Love Returned

Chapter - 2

Hello to my lovely dear readers. Guess what ? Yes I'm finally starting to update this book. If you enjoy the chapters, stay tuned. 

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Radhika's pov : 

My ears ring from the voice of the laughter that reaches me. 

"What can we say Batra Sir? I'm just not worried. I'm pretty sure I'm gonna win this seat. Besides, she's a woman." 

The soon-to-be MLA, or he thought he was the soon-to-be MLA, laughed again. 

I stare at the man sitting on the chair on the other side of the table, as I put the cups of tea down on the table. My father stares back at me and shakes his head slightly. 

I put on a fake smile, and turn around. "Namaste uncle" I greet. 

"Oh, Radhika Bitiya. How are you ?" he asks me with a smile directed less at me and more at my chest.  

Pervert. 

Now I wasn't surprised that he was a disgusting man, when it came to women. But to look at the daughter of someone who was technically a lot superior than you with perverted eyes? That was low. 

Can't blame him though. It might have become a habit after all this time of being a little bitch. 

"I'm good uncle. And how are you and your wife doing ?" I asked. 

I hope she leaves your sorry ass, was what I wanted to add, but didn't. 

"As you can see. Well and fit." he gestured to himself, as his own gaze roamed over my body, lingering on my breasts, and then my hips. 

I gritted my teeth, but didn't give anything away with my smile in place. I wanted to get out of this room. But more than that, I wanted to take out the pistol from my father's drawer, push the barrel in this man's mouth, and pull the trigger. I wanted to pull that trigger more than anything. 

I excused myself from the room, not really surprised by my violent thoughts. I've stopped feeling shocked at these violent thoughts that started haunting my brain more frequently than before. Maybe because instead of fighting them, I welcomed them with open arms. 

I still remembered the fresh memory when for the first time, I had a thought like that. I was merely 16. I had seen pictures of my sister online with her boyfriend at the time. I had seen those pictures because they had gone viral. Papa was an MP back then. He had won his first Lok Sabha election. He had just gotten used to the taste of victory and power. But with victory came enemies. The down side of having power in your hands was people who constantly tried to snatch that power away. People paid close attention to your weaknesses, and the more you rose in the world of politics, the more weaknesses you gained. And family was the biggest weakness that was ready to be used against you at any time. At least that's what I learned through the years, by paying close attention to this game of politics that my father played. 

After the incident of the pictures of my sister going viral, damage control was to be done. Contrary to what most people might believe, our father was not an abuser. He never hit us. Never raised his voice on us. But he didn't need to. Unlike other politicians, he didn't need to curse people out. He never threw fits of frustration. No. As I said, my father was too good at this game he played. And to him, every single person in his life was a piece on his chessboard. Family or not. He'd do anything to win. He'd be ready for any pawn to be eliminated, as long as victory was his. 

That day, he had simply called me and my sister, Vedika, in his office. Vedika had been crying, I could see. I was staring at her, trying to tell her without speaking, to act strong and not let papa see that, that guy, in fact was her weakness. But our father called us in his office. Sat on his throne behind his desk. Stared her down. Seconds ticked by. Minutes passed. He didn't speak a word. Forcing my sister to break in front of him, without even lifting a finger. After 15 long minutes, she broke down. Apologized.