-• nothing erases the past •-

Taranya

"Taranya,"

I turn around hearing my colleague. Rekha smiles once she's standing in front of me and holds out the business card of her daughter's career counsellor. "Thanks. Have you talked to him?"

"Yeah, I let him know this morning. He was hesitant at first, he's usually booked. But when I told him the client's name, he was more than ready to shift around his booking list." She chuckles.

I smile. "Alright, thanks again."

"No, yar, it's nothing. Anyway, if you need my help with anything else, let me know."

I clutch the card in the pinch of my hands and shy a glance over the inscribed name, stuffing it in my purse before looking up at Rekha. "I will. See you tomorrow." I pat her wrist in gratitude before turning around and walking out of the office building. Taking out my key fob, I unlock my car and get in, driving out of the office premises.

I pick up Amir down the next block. He slides in, closing the door before putting on his seatbelt. "Good evening, Ma'am."

"Good evening, any news on Shourya?"

He shakes his head. "It's the first time boss has disappeared like this. He's a very meticulous man, I'm sure you know." As he glances at me, I nod in response. "We're not finding him until he wants to be found."

"Are you worried?" I ask softly, steering the car skillfully through the sea of vehicles. It's rush hour. There's no way we'll reach the farmhouse before midnight.

"For Boss?" The questions sounds rhetoric, "Not at all. I'm only trying to figure out the reason that caused this unusual reaction from him."

"Trust me, it's valid."

He looks at me curiously. "You know?"

"Unfortunately."

"Well, what do you need my assistance with?"

I look into his eyes. "Murder."

Amir stiffens for a split second, then blinks. I focus back on the road.

"Okay," he says after a beat of silence.

I glance at him impressed. Shifting the gear, the car picks up the speed on the highway. Amir doesn't appreciate my risky driving skills, clutching the seatbelt as if it's his only hope. I'm sure I aggravate a few male drivers, and I hear some holler swear words at me from their windows. I don't stop. There's no point. They wouldn't dare say a word if I'm face to face with them.

"We're going to crash at this rate." Amir says, doing his best to hide the tremble in his voice.

"No, we're not." I tell him. "Don't you trust me, Amir?"

"For the skills that are inherent? Yes. For the skills that are acquired? I'm not so sure."

"Very diplomatic answer." My lips quirk up in amusement. "Don't worry. This is not a suicide mission. I'm a skilled driver."

"Will take a lot more than just words to trust your skills after witnessing you getting locked in a cupboard."

I chuckle. "That was very novice on my part, I agree."

"Well, at least you're self aware." A deep sigh rumbles out his throat when I pull off around an arriving lorry from the adjoining lane.

"Do you have a gun on you?"

He pats the holster strapped to his white shirt behind the black blazer.

We leave the concrete roads behind somewhere around eight and drive down the dirt roads into the rundown, rural village. Thick, long, overhanging trees start canopying the sides, cloaking the moonlit golden sky.

Amir turns off the radio after it loses stations. He switches to the local music and plays whatever comes on the screen. His attention splits between his phone and the remote area outside. "Should have brought some back-up." He murmurs under his breath.

"Back-up sounds good when you're doing a rescue mission, Amir. We're heading off to commit a crime. The less accomplices, the lesser there's chance of us ending up in jail. Don't you think?" I chance a glance at him.

He looks at me stunned, then nods his head jerkily. "True."

Sharp in the midnight, I cut off the engine in the driveway of the farmhouse. Stepping out, I move to the boot of the car and haul out a bag, slamming the trunk close. Amir offers to carry the bag on my behalf. I shake my head and continue upstairs. As soon as I ring the doorbell, Virendra opens the door, dressed in his morning clothes consisting of a blue shirt and grey trousers. He steps aside to show me the glimpse of Manohar sprawled open on the couch, snoring off his ass, blissfully unaware of his fate.

"My money?"

I fish out my phone and type hi to my brother. He sends a thumbs up just as Virendra's phone chimes with a notification. He takes out the device and a greedy smile takes over his face.

"He's all yours." He walks around Amir's burly figure to leave. The black Jeep Wrangler jolts to life and soon he's backing out of the driveway. My gaze shifts to Amir and I nod my head in the direction of the road.

Amir frowns. "I can't leave you here alone."

"I'll be fine."

"But still-"

"Go." I command.

He sighs and takes a long look at the man inside, then tries convincing me through his hesitant eyes. I don't budge. He exhales a defeated breath before rushing down the stairs towards my car. The door to the driver's side slams close. Amir shakes his head at me in disbelief and drives off to follow Virendra's car.

I put out my shoes and slip on the home slippers.

Before Virendra walked in on his own and offered me Manohar, I was worried about getting the working staff out without inviting any suspicion on me. Thankfully, Virendra did it for me. The farmhouse is devoid of any sound except for my footsteps, and of any presence except for me and Manohar.

I needed him to be drunk and barely conscious to avoid any mess, but once he's fully in my trap? I want him sober. He needs to feel every agony and pain I'm going to put him through.

I'm not a violent woman.

I don't like fights, blood, and broken bones.

I'm willing to sit down and talk it out if that's possible. But not everyone deserves the gentle approach. Not everyone deserves a chance to be heard.

"What the hell is this, Taranya!?"

My head snaps to the front door. Amir drags the struggling Virendra inside the farmhouse and throws him to the floor where he crashes to his knees. As he sits up wincing and scowling, Amir locks the door closed.

"Taranya! Are you double crossing me?" Virendra gets on his feet.

I nod. "I am."

He brows snap together in shock. Panic reflects in his eyes for a fleeting second, then it disappears as he forges a face of superiority. "Are you insane? Do you know who I am?"

I pretend to think for a second. "A wimp?"

He scoffs out a chuckle. "You're stupid. Even your husband knows he can't afford to harm me."

I shake my head. "It's not that he can't afford, it's just that he is busy." I press significantly on the last word. "But no worries, I can take care of the trivial matters for him."

"Taranya, hurt me and my father will rip you down." Virendra hisses.

I can't help smiling, or the mocking laugh that follows. "Aren't you too old to be using the father card, Virendra? C'mon, I expected better of you. No wonder my husband didn't want to waste his time behind you. Getting rid of you is almost insulting to the time I'm spending on you."

He sighs. "What are you planning to do? Kill me?"

I give him a look of deadpan. "Of course, not. He's getting killed and you're getting framed for it."

Virendra snorts. "And how are you proving that?"

"I'm not proving shit." I shake my head. "You called a friend back to India that you had lost contact of around a decade ago, you brought him to this secluded farmhouse to have "fun", and you instructed the staff to take a day off. You got him drunk, you added the sleeping pills in his drink," I point to the half empty glass on the table, Virendra's face pales even more, "and everything here has only your fingerprints. I don't have to prove anything, Virendra." I smile as horror flashes through his eyes. He looks at me terrified. "You drew the layout, you built the home, and you poured the fuel. All I'll do is lit the match, and drop it. Everything will burn down on its own."

He stumbles back with a gasp, turns around and tries scrambling out of the house. Amir holds him back. The old man looks nothing less than a roach held in the air using its antennas as the bounty, fatty limbs flail and scrape on the floor.

"Sit down, Virendra." I advise.

He stops struggling and looks over his shoulders at me, his tear stricken face almost pity inducing. "Sit down. It's going to be a long night."

Amir grabs him by the collar and drags him to the single seater sofa chair. Virendra drops down to his butt with a soft thud, looking between both of us frightfully. "Even if you put me in jail, my father will get me out."

I nod. "I know. You'll get out on bail. The lack of concrete evidence and your lack of motive to kill him will help your case."

Hope flares in his eyes.

"Until the prosecutor submits your bank statement." I say. "Mr. Rajawat, you received an amount of twenty million dollars in your account the night Manohar Jadega was murdered. Where did the huge amount come from?" I hold an imaginary mic to his mouth. He goes stiff again.

"You- You sent it to me." He whispers, frowning in frustration.

"Except that the account you received money from is not mine." I shrug. "It doesn't even exist anymore."

"Oh, God," he drops his head in his hands. "Wait!" His gaze snaps up to me. "I'm a Prince of Rajgarh. No one's going to believe I'd kill for money. And for two crores!? Pft! Not a chance!" He snickers. "I already have money!" He smiles, happy to have found a loophole in my plan. "And once I'm out of the jail, I'm telling my father everything. Then you and your husband -" he shuts up when I throw a ledger in his lap. "What is this?" He flips through the pages in confusion.

"All the debts you accumulated through your gambling addiction along with the proof that my husband has been paying them off for you." I sit down on the coffee table, meeting his eyes when he finally lifts his head. "Look carefully, there's also a copy of agreement when you sold off Rajawat Construction's shares to Esther Industries. The money you received was instantly sent to Devil's Hour Casino. And how can I forget this," I grab a bunch of documents from my purse. "The details to the bank account you've opened under Shourya's father's name in DBS with him as the nominee. I've to give it to you. Five hundred million dollars? You're Richie Rich." I nod impressively.

Blood drains from his face.

"What? Did you think I wouldn't find out?" I smirk. "You've more to lose, Virendra. Be wise."

"You really thought this through."

I shrug. "I had to. You pissed me off."

"You're not afraid I'll still tell my father the truth?"

Ignoring his question, "You've two options, Virendra. Admit that you killed Manohar Jadega for money and go to jail. You'll be in there for fifteen to twenty years, only if you make it easy for the prosecutor and accept the charges. Then you'll get out and you can start anew, I'll personally help you immigrate to Singapore and settle down. Or you don't do as I say and the world will believe you died out of the guilt for killing Manohar Jadega. The choice is yours."

"You're no less than your husband." He smiles mirthlessly. "A monster beneath that mask of kindness and optimism."

I release a deep breath. "You can't fight evil with good, Virendra. Only a monster can fight a monster like you."

"I choose the first option." He sighs in defeat.

"Good choice." I smile.

"Bring me that bag, Amir." I command. He walks over to where I left the bag and brings it back to me. I unzip it, pull out black gloves, toss a pair at my bodyguard and wear mine. Then I grab the handcuffs from the bag and beckon Virendra to offer me his hands. He gives in surprisingly quick. I cuff his wrists together and slip the keys in my pockets.

A body in my peripheral vision stirs awake. "Take him to the stairs and cuff him there." I point to Virendra. Amir hauls the old man out of his chair, drags him to the wooden stairs and drops him on the third stair, snapping the second handcuff around his wrist, and clasping the empty end around the barricade of the railing.

"Go and guard the main door, Amir."

"But Ma'am -"

"Do as I say, Amir." I cut him off. "Close the main doors and stand outside."

He looks unsurely between Virendra and the half conscious Manohar. "I- I can't -"

"Trust me. I can take care of myself. And if I really need your help, I'll let you know. Go."

He lets out a breath of defeat before walking out. The double doors slam shut with his exit.

My attention shifts to the man opening his eyes to the brightly stinging lights. His face gets alarmed when he notices me.

"Look who's awake," I smirk.

He shuffles to sit straight and looks around in disarray. His gaze falls on his friend leashed to the staircase and his eyes go wide in disbelief. "What the fuck is this?" He looks at me furiously. "Are you out of your God damn mind!? Do you know who I am?"

"A rapist." I state.

He scoffs out a chuckle. "Did your husband sent you here to take revenge on his behalf? Is he scared to face me?"

I clench my jaw.

He laughs boisterously. "No wonder he took my dick so well. The boy needs his wife to fight for him-" I get up and kick the table back. His head whips to the right when my fist pummels into his face, the unmistakable sound of his nose cracking fills the air. Virendra winces dramatically as Manohar starts to holler and scream in pain. I clench and unclench my fist, getting used to the throbbing in my knuckles. It's been days since I last had a one-on-one fight with someone in the ring.

I stand straight as he tilts his face to glare at me. "You fucking bitch-" I step aside when he lunges for me. He stumbles on his steps and whirls around furiously, throwing a feeble punch my way that I catch, twist and lock it on his back. He cries and swears, trying to escape, but unable to. I knee his calf, he falls over flat on the floor. My heel digs into his spine. "What you couldn't do being a man, I did it in my heels." I apply force. He whimpers softly. "Get up," I pull away and step back.

It takes him a long minute to return to his feet. In the meantime, I take out my gun from the purse.

"We need a place for you to sit, don't we? A special seat reserved for you." I smile. "So why don't you shift around the furniture a little? C'mon, empty the living room."

He scowls.

I roll the silencer on the gun.

That works.

Turning around, he starts pushing the furniture to the empty side of the living room. "Leave that chair here," I say, referring to the sofa chair he had his hands on. Sighing, he stands straight and drags the coffee table instead.

"Khushnaseeb ho, Manohar, apni chitah khud hi sajah rahe ho. (You're lucky, Manohar, arranging your own pyre so obediently.)" Virendra jabs from the staircase.

Manohar shoots him a deadly glare. Virendra shrugs sheepishly. I roll my eyes, cocking the gun at the man to work faster.

Leaving the sofa chair in the middle of the living room, Manohar shifts everything else. "Sit here," I point my gun at the chair. He settles down. "Amir!" I call out loudly. Amir pushes the doors open, panic in his eyes that recedes when he notices I'm fine. "Tie him up, darling." I jut the pointer of my gun towards Manohar. He walks in, nodding at my instruction and grabs the bag from the floor, unzipping it and getting out the cuffs.

"Amir, wrap his wrists with the gauze first. Then add another layer of tape around the gauze before cuffing him up. We don't want marks on his skin. It should look clean."

He nods obediently.

Virendra rattles his cuffs, looking offended he wasn't handled with so much precision. "Let's just say you had wild sex before you killed him off." I say. He grunts in disappointment.

Amir steps off once he's done.

"Looks good," I compliment the man on his work. "You can go back to your position outside."

He turns around and stalks out of the house, closing the door shut after him.

"Did you sell me off, Virendra?" Monohar asks, turning his head over his right shoulder.

"Yeah, man, sorry, I needed the cash." Virendra admits. "Will I at least get the money after I'm out of jail?"

I nod. "What you received was all untaxed money. It'd have got you in trouble either way. But after you're released, I'll get you more than that."

Virendra sighs in what seems like relief. "Are you not killing him off? How much more time?"

"Ki- Kill me off?" Monohar stutters. "You're not turning me in?" He looks at me shocked.

"No," I answer. "The world cannot find out what you did. Bigger plans rely on my husband's name. He can't get into this mess. You'll have to die quietly."

Monohar begins to struggle. But the cuffs hold him hostage to the chair.

"Are - Are you killing me with that gun?" He looks at the gun in my hands transfixed.

"I'm not killing you." His eyes snap to me with hope. "The man you wronged to will be the one to kill you." His face goes ashen white.

"But that doesn't mean we can't have fun until then." I smile widely at the man.

If possible, he looks a little dead already.

Things are going to unravel fast now.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Don't forget to vote and comment. Makes my day.