Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
VEER
T he door to Dheer’s study opened and a scared little man scurried out of the room. By the way he hunched his shoulders as if he was expecting a sharp blow any moment, I guessed the will reading hadn’t gone down too well.
Since the entire property was entailed to whoever held the title of Maharaja, Dheer and my sister had more than enough for the next seven generations, so I wasn’t worried about them. But Isha… there was something desperate in her eyes as she talked about moving out of her childhood home. I should know. For some reason, I could read every nuance, every little change on her expressive face. I could tell when she wanted to run me through with one of the huge swords that hung on the walls of the big drawing room. I could also tell when she couldn’t decide if she wanted to slap me or kiss me. And I could tell when she was worried. Today, Isha was worried.
Truth be told, I didn’t like the idea of her living by herself in a haveli on the other side of town. Especially now that the Goels had stepped up their illegal activities on Dheer’s land. They had sworn to bring down the Trikheras. Alka Goel might be dead, but Ayush was still rotting in jail, and he had been issuing some serious threats against my sister’s family from prison.
I knew Dheer could protect his family. While they were in the palace, that is. I didn’t know if he could keep Isha safe when she was living alone. And for some reason, her safety mattered to me. A lot.
And while she certainly knew her way around a gun, she was far too gentle to survive in the wild.
I turned around as the door to Dheer’s study slammed open and Isha stomped out. She wiped at a vase on the side table and sent it crashing to the floor.
When she saw my raised eyebrows, she flipped me off with both hands as she walked past angrily.
So much for being gentle, I thought ruefully. This new version of Isha was a spitfire. A sharp-tongued harpy. A tigress. And damned if it didn’t turn me on even more. I shook off the thought and turned to my sister.
“I take it the will-reading didn’t go too well?” I asked softly.
Diya grimaced and rubbed her belly absently.
“Dadi Sa shafted poor Isha from beyond the grave. Never mind. We’ll figure something out. But what’s this about you joining politics?”
It was my turn to make a face because this was the standard reaction to my news that I was trying to get a party ticket, and to be honest, it was getting old.
“You sound surprised,” I grumbled. “And I don’t see why. I have always worked to better the lives of our people.”
“What does that have to do with joining politics?” she asked drolly.
I knew what Diya meant. Very few people join politics these days because they want to do any good for society. Most joined with the sole intention of lining their coffers, which was precisely why I had stayed away from the field all these years. I was happy with managing the philanthropic organisations run by my family’s trust.
“Seriously, though, what changed? You always swore you’d never become a neta, even when you were offered Dheer’s father’s seat after he died so suddenly. Why do you want to become one now?”
“Because there’s no other choice, Diya. The local mafia is trying to take over all our villages, and I can’t allow them to drive out the helpless villagers just so they can set up their illegal trade routes.”
“I understand that, but how are you going to fight them, Veer?” she asked worriedly. “You know nothing about politics.”
“I’ll learn,” I replied grimly. “And I won’t be starting at the bottom. I’ll be starting right at the top. Kirori Ji just told me that the Pragati Party is willing to field me as their CM candidate as long as I win the assembly election. ”
“Our Veer is the party’s hidden ikka,” exclaimed our mother as she and Baba came up to join us.
“What do you mean, Ma?”
Ma smiled at me proudly.
“He has a lot of goodwill among the locals, and the party needs someone like him if they want to win the next Vidhan Sabha election.”
“Pragati Party isn’t big enough to get a majority in the assembly, Ma,” replied Diya with a snort.
“Arre! When did you become such an expert on politics? I’m telling you that Veer is going to turn things around for them,” snapped my mother defensively.
Baba interrupted their argument before it got too heated.
“Beta, you’re right. But if they promise to nominate Veer as their chief ministerial candidate, all the royal houses will come out to support him, as will the villagers who have been benefiting from the Sisodia Trust for years. He’s young, he’s well-educated, he’s charming, and more importantly, he’s the cleanest candidate the state has seen in fifty years. I tell you, Diya, this boy will one day become the PM if he plays his cards right. Achha, we must be on our way now if we hope to reach home before it gets dark.”
My parents clearly had big dreams for my political career but right now, all I cared about was getting the right support to stop the land nexus, and becoming the chief minister was the first step in that direction.
“I’m very proud of you, Veer,” said Diya warmly as we walked to the door. “Dheer and I will support you with whatever you need.”
I suppressed the snarl that sprang to my lips at the mention of my erstwhile best friend’s name. If Diya could forgive him for betraying her nine years ago, so could I. Especially after he did it only to protect her from the dark turn that his life had taken. It wasn’t easy to let go of old habits, but I didn’t get the urge to pound the fucking idiot’s face in the sand every time I saw him anymore. Which was a good start.
As if I had conjured him up by just thinking about him, Dheer walked out of his study looking grimmer than I had ever seen him. The issue with Isha must be worse than I thought.
He forced a smile as he thanked my parents for attending the prayer meeting and they drove off with their entourage. There was an awkward silence as we waited for the valet to bring my car around until Dheer spoke up.
“I’ve sent a copy of Dadi Sa’s will to our legal team. Let’s see if they can find a way to overturn it,” he said wearily.
Diya looped a hand around his arm and rested her head on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry to say this, Dheer, but your grandmother was the most evil witch in the history of evil witches.”
“Don’t be sorry, babe. It’s the bitter truth. She did her best to fuck us over when she was alive and she’s kept up the tradition from beyond the grave.”
Diya filled me in on the terms of the will and I winced when she said the house would go to the Goels because Isha wasn’t married. That was the worst cut of all. Their grandmother must have been a sadistic bitch to do such a thing to her family.
All our phones pinged at the same time, and we looked at each other warily as they kept pinging with messages. I pulled mine out and frowned at the messages from my assistant. Each successive text seemed increasingly distressed. They all spoke of impending doom and I wondered if he was high.
Finally, he sent me two images and I stared in horror at the screen because if there were any images I’d never want to be made public, it was these two.
“What the hell is this?” demanded Diya, staring at her screen in confusion.
“It’s a picture of Veer on a yacht,” said Dheer, who had got the same image from somewhere. “He’s trending on social media right now, and not in a good way. Kirori Ji just sent me some links for articles about him.”
I was reading one such article that my assistant had forwarded to me and it was bad. Really bad. Dread curled around my innards and I took a deep breath as I tried to make sense of what was happening.
“I can’t spot Veer in this image. Oh, there you are! Eww…. what the fuck is that on your head?” yelped Diya.
That was a bra. That a woman took off and draped around my head like a crown.
Fuck it! I should have known this party in Monaco would come back to bite me in the butt, I thought grimly. There I was - wearing only a pair of swimming shorts and that bloody bra on my head.
I looked like a moron.
“You look like the poster child for billionaire debauchery,” exclaimed Diya.
“It’s not what you think,” I said wearily. “It was just a joke.”
“I don’t see anything funny about it,” she shot back. “What kind of parties do you host on that yacht?”
“First of all, this is a very old pic. At least five years old,” I argued. “And I didn’t even know that woman. She was drunk and waving her bra around like a flag, draping it over random people because she found it funny. She was escorted off the boat soon after this scene.”
“There’s another picture of you emerging from a bathroom at some nightclub in Amsterdam wiping your red nose,” said Dheer, shoving his phone in my face. “You fucking idiot!”
“I thought that was your name,” I drawled to hide the rage that coursed through my body at the accusation in his tone. No matter how much he provoked me, I had to remember that he was married to my sister. And that I was in his house. Ma would disown me if I beat up her precious Jamai Sa in his own house.
Besides, I didn’t blame him for jumping to the most obvious conclusion. I looked like Rudolph the fucking reindeer, and my bloodshot eyes made it look like I’d just done some lines of coke in the bathroom. But I hadn’t!
“This is not a joke, Veer,” he snapped.
“For fuck’s sake, I had a bad cold that day,” I roared. “This was your party, Diya. Don’t you remember?”
“Oh, yeah! We flew down to Amsterdam for the weekend after Paris Fashion Week,” remembered Diya. “You were sick as a dog, and we stayed in the hotel all weekend because you had a high fever.”
“It looks very bad, Veer. The trolls are calling you a charsi,” said Dheer.
“But why ? What set this off?” asked Diya.
“The better question would be who set it off?” I said softly. “Someone did this deliberately.”
Before I could say anything else, a car roared up the driveway and I cursed under my breath. My parents must have seen the pictures and had turned around to demand some answers.
Baba hopped out of the car and I could see him practically vibrating with fury.
“Explain yourself, Ranveer,” he snapped, his voice sharp as a whip.
“It’s a set-up, Baba,” I replied, trying not to rise to the anger in his voice.
I had to stay calm because if I panicked, it was all over. After all, I had anticipated some pushback when I agreed to join politics. And from all sides, not just the land mafia.
“Are the photos fake?”
“No, they aren’t,” I admitted with a sigh. “But it’s not what it looks like.”
In one masterstroke, whoever had engineered this attack had used my own past against me.
“You came so close to fulfilling your dream, Veer. And you messed it all up,” said Baba, disappointment weighing heavily in his tone as he stared at me in disgust. “Being clean as driven snow was your USP. If you don’t have that, you have no trumps left. Don’t expect a ticket from the party after this!”
“What have you children been up to on all those trips to Europe?” cried Ma. “Where did we go wrong in your upbringing?”
“What did I do?” asked Diya indignantly.
“Don’t involve Diya in this, Ma,” I warned. “This has nothing to do with her.”
“Yes! This is all your fault,” accused Baba. “Doing drugs and hookers out in the open.”
I tried to hold onto my patience because they had every right to be upset with me, but it was a struggle since none of those accusations were true.
“There have never been any hookers on my yacht, Baba. And I have never done drugs. I don’t know why you’re so ready to believe these wild accusations. It’s as if you don’t know me at all,” I said bitterly.
“Who cares about what we believe, beta?” asked Baba defeatedly. “Our lives are all about public perception, and these two photographs have just cemented your reputation as a wild, playboy prince.”
“So we’ll hold a press conference and present our side,” argued Diya. “And we’ll sue all these websites for defamation.”
She was the only person on my side, I realised. The rest of my family was only too eager to believe the worst about me.
“The situation is out of control, Diya. There’s nothing we can say to turn public perception in Veer’s favour. Not when journalists are posting articles about all his hot ex-girlfriends, most of whom happen to be lingerie models,” said Dheer.
“Hey, just because you lived like a monk doesn’t mean I had to,” I snapped.
“Maybe you should have, then your list of girlfriends wouldn’t look like a Victoria’s Secret catalogue,” he said drily.
“Guys, stop fighting and focus,” said Diya, clapping her hands loudly. “You should all stay with us for a few more days because I’m sure every reporter in the country is parked outside your palace right now. You don’t need them yelling questions at you until you’ve decided how to fight these accusations.”
She led us back into the palace and we joined Dheer in his study. I got on the phone with my assistant and asked him to come to Trikhera right away. We needed to stem the damage as soon as we could.
“I’ll get Raksha involved,” said Dheer. “We need to find the source of the leak, and if anyone can find the person behind it, it is her.”
My mother led Diya upstairs to rest for a bit while Baba, Dheer and I tried to make some sense of this mess.
“We need a fixer,” I said grimly. “There is no way we can fix this issue by ourselves. We need an outsider to look at the situation objectively and figure out a way to minimise the damage and prevent further attacks. Because that’s exactly what this is. Someone doesn’t want me to be CM.”
“I know just the man to help us,” said Dheer. “Do you know Ranvijay Rathore?”
“The Maharaja of Mirpur? Isn’t he a hotshot lawyer in London?”
“Not anymore. He’s back in India and heads a big law firm in Mumbai. He’s a total shark and trust me, if anyone can fix this problem for you, it is him.”
I gave in wearily. The more hands there were on board, the sooner we’d find a solution. One thing was certain, I refused to be cowed into letting go of my dream.