Chapter Twenty-Four
Sejal tapped her deck of cards on the white linen tablecloth. She didn’t know what she’d expected from a restaurant with a
cheeky name where one could find a mobster, but it hadn’t been this. The place was a little over half filled after the dinner
rush, with families and couples of all ages. The furnishings were dark and the sun had set, but wall sconces gave off a warm,
golden light. Fabric hung on the walls, textiles from India, embroidered scenes of battle and love.
“You okay?” Krish took a sip of the ice water the hostess had poured from them. They’d been seated in a deep semicircular
booth that could easily fit six or eight of their favorite relatives, but they’d tacitly agreed to sit on one side, next to
each other.
“Yup.” She absent-mindedly cut the cards one-handed, over and over again. The hem of her sleeve was starting to fray. She’d
pulled his gray sweatshirt around her, both for comfort and as a safety measure. It didn’t go with her dress, but she didn’t
have a great record of not getting kidnapped, so best to keep his tracker on her if she could.
“We can still leave. Find another restaurant. Do you like dosas?”
“Who doesn’t love dosas? But no. Let’s stay.” Unlike most of their car rides together, they’d spoken almost nonstop during
this last stretch, from the prison to Los Angeles. Their conversation had been silly and deep, ranging from their day-to-day
lives to how they grew up.
They’d shied away from discussing Cobra or the future. Both of those topics had been way too grim and real. Later. Later was
soon enough to come up with a potential revised truce.
“Who do we talk to here? What’s the protocol at a mob front?”
She cut the cards again, and noticed an older Indian man at the table next to theirs watching her hands. He had silver at
his temples and deep lines on his face. He sat with another man. They wore big jackets that were at odds with the warm snap
of weather and conveniently hid any outlines of a firearm.
But most importantly, they’d sat down and ordered from the waiter without looking at a menu. Regulars.
“Scooch away from me a little and let me do my thing,” she said, under her breath. “No one’s going to talk to me if you’re
brooding right next to me, all big and handsome.”
Any other man might take offense at being told to get away, but Krish’s lips quirked and he moved over. He was getting better
at not reacting to her calling him handsome, which was good. How many more chances are you going to get to tell him he’s handsome?
She’d find out soon enough, she guessed. She caught the older man’s eye and gave him a smile. She put every ounce of showmanship
she had into feathering the cards into a fan. “You like cards?”
The man’s eyes warmed, and he turned his body toward her. The tables were close to the booths, and only a couple of feet separated them, enough for the waiters to walk past. “I was wondering if you were going to deal me in.”
“What’s your game?”
The man’s companion snorted and tipped his Kingfisher bottle to his lips. His shaved head gleamed under the light. He was
younger than his friend, but his expression was harder. “My uncle’s addicted to blackjack.”
“We can do blackjack. What are your names?”
The first man touched his chest. “Vivek. This is Dhruv.”
“Chandra. Nice to meet you both.”
The men gave Krish a wary look, but he sat silent, arms crossed. That was fine. Let them think he was her protection. No need
to introduce him and have to track more fake names.
She distracted them by spreading the cards face down on the table and mixing them together. “Any good dealer starts with a
casino wash, to randomize the deck.” She gathered the cards together. “What’s the holy grail pair you’re looking for in blackjack
again?”
“Ace and a face card,” Vivek said.
“And sometimes you get a bonus payout if the jack is black and you pair it with the ace of spades, yeah?” Sejal flipped over
the top card on the deck.
Dhruv inhaled at the sight of the ace of spades, and scooted his chair toward her so he could see her better.
“We need that jack, but let’s keep this ace safe, we don’t want to lose it.
” She put the ace under the empty box and went back to the rest of the deck, using a few loud fancy shuffles to misdirect from what she was actually doing.
She cut the deck and flipped half of it over, then shuffled it a few times, to show them the cards were all inside out and backs and fronts.
A few more strategic cuts, and Sejal fanned the deck out on the table. All of the cards were face down, except for the jack
of clubs, winking up at them.
“Ooh,” Vivek breathed.
Sejal stripped it out and twirled it in her fingers. “This is good, but I like consistency. Let’s try for the jack of spades.”
She swept her palm over the card fast, and rolled her eyes when it turned into the ace of spades. “Not quite what I was going
for.”
“What’s the card under the box, then?” Dhruv demanded.
Sejal moved the box aside and turned over the jack of spades. “Look at that. I got twenty-one.”
Vivek laughed. “That was amazing.”
“That’s really cool.” The young waitress had stopped next to their booth to watch, pad in her hand. Sejal had barely noticed,
she’d been too focused.
“Thank you.” She swept the cards up.
“Get the lady some free samosas for the show,” Dhruv told the waitress.
The girl chuckled. “I can see what I can do.”
“I’d rather have information.” Sejal’s tone was light, but she set the cards down. The time for playing was done.
The men obviously got the vibe shift, because they tensed. Even the waitress took a step back, her eyes growing shuttered.
Her gaze ping-ponged between her and Krish. “What are you looking for?”
Krish spoke, and the single word landed between them. “Cobra.”
Dhruv shook his head, his smile tight. “What’s that?”
“No idea what you’re talking about.” Vivek glanced at the waitress. “Nina, why don’t you get these nice people the check.”
Nina bit her lip. “They haven’t ordered yet.”
“Then get them some snacks on the house. They need to go.”
Sejal put her cards neatly back into her new go-bag and used her best I would like to speak to the manager voice. “I’m not going anywhere. I need to talk to whoever is in charge of Cobra.”
Dhruv snorted. “Good luck.”
“Shut up, son.” Vivek gave her a tight smile. “Leave.”
She glanced around the restaurant. “This is a nice place. Do you know that Cobra’s other daughter is an accountant? She has
a lot of contacts at the IRS.”
“One of my good friends also works for the IRS,” Krish contributed.
“Wow. Look at that.”
“Bad idea to threaten Cobra, Chandra.”
“My name’s actually Sejal Chaudhary. I’m Rushali’s eldest daughter.”
That stopped everyone. The waitress took another step back. A group at a table near them stopped eating and stared.
“We do not speak of Rushali,” Vivek growled, his voice shaking.
“She is my mother. I have the right to be here. And I will sit right here, until I speak to—”
“Sejal, please stop making a scene and threatening my staff. And with the IRS? Tsk, tsk. That’s rather cruel.” A well-dressed
woman slid into the booth.
Sejal froze, and Krish did as well.
Wait. What?
“Nina, get us chai, please. Thank you, Dhruv and Vivek, for trying to protect me, you may go.” As if the woman had snapped
her fingers, the three left, murmuring a barely audible “Yes, Madam.” The other tables went back to dining like a curtain
had been called on a play.
“What?” Not very articulate on Sejal’s part, but she wasn’t sure what else to say. Except . . . “Isha?”
Gone were Isha’s sensible jeans and comfy sneakers. She’d traded them for a form-fitting blue jersey dress and put on makeup.
Her hair was down and blown out. She looked closer to Sejal’s age now. “That’s me. Hi.”
“But . . . you’re Mira’s nanny,” Krish said slowly.
“I am.” Isha made a face. “I guess that’s more of a was now, though.”
“My little sister’s nanny is the head of Cobra?”
Isha tossed her head. Unlike them, she appeared to have slept well. Her skin was glowing, not a single frown line to be seen.
“Yes, I am.”
Sejal gaped at her. “Why?”
“Because I’m also her little sister. And yours.”
Sejal gripped the edge of the table, the better to ground herself. Under the table, she felt Krish’s hand land on her thigh.
A good place for it. “What?”
Isha waved again, but her light tone was at odds with the watchful gleam in her eyes. “Hello, Sejal. I can’t say it’s nice
to meet you, but I suppose it was inevitable.”
Sejal tried to follow how that was at all humanly possible. “You’re my . . . half-sister?”
“No. Full. Same father and mother. Regrettably.” Isha grimaced. “That came out wrong. Regrettably because they were terrible, not regrettably because we’re sisters.”
Sejal slowly cataloged each of Isha’s features. Mira and Sejal had been told their whole lives that they looked nothing like
each other. Sejal took mostly after their father, Mira their mother.
But Isha . . . Isha had Sejal’s nose and forehead, as well as Mira’s lips and chin and hair. She somehow looked like both
of them and neither of them. “My mom was pregnant when she left my dad.”
Isha clicked her tongue. “Bingo.”
The memory knocked into Sejal’s brain. “The snowman,” she said quietly.
Isha raised a perfectly threaded eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“My father saved a drawing I made. Mira thought it was a snowman.” The memory slammed back into Sejal’s brain with the weight
of a freight train. “It was Mom. She was pregnant. I drew a picture of her.”
Isha’s laugh was genuine. “She loved that, I’m sure.”
“She yelled at me. Threw it in the trash,” Sejal murmured. Her mother’s face had grown flushed, and she’d stormed out.
Left them something.
Feels like something’s missing.
Their dad’s cryptic email to Sunil. He had known he had a third daughter out there.
“How did you know to come here?”
Krish rubbed his jaw. “We saw your—Rushali. I’ve been trying to get answers about what happened to my brother. She said if
we came here, we’d be able to talk to Cobra.”
Isha rolled her eyes. “That bitch blew my cover? She must have found out I’ve gotten to know Mira. She’s still pissed that I was able to steal her people’s loyalty away from her.”
“Rushali raised you.” Sejal stiffened. It had been bad enough to be raised by their neglectful father, but at least they’d
had Rhea and their cadre of ne’er-do-well but kind uncles as positive role models. Who had the daughter of Cobra had? How
could this woman be anything but dangerous?
“Guilty. I didn’t even know I had sisters, to be honest, until my grandmother mentioned it on her deathbed a few years ago.
She was a lovely woman, if that helps. She never forgave my mother for leaving you behind.”
“What do you want with Mira? Why have you been pretending to be her nanny?” Fear sharpened Sejal’s voice, fear for her sister
and niece.
Isha waited for the waitress to place glass cups of chai in front of each of them. Krish and Sejal both ignored their tea,
but Isha took a sip. “I wanted to meet her. And my niece. I rather like children. I imagine I really would have been a nanny
in another life.”
“Why not just introduce yourself as our sister?”
Isha lifted a shoulder. “Obviously, I feared rejection. I figured if I posed as the nanny, I could get to know them without
being rebuffed. Or without preconceptions. I wanted to see what my life could have been. Had I not been raised by a sadistic,
narcissistic mother. Well, ‘raised’ is putting it pretty generously. I was mostly with my grandma and at various boarding
schools, but still.”
“Since we were raised by a narcissistic, absent father, I don’t think Mira and I had it much better.”
“Hmm.” Isha’s lips quirked. “I don’t know. Mira’s life is fairly normal. Almost boring.” Longing flashed in her face.
Sejal also longed for parts of Mira’s life. Not the most boring parts, but other parts. “Rushali truly was the worst, wasn’t she?”
“The worst.”
Sejal sat forward. For a second, it was like they were merely two sisters gossiping about their dysfunctional mother. “She
kidnapped me, you know that?”
“I heard.” Isha’s eyes hardened. “I was not a part of that. I’m selfishly glad you were able to put her out of commission,
by the way.”
“So you could take over Cobra.”
“I took over a form of Cobra,” Isha corrected her. “We’re winding up operations and going legit. My mother—our mother—was
a fool. The power isn’t in illicit operations any longer. It’s in influencing the world with vast amounts of legitimate money.”
Krish cleared his throat. “Both those strategies sound pretty evil.”
“Yes, but one carries the threat of jail time, and the other does not, and if our mother’s misery is any indication, jail
is not fun.” Isha paused. “I didn’t think I’d actually get to meet you, Sejal. I didn’t think I wanted to. I was afraid to.”
“I can understand that.”
“Now that the shock is out of the way, what can I do for you?”
Sejal tried to refocus. “We’re really here about Krish’s brother. Do you know what happened to him?”
Isha took another sip of her chai. “Agent Avi. Yes. He called my attorney a couple weeks ago and told me he’d be happy to trade your location for money, as he had once before with our mother.
I sent him on his way. I figured if you wanted to be found, you would be.
A shame he figured out that someone else was interested in your whereabouts.
If I’d known he was shopping your privacy, I would have neutralized him right there and then. ”
Isha paused. “I’m sorry about trying to choke you, Krish, but knowing how cavalier your brother was with Sejal’s safety, I
figured you were up to something, too.”