The day had started on a good note. Meenakshi walked around the mansion, observing every crook and corner of it.
There were a ton of servants running wild,but no one paid any attention to her. Or maybe they pretended so.
She came across a glass staircase and looked down ,witnessing the tall man named Iqbaal engaged in a conversation in his phone. His tone was very proffessional and it seemed like they were going out somewhere.
He hung up the phone and looked away at the person who approached him slowly. The whole air shifted into a dense one , as he staggered towards the former. his face appeared stoic as ever and nobody could say that whether he's angry or just stern enough.
Iqbaal bowed to him in respect and even though he maintained the same height as dhruv, he appeared smaller.
" I've made the arrangements. Bruce said he'll deliver the packets."
" Hmmmm. Call others."
His reply sounded like a firm command and he didn't waste his time in detailing anything else.
" Ok Dhruv."
Dhruv placed his hands inside his suit pocket, effortlessly carrying the aura of an infamous mafia and signalled his other two men who stood at the corner of a large white double door.
Getting more curious, Meenakshi leaned in to see what they were upto. She noticed one of the shorter men with Malaysian dweller appearance, wearing similar attire as Iqbaal move backward and type something on the electronic keypad attached beside the double door.
The doors opened swiftly, revealing a huge room inside. The interior was all white, compared to the grey and black walls of the mansion. There were shelves stuffed with tons of packets and other machines. A huge leather brown sofa occupied the middle of the room, with a glass table in front.
But the most exquisite part of the room was the exhibition of every type of weapon on the walls and shelves. Various, exclusive guns starting from smith & wesson 19, remington model 870, glock 39, desert eagle mark xix pistol, ak-47 and every model of machine guns adorned the white surface. There was no model left,that the collection failed to hold.
Dhruv looked at them with pride reflecting through his adamant smirk and nodded at his men.
The same man, Mark placed a shiny gray briefcase on the table and the other man pulled one of the drawers to derive the bundles of cash, loading it in the suitcase.
Meenakshi, who was unconsciously halfway down the staircase gawked at the bundles of cash loaded into the suitcase. Of course, he was rich no doubt. but she had never in her life, witnessed so much cash. It's enough to make any person drool with greed.
Mark closed the suitcase, under Dhruv's surveillance and all of the men walked out of the room. Mark retyped something in the keypad and the double doors instantly closed with a thud.
The sound startled meenakshi out of her senses and realisation dawned upon her. She found herself standing at the middle of the staircase, in front of the predator's sight range. She thought to hide back before any suspicion of her presence arises, but she was too late.
"Meenakshi? What are you doing here?" Iqbaal was the one to inquire.
Meenakshi internally cursed herself for being so curious and now getting caught out of her acts. That also in front of the devil who was looking at her, but with a deadly glare.
"I'm so dead!" she mumbled.
" Umm... I- I was just looking around, and accidentally came here."
Meenakshi bit her tongue, knowing that her half lie was extremely lame to be a good answer. At these moments, she wished to take courses on 'how to lie like a pro'.
"Oh."
A dreading silence followed, with Dhruv's troublesome gaze burning on Meenakshi's face. If looks could kill, she would be lying in her grave now.
But the silence didn't pertain for long as Dhruv decided to not linger on the topic of his least interest. He addressed Iqbaal and his gang sharply to move ahead and not waste time. Time is money, as the wise say.
Meenakshi heaved a sigh of relief as the devil's army moved out of the place.
While she thought on leaving the place, her body felt a sharp gaze focused ar her through the corner of the darkness ahead. She looked at the place and found a dark silhouette walking towards her.
As it approached her closer, the light in the room revealed its face.
Meenakshi gasped at the gorgeous lady who stood in her front of her in a tight fitted, revealing glossy silver one-piece.
" Meenakshi, right??" she asked.
"Yeah."Meenakshi replied with an enthusiastic smile.
" So! you're that bitch from India,huh?"Her hazel eyes scrutinized meenakshi's appearance in a dissaproving tone.
After a short silence, she spoke again.
"I don't understand."
"Huh?" Meenakshi was confused.
"What's so special in you?"
Meenakshi blinked her eyes a few times, taking in the harsh insult thrown at her.
Veronica smirked sardonically.
"There's nothing in you. All you look like is a dreadful maid with no dignity. Your appearance is not even half of what a man desires."
Meenakshi silently stared at the woman. She wanted to oppose, but her own conscience payed regards to her words.
" I know why you are here. You're one of those gold digger sluts. Trying to woo Dhruv with your tricks. But let me warn you, you're playing with the wrong person, bitch!
Dhruv doesn't give a fuck on who you are and he already has a girlfriend!" Veronica hissed.
Meenakshi stared back at Veronica with complete shock. She didn't expect this coming.
"Yes, you heard right! He has a girlfriend and that's me."Veronica preyed closer, entrapping Meenakshi with her fuming glance.
" And usually, I don't like people snatching away my things. Dhruv is mine! The moment I find you close to him, you'll be counting your last days on earth."
Veronica's threat ringed through meenakshi's ears. Bitter tears gathered on the brink of her eyes, but before they commenced , she ran away from the place.
She entered her room in haste and immediately shut the door, her back leaning against it. Tears prickled down her face like raindrops, as her body collapsed on the floor
A single month hasn't passed well and she's received two threats by now. how much more does she need to face?
"Nobody will ever love you! Because you're not worthy of it!"
Old memories haunted her back. What he had said and did could never wash away from her memory.
Wounds and scars heal with time, but not the memories and words that remain embedded in mind.
But survivors are born out of mental scars, more than physical ones. She had survived a tons before,so out of habit or not, they became a part of her.
More than she liked...