herself as close as physically possible, breathing in Tara's scent like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.
Tara let out a soft, surprised laugh, wrapping her arms around Ishaani and holding her securely.
"You're extra loving this morning," Tara murmured, voice warm with affection as she stroked Ishaani's back.
Ishaani nuzzled deeper into her neck and mumbled sleepily, "Uhumm... have you looked at yourself, Miss Kapoor?"
Tara laughed — bright, genuine, and beautiful. The sound vibrated through her chest against Ishaani's cheek. She kept holding her tightly, one hand gently carding through Ishaani's messy hair, the other rubbing slow, soothing circles on her lower back.
"Ever the sweet-talker," Tara whispered fondly, pressing a kiss to the top of Ishaani's head.
They stayed like that for a long moment — Ishaani cocooned safely in Tara's arms, Tara holding her like she was something precious and breakable. The rest of the world could wait.
Eventually, Tara pulled back just enough to look at her, eyes sparkling with mischief.
Tara inched closer, lips hovering just above Ishaani's, breath warm.
She brushed her thumb along Ishaani's cheek, nails lightly dragging down the side of her neck in that slow, sensual way that always made Ishaani shiver.
Ishaani's breath hitched. Her eyes fluttered half-closed.
"You haven't brushed yet, though," Tara teased, lips hovering dangerously close.
Ishaani groaned dramatically and flopped back onto the bed like she'd been mortally wounded.
Tara laughed again. "Sorry, Bambi." She reached down and gave Ishaani's exposed torso (where her t-shirt had ridden up) a playful slap. The sound was sharp and cheeky. "Get up. Shower. Breakfast is waiting downstairs."
She stood, then paused at the door and looked back with that signature wicked little smirk, eyes squinted a fraction with a very playful expression.
"Need help with the shirt off?"
Ishaani's face burned bright red. She shook her head frantically and practically sprinted into the bathroom, Tara's soft, satisfied laughter following her the entire way.
Tara did leave, but she had come back.
She stayed right there in the bedroom, leaning against the dresser with her arms loosely crossed, listening to the sound of running water.
She told herself it was because Ishaani was still healing — what if she slipped, or got dizzy, or needed help reaching something?
But deep down, she knew the truth: she simply didn't want to be away from her these days.
It was as if the kidnapping incident had incited a protective feeling deep-down in Tara's heart, something closer to maternal uneasiness where she wished to always make sure Ishaani was safe and sound, something which she didn't understand, but she was willing to if it ended with Ishaani.
She chuckled at the mere thought of her ever having the guts to decline Ishaani's proposal, unaware at that time about Ishaani's irrefutable grit and determination.
When the water finally stopped, Tara's lips curved into a small, satisfied smile.
A few minutes later, Ishaani stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a deep blue bathrobe, hair damp and curling at the ends, skin glowing from the heat. She looked soft, vulnerable, and so painfully beautiful that Tara's chest tightened.
"You waited," Ishaani said quietly, a shy but happy little smile tugging at her lips.
"Of course I waited," Tara replied, voice warm. She pushed up from the bed and closed the distance, gently brushing a wet strand of hair behind Ishaani's ear. "In case you needed help."
Ishaani's cheeks flushed with quiet pleasure. She didn't say anything more — just let herself feel cared for.
Tara helped her get dressed with careful hands.
She chose a soft, lilac oversized shirt and loose cotton shorts for Ishaani, mindful of every bruise.
As she unbuttoned the shirt, her eyes fell on Ishaani's sombre eyes, the way they didn't track Tara's movements, but kept themselves fixated on Tara's face with the hint of an upward twitch present on her lips.
Tara smiled, her full lips stretching across her face and that pulled Ishaani out of whatever daydream she was curating, even further getting startled when Tara abruptly craned her neck down and connected their lips in a lingering peck, her hands having opened all the buttons.
"Take a picture," Tara said, smiling as she made Ishaani's pull one arm through the sleeve and the bandaged hand after it, making sure no strain followed.
"Tara... can you tell me more about what you and Vedika di have been working on? About Aurobindo Sen? He's Nayonica's father... I just want to understand."
Tara's hands stilled for a moment on Ishaani's waist. She was quiet as she smoothed the fabric down Ishaani's back, choosing her words carefully.
She wouldn't tell her everything.
Not yet.
"He's not a good man, Ishi," Tara said finally, voice low and steady. She turned Ishaani gently so they were facing each other. "On the surface, he looks perfect — respected businessman, family man, donates to all the right causes. But underneath... he's been involved in some very dirty money."
Ishaani frowned, searching Tara's face. "Dirty how?"
Tara sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Ishaani to stand between her legs, hands resting on her hips.
"Shell companies. Offshore accounts. Moving large sums of money that don't have clean origins.
He's been one of the silent backers for several 'charity' fronts that were actually used to launder money and.
.. facilitate other things." Tara chose her next words with precision.
"We've found connections between him and Rajveer.
Not direct enough to prove everything in court yet, but enough to know he's not innocent. "
She left out the worst parts — the trafficking routes, the girls who disappeared after being promised safety, the way some of those "charity shelters" were actually holding pens. Ishaani didn't need those images in her head right now. Not while she was still healing.
Ishaani absorbed the words, her hands resting on Tara's arms. "Nayonica doesn't know any of this, does she?"
"No," Tara said softly, rubbing soothing circles on Ishaani's hips with her thumbs. "And for now, it's better that way. She's your friend. We'll protect her from the worst of it as long as we can."
Ishaani nodded slowly, leaning forward until her forehead rested against Tara's. She tilted her head up and kissed Ishaani's lips — slow, reassuring, and full of quiet promise.
"I'll always tell you what you need to know," she murmured against her mouth. "But I'll never tell you anything that will hurt you more than necessary. Not while you're still recovering."
Ishaani smiled softly and kissed her again, deeper this time, fingers threading into Tara's hair. For a long moment, the world narrowed down to just the two of them — warm skin, gentle touches, and the safety of Tara's arms.
Eventually, Tara pulled back with a reluctant sigh.
"Come on, Bambi. Your sisters will send a search party if we take any longer."
Ishaani groaned but let Tara pull her toward the door, their fingers intertwined.
Ishaani and Tara descended the stairs slowly.
Ishaani was still moving with that careful waddle — sore ribs, tender bruises, and the general ache of a body still knitting itself back together.
Halfway down, she suddenly stopped, grabbed Tara's waist, and pulled her into a shadowed alcove near the landing.
Tara's eyes widened, but before she could say anything, Ishaani rose on her toes and kissed her — sudden, hungry, and a little clumsy in her eagerness. Tara made a soft, surprised sound before melting into it, one hand cupping Ishaani's jaw, the other resting on her neck.
When they pulled apart, Ishaani was breathless, cheeks flushed.
Tara chuckled, low and warm, brushing her thumb across Ishaani's lower lip. "What was that for, Bambi?"
Ishaani shrugged, smiling shyly. "Just... because, well, you're Tara Kapoor."
She turned and continued waddling downstairs as if nothing had happened. Tara followed, lips still curved in amusement, eyes soft.
In the dining room, breakfast was already spread out —fresh parathas, kesar halwa, fruits, coffee, and chai. The moment Ishaani appeared, Devika stood up and pulled her into a careful but fierce hug.
Ishaani still had a bandage around her left arm and shoulder, certain red blemishes across her face and possibly scarcely healed ribs, given it had been only some days since she had returned.
"My baby," Devika murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead and coddling her for a long moment, one hand gently rubbing her back. "How are you feeling today?"
"Better," Ishaani said, hugging her back tightly. "Still sore, but better."
She sat down next to Nayonica, who immediately bumped their shoulders together affectionately.
Sparshi was already bothering Vedika at the other end of the table, leaning in far too close while Vedika tried (and failed) to ignore her.
Saarakshi was deep in conversation with Amaya about the sudden spike in Amaya's followers after the "heroic sister rescue" videos she'd posted.
Devika's sharp gaze landed on Tara as she took her seat.
"What took you two so long?" Devika asked, one eyebrow raised. "We were about to send a search party."
Ishaani didn't even blink. "Tara di was just making sure I didn't fall and split my head open in the bathroom. You know how strict she is about safety."
The lie rolled off her tongue so smoothly that even Nayonica had to stuff a laugh into her napkin. Tara simply sipped her coffee with perfect composure, though the corner of her mouth twitched.
Devika studied them for a beat longer, then let it go with a sigh. "Fine. Eat properly."
Breakfast passed in comfortable chaos. Sparshi continued her campaign of shameless flirting with Vedika. Amaya and Saarakshi talked influencer strategy. Nayonica kept stealing pieces of mango from Ishaani's plate while whispering gossip.
Eventually, the sisters and Tara excused themselves to the study for work. The twins (Sparshi and Saarakshi) also left soon after, after they gave Ishaani one last tight hug and a promise to return later.
The house grew quieter.
Devika, Vedika, and Tara gathered around the large desk. The screens were lit up, C1PHER's encrypted call active.
The distorted voice came through clearly, calm and slightly amused as always.
"Ladies, you asked me to trace the origins of the shell accounts. I did. It wasn't pretty."
Vedika leaned forward. "Tell us."
"Rajveer was the loud one — flashy transfers, obvious shell companies in Mauritius and Singapore. Easy to spot. But Aurobindo Sen... he's smarter. His money moves through layered trusts, educational NGOs, and fake women's empowerment funds. Sahastra Alliance was just one spoke in a very big wheel."
Tara's eyes narrowed. "Where does the money actually come from?"
C1PHER paused for effect.
"Human cargo. Blackmail. Political leverage.
Some of it loops back as 'donations' from certain industrialists who want favours.
Rajeev Rajvanshi's name appears in a few peripheral transactions — not direct, but close enough that he must have known something.
He's been doing business with these circles for years. "
Devika's jaw clenched. Vedika's expression turned thunderous.
"What?" Devika uttered alongside Vedika, looking deathly pale.
Tara spoke, voice cold. "Can we prove it?"
"Not enough for court yet," C1PHER admitted. "But enough to start squeezing. I've sent you new files. Start with the Delhi-Mumbai route. Three girls went missing last month after being 'placed' through Sahastra's shelter program. Their last known locations match Sen's private properties."
The call ended after a few more technical details, and silence fell over the study.
Vedika rubbed her face. "We need more. We can't go public with half-proofs."
Tara stared at the screen, eyes hard. "Then we dig deeper. And we keep your father away from this until we have ironclad evidence."
Devika nodded slowly. "Agreed."
A month had slipped by in a blur of sleepless nights, whispered strategies, and the quiet, relentless grind of three women who refused to let monsters walk free.
Vedika had become a ghost in her own home.
She lived in the study, surrounded by multiple screens glowing blue in the dark, fingers flying across keyboards as she chased digital shadows.
Coffee cups piled up like monuments to her obsession.
She barely ate. She barely slept. Every lead on Aurobindo Sen dissolved into layers of offshore trusts, fake NGOs, and carefully constructed deniability.
She grew sharper, colder, more dangerous with each dead end.
Devika wielded influence like a scalpel.
She attended closed-door meetings, made calls to people who owed her favours from her UN days, and applied quiet, crushing pressure on bureaucrats and police officials.
Her reputation as the youngest female delegate gave her access others could only dream of, but even she kept hitting walls when it came to Aurobindo Sen.
The man was Teflon — polished, respected, and seemingly untouchable.
Tara moved through Delhi's elite circles like smoke.
She attended art openings, charity galas, and private dinners where she smiled beautifully, asked the right questions, and collected secrets like rare paintings.
Her curator persona was the perfect mask.
She was the one who noticed the small things — a nervous glance here, an expensive gift given at the wrong time there.
Yet even she couldn't pin Aurobindo down with anything court-ready.
The frustration was palpable.
Then the invitation arrived, thick cream card with gold embossing.
The guest list was a powder keg of Delhi's most powerful — industrialists, politicians, senior bureaucrats, media owners, and a few carefully selected celebrities. It was the social event of the season.
In the study that evening, the atmosphere was electric.
Vedika pinned a large floor plan of the Sen Estate to the board.
"The main house has three wings. Private study is here," she pointed.
"Art gallery here. Master bedroom suite on the first floor.
Security will be heavy at entrances, but once inside, guests will have relative freedom during the cocktail hour and performances. "
Devika stood with perfect posture, arms crossed. "I'll stay in the main ballroom. Keep Aurobindo and his wife occupied. I can pull in a few diplomats for conversation — make it impossible for him to slip away."
Tara leaned against the desk, elegant even in casual clothes, studying the plan with predator focus.
"I'll handle the private gallery. He's vain about his art collection.
If I express deep interest, he'll want to show me the restricted pieces himself.
That gives me ten to fifteen minutes inside his inner circle.
I can plant devices and access whatever I can. "
Vedika nodded. "I'll be on comms from the van outside. C1PHER is on standby for remote access if we get close to any devices. We go in clean, we come out clean. No risks."
The three women looked at each other — exhausted, determined, and unbreakable.
Tara's voice was quiet steel. "This might be our best shot. We take it."
Ishaani had healed remarkably well.
The bruises were gone. The scars remained — faint silvery lines on her ribs and collarbone — but her body moved with its old strength again. Boxing in the mornings. Literature lectures. Late-night gossip sessions with her friends. For the first time since the kidnapping, she felt like herself.
Today's lecture on feminist theory was lively.
Nayonica stood at the front of the class, confidently explaining Judith Butler's theory of performativity, her back to the students as she wrote key points on the board.
Ishaani and Sparshi were smiling as they listened to Nayonica's presentation with utmost interest.
Behind Ishaani, two senior boys from the batch leaned in, voices low and disgusting.
"Goddamn, look at that fat ass. Nayonica Sen acting all intellectual... I'd love to bend her over that desk and fuck the smart out of her."
"Yeah, imagine making her choke on it while she tries to lecture. Bet she'd cry so pretty with all that drool down her face."
Ishaani's blood turned to fire. Why the fuck are these sleazy, sewer-infesting rodents always after my Nayon?!
She whipped around. "Why the fuck would you say that?"
One of the boys smirked. "Relax, princess. It's just guys talking. Don't be such a killjoy."
The other laughed. "If you bitches don't want us saying this shit, then stop parading around campus like you're asking for it. Dress properly, and maybe we'll keep our mouths shut."
The words landed like gasoline on flames. Nayonica saw the commotion from the very front of the class since everyone's eyes were on the disturbances in the class.
Ishaani stood up so fast her chair clattered backwards. With every ounce of rage and strength left in her 5'2 body, she swung her fist and punched the first boy square in the face. The crunch of his nose breaking was deeply satisfying.
He screamed, staggering back with blood spraying.
The second guy lunged at her. Ishaani didn't think — she drove her knee straight into his balls with vicious force.
He dropped instantly, retching. "So we don't actually have to deal with your dirty, mutt blood anymore in the future," Ishaani said, smug with a smirk.
Wait, why am I talking like Tara?
The first boy, blood pouring down his face, raised his hand to slap her.
But Nayonica was already there.
She grabbed his wrist mid-swing, twisted it brutally, and shoved him hard into the desk.
"Touch her again, and I will end you and your entire pathetic bloodline," she snarled, voice shaking with fury.
"Do not even get me started if you wish to walk straight out of here.
You're not going to last against either one of us since I'm sure you're aware of who my sister is. "
Sparshi, sitting two rows back, had been recording the entire thing on her Ray-Bans Meta. She was grinning like a maniac.
The Dean's office was thick with tension.
The two boys sat with ice packs and their furious, entitled parents. Ishaani and Nayonica stood on one side, supported by Sparshi and Saarakshi. Devika arrived like a storm in heels with Ishicka Sen Malhotra right beside her in a sharp, black power suit.
The moment the boys' parents tried defending their sons — "Boys will be boys," "It was harmless locker room talk," "These girls are overreacting" — Devika and Ishicka unleashed hell.
Devika's voice was pure ice. "Harmless? Your sons sexually harassed my sister and her friend in the middle of a university lecture.
They spoke about raping her, about making her choke.
And you dare sit here and call that 'boys being boys'?
People like you should seriously consider putting their necks through a noose or, better, a guillotine. "
Ishicka stepped forward, smiling like a shark. "My sister is practically my daughter. If anyone ever spoke about Nayonica the way your sons did, I would destroy them so completely their grandchildren would still feel the shame. Consider this your only warning."
The two women worked in terrifying sync — Devika with cold authority, Ishicka with lethal precision. The Dean had no choice. The boys were suspended immediately, pending a full investigation. Their parents stormed out, defeated and humiliated.
As they exited the office, Ishaani hugged both Devika and Ishicka tightly, looping her arms around both of them, tip-toeing to reach their heights.
"Thank you," she whispered, voice thick with emotion.
Ishicka looked surprised for a moment, then hugged her back. Nayonica rolled her eyes playfully.
"That's literally their job, Ish. Don't hype them too much," she teased.
Ishicka scoffed. "Ungrateful brat." Then softer, looking at Ishaani: "Thank Goddess you didn't turn out like her." Nayonica scoffed, offended, and Ishaani laughed.
Devika smiled and kissed the top of Ishaani's head. "Let's get you home, baby. Tara and Vedika were worried that you might've been hurt again, but I knew you would've given them hell."
Sparshi adjusted her Ray-Bans and grinned. "Best day ever. I got everything. This is going viral in the shared drive."
The ride home was filled with quiet relief, soft laughter, and the warm feeling of being protected.