Page 5 of Born in Sin (Phoenix #3)

Chapter Three

VIRAT

So, can I tell you a secret?

The words from more than a decade ago still haunted him. How many times had they said that to each other? How many secrets had they shared? How many lives had they lived in the moments they’d stolen from fate?

“Is it them?” Celi, no Cara, he reminded himself, whispered, her eyes wide, her skin ashen.

Virat nodded, his hand going to hold her when she swayed but she backed away from him, slashing a fresh wound in his heart. She pressed a hand to her chest, as if to contain her heart, before sitting down on the narrow couch that lined one wall of the van.

“Tell me,” she said after a moment, her voice steadying as she breathed deep and slow.

“Do you remember Dhrithi from school?” he asked, leaning against the other end of the van, trying to give her as much space as the cramped space would allow.

“Of course,” Cara answered. “She married Varun Gokhale. He died in a recent car crash, didn’t he?”

“He did.” Virat nodded.

“Forgive me if I don’t mourn him,” she said, a caustic note in her voice.

Virat almost smiled at the hint of the Celi he knew, the Celi he –

He slammed the brakes on that thought.

“None of us do,” he answered. “You’ve kept track of the old crowd?”

She shrugged. “Self-preservation. There was some speculation in the rumour mill that the accident wasn’t an accident.”

“She didn’t kill him,” Virat said.

“I wouldn’t blame her if she did.” Cara’s mask was firmly in place even as fire lit her eyes.

“Varun was an abusive shit. Dhrithi was fleeing him that night. He rammed his car into hers to get her to stop. He didn’t anticipate the result of the action.”

Cara took a careful sip of her water. “I can’t say thinking through the consequences of his actions had ever ranked high on Varun’s priorities,” she murmured.

Virat laughed, a scoffing sound. “It opened up a can of worms. The police are all over it.”

“Of course they are.” Her voice stayed steady, a testament to her iron will. Virat’s heart gave another throb. “And what is it that they’re up to this time? Drugs peddling? Financial fraud? Insider trading? Organised rape?”

Virat flinched at the last one.

“Ahh,” she said, her face not showing a fraction of what he knew must be coursing through her. Again, his hand inched towards her, until he reminded himself he had no right to touch her, to comfort her. He curled his hand into a fist and dropped it to his side.

“So far, all searches of Varun’s properties, both known and unknown, have turned up nothing. The case has lost some of its fire, but they haven’t dropped it yet. Whatever these guys were up to, they’ve been very careful to cover their tracks.”

Cara frowned. “That doesn’t sound like them. Majid, maybe to some extent, but the rest of them are arrogant dickheads with rocks for brains. They believe, have always believed, that their money will insulate them from any consequences.”

“And it has,” Virat said quietly. “In the past.”

“Majid doesn’t have that kind of control over them, Vir.” The nickname slipped out of her without conscious thought. “Not for them to pull off shit over years, decades even. They would have slipped up. Somewhere.”

“We’re looking,” he said quietly. “Dhrithi found something in the house she shared with Varun.”

She took the picture he held out to her. For a second, her fingers grazed his and his heart shuddered. Virat swallowed hard and let go of the picture, his gaze scanning her face as she looked at the photograph in her hand.

“Who is she?” she asked, her voice quieter, softened with a level of empathy that she should never have known.

“A bank teller. Her father embezzled funds from them. She was his get out of jail free card.”

“A bank teller.” Cara’s fingers traced the face of the young girl, unshed tears filling her eyes. “Bastards.”

Virat agreed.

“She won’t testify. She’s terrified of retaliation.”

“As she should be.” Cara sniffled, her hand going to wipe a stray tear that escaped her.

“So, they’re blackmailing women and gangraping them.”

Virat hesitated. “It looks like that,” he said. “On the surface.”

“And beneath the surface?”

He hadn’t shared his suspicions with anyone, not even his friends. Without proof, his instincts meant nothing. But if there was one person he could tell…

“I think this is far too organized and has far too much forethought for a simple ‘blackmail for sex’ scheme. There is more to it, more that we are not seeing yet.”

“And?”

“And they’re spiraling as they try to keep it under wraps. They took someone from their own circle, a few weeks ago, as a warning to us.”

“Who?”

“Mayukhi Chatterjee.”

Cara’s eyes widened. “No way,” she breathed. “Isn’t she their friend?”

“Not anymore,” Virat said grimly. “Not since Ishaan and she got together and-“

“Hold on!” Cara got to her feet. “Ishaan and Mayukhi? Together? As in together together??”

And for the first time since they’d met, a small smile touched Virat’s lips. He nodded.

Cara’s mouth dropped open. “I’ve just been drop kicked into a parallel universe,” she squealed. “How? When? Why?”

“It’s an interesting universe,” Virat said. “They haven’t killed each other. Yet,” he added.

Cara just gaped at him.

“Dhrithi and Amay are together now too,” he offered.

“That,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Was inevitable.”

It was. It always had been. Just as he’d thought Celi and he were. Until he’d destroyed her life and not bothered to stay around to help pick up the pieces.

Cara laughed, a small, disbelieving sound. “Man, Crestwood is an incestuous pool of shit but some of that is obviously still good.”

A loud knocking sounded on the door of the van. “Ma’am,” Pari called out. “Shot is ready.”

“I’m coming,” Cara replied, her gaze meeting Virat’s. Their time was up.

“Why are you here? What do you want from me?”

“You needed to know,” he told her. “In case.”

Cara looked at him, her eyes tired in a way that made his heart hurt. “You think the cops will find something from that night?”

Virat nodded. “I think it all started that night. With you.”

He saw her body shudder as the words landed, a blow to her psyche. And then she pulled herself together, building her formidable walls around her as he watched.

“Thank you,” she said, getting to her feet. “For letting me know. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to work.”

“Cara,” he said, her new name on his lips feeling awkward and clumsy. “Be careful.”

“I will.”

“If you ever need anything-“

A disbelieving laugh escaped her. “I should call you?” she asked, completing his sentence for her. “Why would I? Every time I’ve needed you, every time I’ve asked you to stay, you’ve left. You abandoning me after that night taught me well. I don’t depend on anyone but myself.”

Virat fell silent. He wanted to take all her pain, her rage, her shame, and bundle it into himself. But he knew that he’d lost the right to that a long time ago. Like she’d just said, he’d lost the right to her the moment he’d left her in that hospital bed and walked away.

“Virat Jha, fixer to the rich and famous, right?” she drawled now, a sneer tilting her perfect, lush lips up as she glanced at him, over her shoulder.

“You’re the man they call to clean up all the messes they make.

I’ve heard all about you. The hushed whispers, the awed recommendations, the glowing comments. They say you can fix anything.”

Her furious eyes met his. “Are you here to fix me, Mr. Jha?”

He closed his eyes, unable to meet the anguish in hers.

“You can’t fix what you broke. Not today. Not ever.”

He heard the door open and close, a quiet click, the sound a death knell to every unspoken hope he’d ever harboured.

Not today. Not ever. That about summed everything up.