Page 9 of Wasted Grace

Nearly a year ago, Karim “married” me. More accurately, he bought me—under Abdul-Rashid’s command. And I was just tactfully placed at the right time.

I expected violence. Expected depravity. And he delivered.

In stages.

I expected ignorance until lust took over. I expected belts until blood took over.

Bruises. Always in places that wouldn’t show. The burqa adorning the map of my chosen torment.

Always calculated. Always just enough to make me remember who I belonged to.

But I wasn’t blind going in. Ichosethis.

I volunteered for the assignment. Because this was the only way to get close.

I had to wait until he trusted me—until he started spilling operational details in front of me like I was nothing. I had to be small. Quiet. Submissive. A ghost in a wife’s skin.

Karim is second-in-command to Abdul-Rashid.

Level 3 threat, per our RAW files. Dangerous, but a pawn.

Rashid? Level 2. Unhinged. Volatile. Combative. A fucking nightmare.

After the Mumbai local train blasts five years ago, RAW had tracked both men hiding in Pune. Then they vanished. Resurfaced in Afghanistan. Changed names. Changed faces.

By the time their location resurfaced, I had taken a leave from the agency.

Why?

Because I’d fallen stupidly in love with Advik Sharma.

Because I thought I could have anormallife.

What a joke. Normal’s a fucking myth.

And now, here I am.

My burqa is torn. Bloodied. Slipping off one shoulder. The rope burns on my wrists scream every time I twitch.

Karim was never this violent before. At least, not thisblatantly.

But last night—he came home wearing fury.

I didn’t even get a chance to greet him, play the part.

He jabbed a needle into my neck before I could speak.

My last thought as the world went dark? Rage. I’d been compromised.

And now, 22 hours later, I’m tied to a chair. Bleeding. Weak.

But not broken. Hopefully.

“Karim...” I growl, voice thick with blood. “You know what happens if I don’t check in with my handler. They’ll find you. You and Rashid both.”

He narrows his eyes.

“So do yourself a favor,” I cough, blood dripping from the corner of my mouth. “Kill me now. Andrun.”