Page 134 of Wasted Grace

I cut Viraj off and continue, effectively ignoring him. “I’ll be meeting a CBI rep tomorrow. I’ll spill my guts about my suspicions about Mehul Bedi. Dev will have Madani Academy as a standby bait for Mehul to escalate. We will let the asshole bleed into our systems. We will let him gather asmuchsynthetic information about the academy before we... well...gut him.”

Greesha pales. And unnatural rage takes over her face as she turns her attention to Viraj behind me. I don’t look at him. I barely care for his reactions.

Instead, I watch Dev frown. His eyes darting between all three of us. As if waiting for a confirmation about this stupid butsoundplan.

I don’t keep him waiting.

Instead I smile—the best professional twist of my lips. “All set?”

My gaze falls on everyone in the room for a few seconds. A stifling, tensed silence taking over. I don’t fucking wait.

“All set, then,” I mutter.

And then I walk off to my room without another word.

THIRTY-SEVEN

Greesha

When I found the bleeding corpses of my parents in ourveranda, watching the blood slowly seep into the brick-ridden cracks on the ground—finding its geometric path to me—I realized that my reality isn’t what I see. It is forged bysomeone else.

I wasdevastated.

When I put pretty little holes into my family members’ heads—carving an unwritten rule for the rest of my family—to never defy me.Me, the ghost they never saw coming?

I wasliberated.

When Karim used my body as a tool, but left my mind partially sound enough to fuck with his machinations—

I wasbroken.

Today? Having Viraj—the man who held my hand through the time I was picking up the broken pieces—shamelessly jeopardize the mission by putting my Advik through danger?

I find myself...rebuilding.

Because Viraj didn’thealme. He put a bandaid on my trauma. Shaped me into a viablemachine. He built circumstances that will have me clinging to the sense ofusefulnessthat I had started lacking. Because mission objectives overrule humanity for him, don’t they?

I see it now. I saw it before too.

“Dev,” I say calmly, still staring at Viraj. “I need you to go to the guest bedroom and stay there for the next twenty minutes. Close the door.”

Dev doesn’t argue. He scurries down the hallway. The moment I hear the door click shut, I speak.

“Sit, Lakshit,” I nod at the armchair next to him. “Let’s chat, shall we?”

His brows dip in surprise but he doesn’t let go of the sliver of control he thinks he still has.

Even as he obeys and settles down, I watch him. Studying his features that seem awfully calm—considering whether his little game is up.

Why? Why would he suggest this... thisescalationwhen we’ve been working on finding the best trap?

I wonder why he had Advik abandon the wedding halfway and had him return so quickly. I also think about the fact that he proposed this plan to him while I was gone.

I don’t usually pick Dev up. Viraj has been doing it for the past week. Which is why—today—when he asked me to pick him up because he was coming to the apartment earlier—I was surprised.

I sit on the couch, the dented coffee table between us.

“Ask,” he says. His voice is equally calm as it is deadly.