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Word Count : 4300

Target : 120 Votes

Audio Theme : Manali Trance

https://youtu.be/3KflBbrUWCs

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67 | Fiancée

| 21st May, 2023 |

| Sunday |

| 1700 Hours |

He looked on as she walked out of the grand entrance of the Dogra manor, not even turning around to check if she had left something or someone behind even for a second. To check if he was still standing there or not, gazing at her, or maybe awaiting a glance from her.

Back in high school, in one of the biology chapters, he had learnt something. Scientifically, the trunk of a tree was divided into five layers—the outer bark, the inner bark or phloem, the cambium cell layer, the sapwood, and then finally, the innermost part of the trunk, the heartwood.

And there was something mystical about the heartwood. Technically that thing was nothing but a bunch of dead, hollow, and needle-like cellulose fibers, but quite miraculously, despite being dead, it doesn't decay or atrophy.

But there was a fine line to this as well. The heartwood would decay only if the outer layers are jeopardized.

And, if he were to be considered the heartwood ever, she was all the other outer four layers sheathing him in her warm embrace, crucial for his survival.

The woman never really understood that in case she ever let herself get harmed, it's actually him who will decay one step at a time, not her, never her.

She would probably leave every time and never look back to check upon him. But that wouldn't stop him from still standing there and wait patiently for a glance from her. 

She would probably never wait for him, but then was it really necessary? Because for a matter of fact, their truth laid in the fact that he was there to do her share of waiting too.

Always.

For people scared of the dusk can never let go of their dawn, can they?

They just can't. 

***

"How is the dress?"

Rukmini raised her brows excitedly.

"Throw this abominable thing in the dustbin right now!"

Rukmini looked taken aback. "What? Why?"

Hinduja stared at her horrified. "This thing is backless, Rukmini!" She raised the off-white jumpsuit in the air and turned it around, from its sleeveless shoulders. It hung in the air sadly.

The back of the silky soft piece of fabric had a deep cut with a string attached to it.

"Come on, ma'am!" Rukmini exclaimed. "Act like the people of your age at times! You are twenty-five, not eighty-five!"

Raghav chuckled, folding his arms across his chest.

"Yeah, obviously, I should act like a twenty-five-year-old and let the whole club count the number of moles I have on my back!"

Rukmini smirked. "No." She scratched her chin. "I mean, that's obviously for your husband to do."

"Rukmini!" Hinduja glared at her.

Meanwhile, Patwardhan cleared his throat while Ramandeep and Raghav chortled.

"Rao, wear it, na?" Rukhsaar smiled lopsidedly. "All three of you need to reach 'The Crown' by seven p.m. So, technically, we don't have any time left on our hands for us to get you a new dress? Do we?"

Hinduja sighed. "Alright." She raised her hands in defeat.

Raghav looked on as Rukmini clapped her hands together and whistled. "Good! Go get changed in the washroom. Take along these stilettos too." She finished, pointing at a shoebox kept on the table.

Roughly fifteen minutes later, the profiler sat in front of a hand mirror as the ACP did something on her face with all the brushes, tints, and whatnot, all stationed on the table in the SIT office room.

She picked a pair of eyeliners, one black and one white, and a few other pencils.

"Now, let's get started with the eyes." Rukmini clicked her tongue in excitement. "The sorceress' eyes!"

"Sorceress?" Hinduja chewed her cheeks from the insides. "I would be really thankful if you don't turn me into a joker."

Sometime later, Hinduja stepped out of the main entranceway of the gargantuan government edifice and walked towards the three men in black semi-formals, who were standing next to two SUVs. She was being followed by the other members.

Patwardhan gulped as his eyes gawked at her, trailing from the straight cut pants of her jumpsuit to the bare skin peeking out from her waist side, eventually landing on her collarbones and finally on her eyes. The pitch-black irises looked even more well-defined and deep because of something black and white lining her eyelids and eyes, and her glasses were replaced with contact lenses for a change.

"Limits Patty." Ramandeep elbowed him in his waist. "She is married."

Patwardhan sighed. "I just can't help it. She—she is gorgeous."

"Well, you should." Ramandeep lifted his left eyebrow. "She is married and has a husband."

"Lucky bastard!"

Raghav cleared his throat. "Alright, we are leaving now. Daleep ji—" He glanced at the ASI. "will stay in the control along with Sir." He shifted his gaze towards Aravind. "While the rest of you will follow us in three separate vehicles and position yourselves inside your respective cars some fifty meters away from the club as backup. In case something goes wrong, I will alert you all and officers in the control room, and for this we must all stay in contact constantly." Saying so, he passed a bug-sized microphone to each one of them while fixing one inside his own ear, right on the concha.

"Yes, sir!" All at once, multiple voices, of both males and females, echoed next to the parking space of the SIT headquarters.

Aravind smiled with a nod of his head. "All the best."

***

The DJ played a sensual number as the lady in a sultry off-white jumpsuit stepped inside, trailed by three sharply dressed men in black.

The dim glow of the chandelier above kissed her bare, svelte back, teasingly peeking out from the daring backless cut of her outfit.

Each click of her stilettos echoed against the polished white oak floor, darkened with ebony stains, in the exclusive members-only club.

Her deep, dark obsidian irises assessed the surroundings, while a faint, playful smile curled at the corners of her tinted lips as if casting a hypnotic trance on the people around.

The whole place was filled with men and women of the elite society. 

Raghav stepped forward, raising his left elbow, signaling her to link her arm with his. "You are going as my plus one."

She nodded and linked her right arm with his left one while Patwardhan and Ramandeep tailed behind them.

"My informer must be here." Ramandeep whispered, roaming his eyes around the whole place in search of someone.

"Let's go inside first." Patwardhan suggested.

Raghav nodded as all four of them wended their way towards the seating area.

"Spread around and keep your eye on everyone." Raghav instructed. "I will let you know our next move soon."

Hinduja slowly strolled towards the bar stools on the other end of the room, getting seated on one of them.

"Drinks, ma'am?" The bartender smiled courteously.

Suddenly, Hinduja felt as if someone was erect on their toes behind her.

"How about I buy the beautiful lady a drink? Hum?" A masculine voice fell on her eardrums.

She didn't turn around. Instead, the unknown man stepped forward, smiling at her. "Yeah?"

Hinduja smiled back. "Sure."

The unknown man turned towards the bartender. "Wine for the lady and vodka for me."

"Sure, sir." The bartender bowed.

He then darted his gaze back to her. "May I know your name, young lady?"

"Naina"

"Ethereal." He chuckled. Then traversing his gaze throughout the whole ground floor of the club, he said, "So, Naina, I saw that you came here with Raghav, Ramandeep and Patwardhan. How are you all related?"

"She is my fiancée." Hinduja's visage hardened as she felt a hand slipping around her waist. But instead of stationing itself on her bare skin as she had expected, she felt it resting on her hip, which was sheathed with the fabric of her outfit. It wasn't exactly touching her hip too. Rather, there was a minute gap of one centimeter between the hand and her body.

Her mien softened as Raghav shook hands with the unknown man. "Ranawat."

"Katoch." The man smiled. "You didn't tell me you are getting married?"

"Not now." Raghav glanced at Hinduja, their eyes going through a silent exchange of words. "But soon."

"Oh." Naren Ranawat clasped his fingers on the bar counter.

"Anyway," Raghav inched his face closer to Hinduja's left ear, hovering over her seated form. "Sweetheart, I have a few people to meet. You enjoy here, eh?" He blinked his eyes twice.

"Sure." She went along with the act, rubbing his shoulder like an ideal fiancée. 

Just then the bartender placed a wine flute on the counter along with a vodka tumbler.

Raghav smiled at Naren for one last time and made his way towards the other end of the club, where a group of men dressed in classy formals were conversing among themselves.

Hinduja had her eyes on him.

Meanwhile, Naren pulled out a tiny-looking paper packet from his blazer pocket and slipped some of the white powder inside it into her flute of burgundy-colored wine. He then quietly thrust the packet back inside his blazer.

Shortly after, Hinduja turned around and glanced at him, taking hold of the flute glass.

Just as she placed the rim between her tinted lips and was about to take a sip, a flirty smile graced her mouth as she got up from the bar stool. "May I know where the female restroom is?" she mouthed, gazing at him seductively.

Naren seemed taken aback for a second, but then grinned ear to ear. "I should have known from your backless outfit itself. All you women are the same."

She leisurely trailed in the direction of the restroom spot where he was pointing his finger at. He followed her without further ado.

"Ready to spread your legs for anything with a fleshy pole and a hefty bank balance." He mocked her.

They ambled towards the female restroom. She set foot into it first, placing the wine flute on the marble slab. He followed suit.

Just as he entered inside completely, the wooden door of the female washroom slammed violently against its frame.

"What the fuck!"

Naren Ranawat felt a tight hold on the back of his neck.

"Bitch!"

"Instead of spreading my legs, how about I crack your skull first?" Hinduja clenched her jaw.

And within the quarter of a second, Naren Ranawat felt his face smashing sharply against the washroom mirror, cracking it into smithereens, its serrated splinters piercing through his facial skin.

"Feels good?" She seethed.

She elbowed him vehemently in his stomach as he coughed out spit, hooked her elbow and left limb around his neck, and right limb, respectively, twisted his arm around and hurled the back of his skull onto the slab.

"Aaaah--!" His bloodcurdling scream resounded in the washroom.

She picked up the flute from the slab and emptied its burgundy-colored liquid content forcefully inside his mouth, thrusting it into his throat. "Drink it!" Rage coursed through her veins. "Drink what you spiked yourself!"

The moment she saw the wine glass getting completely clear, she tossed it into the metallic dustbin nearby.

Then she heaved his head up in the air and hurled it against the slab once again. Blood splurged out of the man's crack head as he dropped unconscious on the floor. The door snapped open as the DCP burst in swiftly.

"What the fuck happened?" He stared at the unconscious Naren lying on the floor with wide eyes.

Then his eyes moved to the flute glass in the dustbin, eventually averting to her impassive face. "He spiked your drink?"

"Yes."

The shocked expression marring his phizog dropped at the rate of knots as he kicked Naren in the abdomen.

"Splendid." Taking his handkerchief out from the pant pocket, he wiped off the two drops of ichor splattered across her face.

He crouched down, took hold of Naren's legs, dragged his hefty frame into one of the toilet cubicles, and bolted the door.

"Let's go." He ordered, clutching her arm.

Hinduja's eyebrows furrowed. "Wait." She marched directly towards the toilet cubicle. "I think I saw something on his chest while hitting him."

"What?" Raghav tailed her.

Unlocking the door, she kneeled down, unfastened the top four buttons of his shirt underneath his blazer, and pulled the shirt apart from both sides.

"This?!" Raghav crouched down next to her, placing his palm on Naren's inked chest. "The inverted letters JB? Isn't it that same tattoo?"

"It is." She mumbled. "Naren Ranawat works for the Syndicate. He is a really close associate of the leader." She added her verdict. "Raman sir's informer Nandu, he said that that man from Bhagwantpura used to enter the private suite on the second floor of this club, right? On Wednesday and Sunday nights?"

"Yes." Raghav nodded, his mind racing in the same route as hers.

"Let's go there then." She swirled her tongue over her upper lip. "We might find our answers there."

"Yeah."

Locking the door of the toilet cubicle, both of them exited the washroom.

Raghav put his finger inside his ear, pressing the device attached to his concha. "Patty, Raman, second floor. Now."

Both of them strode in the direction of the lift.

A few minutes later, Raghav exited the lift, followed by Hinduja. They exchanged glances as a troop of guards came into their view from a distance away.

"You know the drill?" He smiled.

"You mean your kind's lack of control to keep their penises inside their pants the moment a woman enters inside?" She smirked.

"Kind of." He chuckled.

She turned, her lips curling up to form a charmingly sultry smile. "Let's get started then."

The guards watched them both with keen eyes as Raghav said. "We have a booking here today."

One of the guards nodded, putting his palm forward. "Pass?"

Hinduja winked, looking at him. He swallowed, smiling shyly.

Raghav promptly took out his club pass from his blazer and placed it on the guard's palm. "She is my plus one, and we have two more friends coming."

"Alright." The man in black security gear nodded, going through his pass, which didn't specify his profession. "You can go."

The DCP nodded as the profiler linked her arm with his. They walked further away from the guards in the long corridor with dim lighting.

Tipping his chin at the door on the far end of the corridor, he whispered. "That's the private suite."

"Okay." She replied as both of them strolled towards the room to the left side of the private suite. They unlocked the door and entered inside.

"You booked this?" She probed as she settled inside.

"Yes." He locked the door.

"Sir," She began. "To know who are the people inside the private suite, we have to either step inside that room or peep in through the peephole. And to carry out either of these, we have to create a diversion for the guards." She met his eyes. "What do you think?"

"Right." He agreed. "I have a plan."

Thrusting his finger inside his ear, he tapped on the microphone. "Patty, Raman. Don't come up. Stay right there." He paused. "Throw fists, argue, or do whatever you want, but create chaos on the ground floor. There are guards here, and to examine the private suite, we need to divert them to the ground floor or somewhere else. Just do something."

"Sure, sir!" A voice echoed from the other end.

"Let's wait." Raghav announced and met her gaze. "And yes, don't call me sir from here onwards. I just told everyone who asked me about you, that you are my fiancée. So, any random-ass nickname or just my name would do, but not sir, yeah?"

"Sure, sir." Hinduja clasped her arms behind her back.

The DCP raised a brow.

She sighed. "Sure, Raghav."

He shrugged. "Good."

Roughly a few minutes down the line, a loud, manly howl erupted from downstairs as Ramandeep's firm voice echoed in both of their ears from their respective microphones. "Done."

They heard heavy footsteps dashing somewhere outside the door, possibly the guards running downstairs. Hinduja shot up from the L-shaped velvety sofa as Raghav unbolted the door and walked out.

The whole corridor was empty, with masculine roars reverberating from downstairs.

"Must be Patty." Raghav chuckled. "He is an expert in this."

"Time to work." Hinduja countered and got out of the room, taking long strides towards the private suite.

She aligned her ear onto the door to eavesdrop while Raghav peeped in through the peephole.

"What the fuck!" He could barely contain his own voice.

"What happened?" She glanced at him. "Who is in there?"

"The same people who were around Vaikunth Patil that day while he was on that call with Dubey."

"You mean?" Hinduja gulped, her heart beating at an irregular pace.

"Jayachandran Bohra, Vikram Seth, Jaidev Kanwar, Anirban Sarkaar--" He paused with a sigh. "Mahadevan Dogra and another man. I have seen him with Mahadevan in magazines and interviews at times. It's Karim Khan, I guess. Mahadevan's chief of security."

Hinduja's chest tightened as she gulped again. "Okay."

"May be all of these people, or perhaps one or a few of them, are part of the syndicate." She added.

"I can't say anything about the others, but it's definitely not Mahadevan and Karim." He shook his head, still looking through the peephole. "I know him, Hinduja. He is not that type."

"We will see that later." She mumbled.

"Hey, you two!" All of a sudden, someone hollered from the other end of the corridor, where the lift and staircase were located. "What are you two doing there?!"

The senior-junior duo about-faced in an instant and rushed towards the guard to subdue him.

Raghav caught hold of him while Hinduja punched him straight in the face. He yawped in pain.

Sensing some movements from inside the private suite, Raghav pressed down his palm rigidly on the guard's mouth while hauling him into the room he had booked. Hinduja got hold of a brass vase kept on the center table and hammered it right on top of the guard's skull while he clutched a portion of her outfit from the shoulder side.

The guard dropped down on the granite floor, taking along Hinduja in the process, which caused a tear in her off-white jumpsuit. She clutched the dress tightly to her chest to prevent it from slipping down and cause any wardrobe malfunction.

"Woman, what's with you today?" Raghav placed his fists on his waist. "You have hit two men on their heads and left them unconscious within one evening."

"Don't they feel excitement while chopping heads too?" She smirked. "I just subconsciously returned the favor."

Raghav instantly got the message behind her words.

Just then, the door dashed open once again as a towering, buff, and virile figure rushed inside, followed by another man in black security gear.

Hinduja looked on with her eyes agape as her husband marched towards her, his rigid gaze reposing on her torn dress and bare back for a few seconds. His jaw ticked. "Karim, lock the door."

Mahadevan glanced at his batchmate. "What's going on here?" He seethed, gritting the molars on his lower jaw against the ones on his upper jaw.

Raghav stared at everything in a daze, probably because of encountering his batchmate almost after a decade in person. But unaware of the reality, when he sensed him inching closer to the profiler, his junior, his protective instincts kicked in. He hurried towards the lady and stood up in front of her.

"Stay away!" He announced firmly, meeting Mahadevan's eyes. "That's my fiancée! The guard tried to assault her, so I was forced to hit him." He immediately took off his coat and enveloped the profiler with it, hiding her torn dress.

Karim took in a sharp breath, awaiting the impending disaster.

"What did you say?" A diabolical glint flashed past the Dogra Patriarch's eyes. The matriarch avoided connecting her gaze with his, though. "Who is she to you?"

He chuckled sinisterly, his deeply bassed voice carrying a dark edge.

Something had suddenly changed in the room. Even the DCP could feel it.

"Mahadevan, she is my fiancée." He repeated, despite the ill feeling gnawing at the lower end of his guts. "Stay away."

"Raghav." Hinduja clutched his wrist. "Calm down."

Mahadevan's eyes trailed on the DCP's arm that was wound around his wife's waist. His fists balled automatically as a vicious smile took over his lips.

His eyes darted to the unconscious man lying on the floor.

"Sahib." Karim gulped. "You are needed there."

The red-rimmed eyes of the Dogra patriarch averted from the guard to his wife and her senior. She was staring at her watch instead.

"Good luck, Katoch." He mumbled under his breath, in a voice barely audible to his own eardrums, turned around, and strode out of the chamber with Karim on his tail.

Raghav went behind them as someone else crossed the threshold of the room, entering inside.

The figure loomed in the shadows, arms folded loosely against his chest, the faint glow of the room casting an ethereal light upon his chiseled visage.

She stared at him with a mix of confusion and hesitancy. Somehow, he did appear familiar. "Greetings, Baudi."

He inclined his head slightly, a crooked smile playing upon his lips, scanning her face with a deliberate slowness. "He was right. You are divinely beautiful."

"Naina!" Raghav called out, keeping her cover intact. She averted her gaze from the stranger and walked past him without taking a second look at his face.

"Anirban!" she heard her husband's voice from somewhere next to the private suite as the DCP enclosed his palm around her wrist and dragged her along with him to the staircase.

A quarter of an hour later, Hinduja and Raghav progressed towards the parking lot of the club while Patwardhan and Ramandeep limped behind them.

"I swear, I will be a sweeper in my next birth, but never ever join the police force again!" Patwardhan hollered.

Ramandeep laughed.

"At least, after this, we have narrowed down on a few suspects." Raghav clicked his tongue.

Hinduja, meanwhile, seemed as if she was in a stupor, lost somewhere in her own thoughts.

"What happened, Rao?" Raghav probed, noticing her furrowed brows.

"The inverted tattoo of the alphabets J.B., sir." She trailed. "Now that I think about it again, could it be Jayachandran Bohra?"

The three males stared at her wide-eyed.

"His initials are also J.B. Right?" She scratched her chin as they stopped in front of the two SUVs they had travelled in. "J for Jayachandran and B for Bohra?"

***

| 22nd May, 2023 |

| Monday |

| 0830 Hours |

The whole night he was away from home, returning just at the crack of dawn.

In the morning, she left Anirudh in Geeta's and Poorna's care and left for her office again.

The moment she stepped inside the SIT headquarters, a different kind of silence greeted her ears. The stillness in the air was unusual, providing her with a negative sensation.

She pushed open the conference hall door and vaulted over its threshold.

Her gaze traipsed around the whole room.

"Jai Hind, sir." She bowed slightly, greeting Aravind, but what felt out of place the most was the empty chair to his left.

DCP Raghav Katoch was nowhere to be seen.

And the negative feeling was back again, brutally clawing at her conscience. "Where is Raghav sir?"

Aravind sighed while the rest of the team sat with their shoulders loose and spirits low.

"Sir has been transferred to Port Blair." Rukmini replied, dejectedly.

"What?!" Hinduja viewed them all dumbfoundedly, but somewhere at the back of her head, she kind of knew what all of this was about. "In the middle of the case?"

Her instincts screamed the reason behind her senior's sudden transfer, right at her face. Only one name echoed in her mind.

She gritted her teeth. "Rukmini," she called out. "Help me with something."

Rukmini promptly got up from her seat.

Aravind and the others witnessed everything in confusion but didn't utter a word.

"I have something urgent to look after." Hinduja smiled. "I will be back in a while."

An hour down the lane, Hinduja parked her Scorpio in the manor garage and strutted straight in the direction of the Dogra Patriarch's official workspace.

"Madam." Karim, Manoramaa, and Gurung tried to stop her in between, but she raised her palm commandingly, signaling them to stop.

"Solitude!" An authoritatively firm feminine voice clashed against the high walls of the Dogra manor.

Karim, Manoramaa, and Gurung bowed, all at once, and immediately left the spot.

She plunged open the door and strutted in his direction, slamming an envelope on the shiny wooden surface of his worktable.

Mahadevan cracked his knuckles and stood up from the presidential chair, his gaze momentarily falling on the object she had slammed on the table a few seconds ago. "What happened?" He folded his herculean arms across his chest.

Her gaze darted back to the C4-sized paper envelope, resting on the table.

"I want a divorce."

***

Excited?

***