Page 63 of Born in Sin

“Beautiful,” Kabir murmured, kissing Cara’s arm and rubbing a hand up and down her back, automatically gentling her and offering comfort. “In every iteration.”

Virat bit his tongue, the salty tang of blood flooding his mouth as he kept his agreement to himself.

“So, we’re going to send him this picture.” Cara leaned into Kabir, seeming to need his warmth to steady her.

“We are,” Virat confirmed, adding a hard copy of the picture to the whiteboard. “Along with an old school picture of you, preferably one with him in it.”

“I don’t have any pictures with him. I burned all my school pictures a long time ago.” She rubbed her arms like she was freezing and desperate for some warmth. Kabir added his hands to the effort, gently stroking her arms.

“The school yearbooks,” Dhrithi murmured. “I’m sure there are some class pictures with all of us in the frame.”

“Perfect,” Amay murmured. “So we’re sending him the picture of Celina from the past and the present. And then what?”

“We’re not just sending him the pictures. We’re embedding them with a virus. Once he clicks on it, we will have complete access to his phone. And with that, between the cameras and his phone, we’ll have eyes and ears in his home and on his every movement, physically and virtually.”

“What if he doesn’t click on it?” Cara’s voice sounded disconnected from the present. She looked like she was running through a million scenarios in her head.

“If you send him a picture of yourself, do you think he won’t?”

She stayed silent, looking down at her hands, fingers twisting in an endless spiral.

“You’ve been egging him on, your messages escalating the tone and tenor of your conversations until he’s half out of his mind with worry. My best guess is he’ll click within seconds of receiving the attachment.”

Cara continued to stare at her hands, her gaze turned inward, her thoughts making her frown. And then she looked up at him and said, “Do it.”

Virat held out his hand for her burner phone and she handed it over, her fingers grazing his palm, the precious contact a delicious burn that overrode the intensity of the moment.

He tapped out the message, keeping it simple.

It’s me.

The message and the attachment went out into the ether on a soundless whoosh. Ishaan sat down at the laptop, his feral gaze on the screen as he worked the keyboard like a lunatic on steroids. A second later, a fierce grin spread across his face.

“We’re in.”

A quiet cheer went up in the room, the palpable tension dissipating slightly. Cara came to stand beside Ishaan whose fingers were still flying over the keyboard. An inscrutable expression on her face, she watched as Majid paced on the screen, the camera from his living room giving them a bird’s eye view of his agitation. He tugged at his hair and shook his head as he walked the length of the large hall.

“We’re in,” Virat echoed quietly, his words for her ears alone.

“We are,” she agreed. “Congratulations. This is a stroke of genius.”

Ishaan’s gaze darted between the two of them and he rose to his feet with a muttered ‘Excuse me’ and disappeared in Mayukhi’s direction.

“I apologise for earlier,” he told her.

“Don’t apologise to me.” Cara nodded towards Kabir. “Apologise to him.”

“I will.” Her protectiveness towards the other man was familiar and painful. He’d lost the right to her loyalty but he was still glad she had someone who warranted it in her life.

“You guys are good together,” he added, though the words were shards of glass in his throat. “I’m happy for you.”

“Are you?” she asked, her eyes, flaming embers as they met his. “That’s a bit rich coming from you.” She stepped closer, her voice dropping. “The Dusty Devils didn’t destroy me but you came damn close, Vir.”

He nodded, not looking away.

“You don’t know what you did to me,” she whispered, stepping away.

She walked away from him and to Kabir. He stared at the picture of an older Celina that still smiled out at him from the center of his whiteboard.