Chapter 3- The Game Begins…
"Aaliya, we have an issue." I said, as she was gazing intently at the person, who the world believed was my boyfriend.
"What?" She pulled herself out of her entranced state.
"Your brother…Angad. He's working on the museum case…"
"What?! He's an idiot. I can't believe he actually took that case…" She sighed, "whose turn is it to get arrested?" She groaned.
"Mine." I said seriously. She rolled her eyes at me. "Angad!" I shouted to him as he walked in.
"What?" He asked, annoyed.
"I'm moving into yours and Aaliya's house. Mine got broken into."
"Awwwww man." He groaned, suddenly my excuse registered and he smirked, "Chor ke ghar chori? I must congratulate that special someone."
"I hate you." I said, glaring at him.
"Yeah, yeah. Me too darling." He said sarcastically.
"Aaliya," I said turning to her. "We have WORK to do. Chalo."
"Chalo." She echoed.
Fianally, we got to what we called "Our Secret Lair," it was actually just an old iron-casting company. The machinery was cool and clean and it was very office like. It had lain unused for years before we discovered it.
"So…what do we do now?" Aaliya asked.
"Well if I know Angad any. His first priority will be to track down the loot. And the first thing for him will be THAT painting." I said pointing to he chateau landscape oil on canvas which hung on our wall as if it was worth a mere Rs. 100. It was humorous actually.
"Well you're right. Even though you don't know Bhai at all…So what do we do with the painting?"
"Keep it, of course." I smirked, "But we could always play a little game with that dumb brother of yours."
"A game? I'm listening." She said. I stomped her watch to pieces on the floor. "So is Angad."
"No privacy. I pity his future wife."
"I appreciate the pity." I muttered.
"What?"
"Nothing. I said. I do too."
"No, but I seriously doubt any idiot would marry that jerk." Aaliya eyed the painting, staring at the signature.
"I know, I regret it too." I blurted without thinking.
"WHAT?!"
"I said I would regret it too." I looked at her as if she were hearing things like a lunatic.
"Hey, yeh artist ka naam kahin suna hai."
"Duh, you've heard it. It's like the most famous dude in Mumbai."
"Sean Hasan…hm, weird. A spot in our lair for the culturally and religiously confused…."
"It's a pseudonym." I explain as is Aaliya were dumb.
"Right."
"Age 33. Real name: S-H-A-N Kapur. Lives in Juhu. Citi Bank Santacruz."
"Citi Bank, eh?" She asks, curiously.
"Yes, my dear. His famous painting, 'Midnight' couldn't have possibly been stolen from the Museum." I explain, too passionately.
"Why?" Aaliya asked, suddenly confused and distressed.
"Because, the museum never had the painting." I smirked.
"Whoa. You definitely lost me."
"The museum had a DUPLICATE. The real painting was sold to a Ms. Aaliya Khanna in October of 2000." I stressed the word, hoping she'd understand the sarcasm.
"Lost me…Come again."
"Well honey, this amazingly large amount of money was transferred from your account to his on the day it was stolen, so technically…you bought it from him."
"You hacked his account?!"
"His pass code was his birthday, how self-centered. He deserved to be conned." I explained.
"But where did the money come from…?" She tilted her head to the left. She looked like a confused dog. I laughed.
"Everything's not meant to be said." I patted her cheek.
After Aaliya brushed off the bits of confusion she stuck to her logic, we both went home.
"So how was WORK?" Angad asked, mockingly saying the word to amuse himself and irritate me.
"Wonderful," I say grinding my teeth, through my hard, sarcastic smile. "How's the case?"
"Fantastic. Speaking of which, I've heard you have some deep internet connections with Citi Bank….wanna explain, Kripa?" He glared at me, expecting an answer.
"Angad. I'm not a fool, you know. In order to question me AT ALL about this case, you, my dear…need court orders or I could report you."
"Report me?" He asked amused, planting a deep, wet kiss on my unsuspecting lips.
"To who?" As his tongue, approached the inner flesh of my cheek, I pulled away.
"Are you trying to seduce information out of me?" I asked him, almost angry.
"I was actually trying to seduce you to bed. But if you have any information, that would be great too."
"Angad, stop nah." His lips trailed down my neck to my collarbone, to the peak of my chest. He pulled at the thin green fabric of my top and I ran my fingers through his hair.
"Did I pick the wrong time?" Aaliya said, uncomfortably.
"Yes." I glared at her. Angad mirrored my glare to Aaliya, "You did."
"Wait a minute you guys! You cannot be mad at me for walking in on you guys while doing something you shouldn't even doing!!!" Aaliya yelled.
"What are you talking about?" I asked, acting confused.
"You are using my brother as your boy-toy and I don't appreciate it." She spat at me.
"Boy toy? What the hell?! No way!" Angad yelled.
"You Bhai!? Don't you feel ashamed of having an affair with a girl that is engaged to someone else?!"
"Engaged?! I'm not engaged to Prithvi!!! I'm already married!!!!" I say in a frenzy. Blood rushes to the curves of my ears and my voice cracks upon the word married. I'm dumb, very very very dumb.
"You and Prithvi are married?!" She asked, throwing her hands up in the air with surprise.
"NO! I'm married to Angad!" I say, throwing my hand up; revealing my wedding band.
Angad turned to me and smiled sarcastically, "You're an idiot, Kripa." So I am.
"Can someone PLEASE explain?" Aaliya pleaded.
"I'll tell you about this psycho. She thinks I'm married to her. Technically I am. But why would I marry HER? Look at her and look at me. Would you really think I would marry this, this…immoral slut of a robber? Puh-lease."
Tears sprung in my eyes, I blinked them back. I swallowed back. Aaliya was convinced but Angad continued. " If I really was married to her, why would she be prancing around with your boyfriend, Prithvi. They truly deserve each other! They're both clingy psychos that deserve no better!"
"Bhai." She said looking at me. She knew I was fighting tears. She wanted him to stop.
"She's a complete slut. She barely wears anything. She uses her body to get what she wants…it's disgusting. She STEALS for a living. C'mon now." He said. Yeah Angad, just pretend I'm not here.
"Bhai! I steal for a living too!" Aaliya defended me.
"You have a choice. She steals because she is incapable of doing anything decent. She'd probably be a LITERAL whore if she wasn't."
"ANGAD!!! That's enough. I'd rather you tell her about us than insult me like this!" I yelled, about to cry.
"Us? There is no US! We're NOT married. Not seriously anyways! You can't tell me you seriously believe we were…" He smirked. He was testing me. I invented this game. He is trying to play the master.
"You're right. There is no US. I should've known you were gay on our first night together…."
"I'm not gay!" He yelled.
"Uh huh. Sure. I knew I should've married Prithvi. He doesn't mind what I wear. He would never call me a whore. And he's better than you…in more aspects than one."
"WHAT?!?" Aaliya and Angad echoed each other, surprised.
"So YOU can divorce me so I can have my child in peace." Oops.
"Child?" Angad stared me down. He was checking for weight gain. It was something that had slipped out of my mouth by accident; I wasn't seriously pregnant of course.
"Well, the child doesn't exist as of yet. But me and Prithvi will arrange for it eventually." I giggled eventually. Anger played across Angad's face lazily. He chased me around the house. About an hour later, Angad had tackled me onto the bed.
Confused as hell, Aaaliya had left for a walk. She figured, she'd ask whoever was left alive for an explanation when she came back.
Angad's body hovered mine on the bed. "Gay, huh?" He asked with fake anger. He kissed me and his lips melted into a trail across my neck, collarbone…right where he had left off. I smiled and pushed him away.
"Whore, slut, psycho…what was that now? You have no trouble sleeping with this whore though. In the bedroom it makes no difference that I'm a psycho?"
"You're MY psycho." He tried to patronize me.
"Is that supposedly flattering?" I asked, strict and angry.
"No. But this is supposed to mean something too." He peeled off my shirt.
"Sure it means a lot." I stood, putting it back on. "It means YOU'RE sleeping on the couch tonight."
"Kripa…" He groaned as I pushed his large frame out of the door. I threw the pillow at him in the hall.
Well, that went surprisingly well.
Edited by kIrAn...E>GA<3 - 16 years ago
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