Wrong Side Of The Bed

41 | you know i love a london boy.

JANNAT'S P.O.V

IT TOOK ONLY FOUR WORDS to turn my world upside down.

I was strutting around the hall in a red mini Oscar de la Renta dress, laughing and waving at people I knew, laughing and making friends with those I didn't know… yet. With cut-out velvet paillette petals, and hand-crafted on a corset petticoat, the dress was exactly what I wanted to convey — a youthful and daring elan. My outfit was stealing the show in this soiree, and I damn well enjoyed it.

Beside me, there were two other people here who had immaculate fashion sense — the Sarkar sisters. The older one, Iravati Sarkar, was clad in a purple long shimmery cocktail dress, and an eye-catching clinched waistline that I could see from the other side of the room. The younger one, Chyou Liang-Sarkar, was in a black fitted dress, with a boat neckline, dramatic puff sleeves, and was sporting an extravagant silver headpiece — everything was too wonderful for me to not notice. I learned that Iravati was studying law and wanted to join their dad's firm, and Chyou was a struggling gifted kid who had graduated school at the age of fifteen and knew ten languages — and that for now, she really didn't know what she wanted to do. While she couldn't make clothes herself or had the knack for tailoring, she sure did have an eye for style — I had to admit. It didn't take me too long to figure out that their father was Arjun Sarkar, the managing partner and one of the founders of Sarkar Schmidt, one of the best three major New York city law firms. I was so lost in a conversation with them — as they were both Bengalis, our conversations ranged from fashion to our city back home, Kolkata — that I hadn’t felt my phone vibrate in my little Bottega Veneta satin clutch. When I had finally excused myself and had taken a trip to the ladies' room and had, at last, checked my phone — I had thirty missed calls from Sinclair.

Smiling to myself, I immediately called him back — because along with some absolutely drop dead gorgeous pictures of me in my dress, I had also sent him some cheeky pictures. I couldn't wait to hear what he had to say about the pictures, and I also couldn't wait to tell him how much I had missed him. And thirty missed calls? Oh, he was eager, wasn't he—

"Jannat," A grave voice filtered in. My heart instantly plummeted down to my stomach. Agatha? Why was Agatha in possession of Sinclair's phone? Had he left it at home? But then why did she sound like that? 

"Agatha?" I inquired. "Is everything okay—"

"Christian and Lucas," She said, and the next words shook my entire world with an unfathomable intensity. Agatha's voice broke and clearly whatever she was about to say was lost and swallowed as she choked out the next word. "Accident." 

For a moment, I couldn't believe my ears. The world around me stilled for a millisecond as Agatha's words echoed in my ears. My world flipped upside down. "What?"

"An accident," She bit out, sobbing. "Christian was unconscious when they wheeled him in. Lucas was conscious but he was so badly injured and—" She broke into another fit of sobs and my legs weakened under me and I wobbled on my heels. I slumped forward and grabbed the dirty wash basin counter for support.

"Unconscious?" I stuttered, my mouth drying up. Panic flared up inside me and I felt the tremor of my panic everywhere — from my shoulders to me legs to my hands — and oh God, if something had happened to Sinclair, I'd have fucking burned this whole world down. If something happened to him…

"Agatha," I said, my voice wavering and steely strong at the same time. "Send me the address."

Within exactly two minutes, I was out of the mansion and in my car, and I had already instructed the driver to reach the place as quickly as possible. Baba and Dad rushed out after me, but I only had to say "Sinclair and Lucas, accident" and they instantly understood. Baba and Dad said that they'd be following me to the hospital shortly after they bid goodbye to their friend and told him about the whole situation — but I couldn't even care less. At this moment, I didn't care if I had to run all the way to the hospital in my heels and cocktail dress — because fuck it, I would have done it. My hands were shaking vigorously on the way as every worst possible scenario flitted into my mind like scenes on a film reel, and I even choked out a sob when the thought of Sinclair being hurt and waiting for me crossed my mind. He knew I was going to come for him, right? He had to know it. Whoever had caused the accident was going to be sued to hell and back, and I was going to strip him bare of all he possessed. I was going to take everything from him and make him watch it all burn to ashes.