"Ms. MURTHY , we will be landing in h-half an h-hour," the flight attendant stammered.
Nodding, I simply raised my glass, but the moron was so scared, he couldn't even pour the wine right. I narrowed my eyes at the red stains on my new white Armani jacket before glaring at him. I snatched the bottle from his damn hands.
"I'm so-"
"Don't say sorry," I said in a low hiss. "You aren't even on the threshold of sorry yet."
His eyes widened before taking a step back and backing straight into Cabir, who already had a gun pointed at the back of his skull.
"All we really need is the pilot, ma'am," Cabir said simply. It's too early in the morning for blood.
I shook my head at Cabir. He sulked for a moment but did what he was told and lowered his GLOCK
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Cabir sighed before taking a seat in front of me. "It was a nice jacket. You should have let me kill him."
"My father wasn't pleased with the bloodstains I left in the last jet." I smirked, lifting the picture of my future husband. Husband. I cringed at the word.
I wouldn't deny he was attractive-highly attractive, in fact. But I would need more than Honey eyes, dark brown sex hair, and a charming smile. He wasn't very muscular either, but he looked fast and strong and too tall .
"His full name is Manik Malhotra, age twenty-seven. He graduated high school at fifteen," Cabir said, sorting through the photos.
"Is he clean?" If he wasn't, we could buy whatever drug was needed. Everything out there had a cure . . . with the right credit card. Cabir nodded , "As a damn whistle," He said, almost disappointed. "From his current health records in jail, he is healthier than a racehorse, which is surprising with amount of time he has been locked down. His actions of choice-He isn't depressed or, he's-" I leaned back in my seat, finishing my wine hearing cabir Blabbed about My Poor Husband.
"Ms. Murthy, we are now in Mumbai," the pilot informed me as I rose from my seat.
Mike, my body guard and third in command opened the plane door, stepping out first, followed by two other men carrying my things. , stood at the entrance that idiot attendant of the plane trying his best not to make eye contact with any of us as we reached him.
"Ha-ave a g-good day, Ms. Murthy."
I walked out and found a shiny black limo waiting for me. Stopping next to Mike, I tried not to roll my eyes.
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Where am I going, prom?
"Mike, see if you can get me a car, in white . . . and soon." I sighed.
I did not want to be driven. I wanted to drive. I needed to drive. It was one of my four S's. Swimming, shooting, sex, and speed were the only four things that could help clear my mind.
"Yes, ma'am," he said, pulling out his phone, already speaking to someone. If Cabir was my right hand, then Mike was my left. He was never taken by surprise. He didn't need to be acknowledged or even seen, and only spoke when necessary.
Unlike Cabir and me, he was the only half-Italian. His blond hair made him stick out He just shaved most of it all off.
Cabir stood beside me and handed me my personal phone. There was only one person who had the number.
"Hello father, calling to make sure I got on the plane?" I asked, while Mike and Cabir arranged for a new car.
He laughed "Oh my sweet little girlI I would never doubt you. After all, you were the one who told me to host you a Birthday party "
"Baba I want you to come to my House tomorrow ?" I answered, just as a white Aston Martin pulled up in front of me. Smirking, I turned toward Mike and Cabir and nodded, that was much better.
" I turn twenty-eight on Saturday."
"I am aware." Baba Replied casually
Was He? "That's a year older than when You had gotten married to my mother."
He laughed. "Is that why you've been agitated...well, more agitated...than normal lately? Whats Going on with you My sweet little doll lately "
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Taking the keys from Mike, I slid in and pointed for him to get in, too. He'd done well. He could ride alongside me.
" Nothing Baba( Father)" I snorted, pressing my foot on the gas, a row of black sedans followed behind me as
I pulled out of the airport.
"My dear, if you were not my daughter, I would fear you." I could hear the smile in his voice over the phone.
"It's because I am your daughter that you should fear me." In his day, Baba could make grown men cry and beg for a bullet. If Baba got his hands on them, pain was guaranteed.
"You are one of the best who has ever been." He was right.
"Ma'am." Mike cleared his throat, holding my work phone.
"I will see you soon. Baba," I said to my father before hanging up.
Mike placed the phone on Bluetooth.
"Make my motherfucking day," I said, breaking the speed limit as I turned the corner.
"With pleasure, ma'am," Cabir replied. "Raghav , Harshad Saxena 's right-hand man, fucked up big and drove drunk. Guess who picked him up?" "Cabir . . ." I said, my tone laced with anger. He knew better than to ever play guess-who with me.
"As luck would have it, Vadu was the one who pulled him over and brought him to us. He's waiting in the room under the house, so drugged up he can't see straight . . but he's still not talking." "Goodbye, Cabir," I said as Mike ended the call.
"Motherfucking day made, ma'am?"
I just nodded, driving closer and closer to my future husband, my empire, and some new intel. "Yes, Monte, motherfucking day made."
