Chapter Four - Unexpected

Mr. Wadawasi wondered where Mr. Sinha was. Must be screwing around one of Devyani's women, though the grey haired host, with a slow shake of his head. He decided to let the matter go. His secretary's frantic looks showed him more pressing matters were on his hand.

The venerable Mr. Wadawasi was not far from wrong. Indeed, his assumption was absolutely correct. Mr. Sinha was being pleasured by three of Devyani's women, in a suite in the Taj - as Mr. Wadawasi turned to ask his secretary what the matter was.

The three women who had been chosen by Devyani to serve her oldest and richest client were exceptionally beautiful. There was Nameera, the new girl Devyani had entwined in her foul circle. Then there was Rosie, who was one of Devyani's most experienced women. And then there was Anjali. Devyani's prized possession, her top class girl. Strictly reserved for the quality clients, or new ones.

Anjali had come into town eight years ago, with nothing but thousand rupees in her pocket and extraordinarily beautiful looks. Having been unceremoniously thrown out of her house for having the ambition of being a model, she had come, with fierce pride, to prove her father wrong.

It was in this period of hurt that Devyani had found her, alone in a new city - trying to find a place to stay. To Anjali, Devyani was a god send, an answer to all her prayers. Having brought her home after soothing carresses and sympathetic nods, Devyani had proceeded to give her a glass of warm milk, and some hot food.

Anjali had woken up three days later, so strong had been the pill, in a new bed and no clothes. She had glanced down, her vision hazy and disoriented. The first thing she had noticed, when her vision had cleared was her blood, caked in between her thighs.

Eight years had been a long time, and now Anjali had no ambition to become a model. If these eight years had taught her one thing, it was that dreams were just another extension of hope. Something that would keep you alive, only so you could look at your face in the mirror, and spit at it.

* * *

Khushi suppressed a little smirk, as Akash slid into her car with an annoyed look at the car, at the nervous valet and at the world in general. After having extricated a promise to locate Akash's stolen car from Mr. Wadawasi, she had offered a ride back home, which he had accepted, after half a minute of... frowning.

The road, glowing an orange yellow under the fierce glare of the street lights, was dotted by a number of pedestrians and cars. Not enjoying the silence, Khushi switched on the radio, and smiled as the strains of the melody strummed out of the speaker.

Chand si mehbooba ho meri, kab aaisa maine socha tha
Haan tum bilkool waisi ho, jaisa maine socha tha
Chand si mehbooba ho meri, kab aaisa maine socha tha
Haan tum bilkool waisi ho, jaisa maine socha tha

 

Khushi closed her eyes as the song bought back happy memories. To Akash, she seemed just like moonlit beauty of the song.

* * *

There it stood, his pride and one of life's greatest joys, his Ferrari. The venerable Ferrari spider - sleek, black and powerful. A bit like himself, Arnav often said, with a laugh on his face. He was not wrong. He was after all... bastard Arnav Raizada.
 
The black colour reminded him of the colour of her dress. Black, silky and sensually erotic. The way it had carressed her curves, flaring out. Just enough to tease every man in that room. She had stayed true to the name she had given herself, and had stolen every man’s heart. Khushi Klepto Gupta. He rolled the name on the tip of his tongue. Not a very bad name, he thought.

Arnav sped away into the dark night, his thoughts solely foccused on Khushi Klepto Gupta and her swinging derriere.

 

* * *

 

The solid brown door was quietly opened by the stoic butler, as Khushi skipped in, unusually happy. There was no particular reason for the sudden euphoria, it was just there. She was welcomed home by with a goblet of wine in her father's hand and a benign smile. She carelessly handed her diamond clutch to the butler and faced her father with a smile.

 

"How bad was it?"

 

She chuckled lightly at that, her father knew her too well. "Boring. But I think I just earned us a higher profit scale"

 

"Atta girl"

 

After ten minutes of light banter, which included Khushi promising to make pancakes for him the next morning, her father strode off into the bedroom, to sleep. Khushi went to her room too, after staring into the flickering flames of the fireplace for a few minutes.

There was an odd restlessness in her. She threw open her window, and marvelled at the beauty of serenity the night air offered. Such a night, she thought, would be wasted away sleeping.

 

In accord to her decision, she grabbed her jeans and an old top. Reaching for her chappals, she stepped in front of the mirror to comb her hair into a high ponytail. After achieving the satisfactory result, she walked out of the house, telling the butler that she'd walk in through the kitchen entrance.

 

The beauty of the night could not be fully appreciated from the window, Khushi thought, while ambling aimlessly. This was a rare moment, a moment the paparazzi would have loved to capture. Where the lovely Ms. Gupta was out at night, only not inside a club.

Lost in her musings about what exactly the headlines would say if somebody found her out like this, Khushi never realised when she had ambled into the middle of the road. A sudden white light blinded her momentarily, and Khushi felt her heart race in fear as a rusty, second hand Maruti 800 approached her with breakneck speed. So scared was she, that she could not even feel the impact of the collision.

 

Khushi felt a sharp pain in her head, as she fell down. She felt the blood gush through her head. She could not feel her legs properly. There was a hollow ring in her ear. She fought the blackness off, refusing to find solace in the comfort it provided. Funny, she thought, in an attempt to keep her eyes open. Wasn't this when her life should flash before her eyes?

 

The last thing Khushi saw, before letting the black press around her comfortingly, was the face a pretty woman, asking her not to die.

A/N: hey guys, thanks for the patience and the wishes. Have my last exam tomorrow, but I still updated!

 

And this is dedicated to MsIPKKNDManic. She’s honestly a brick.