Bound by Hatred (The Singham Bloodlines Book 2) Page 3

  Even though he hadn’t seen her in person over the years, he had felt her constant presence in his life as she tried to make it a living hell.

  He recalled how his favorite horses were stolen, his bikes and cars were burned down or blown apart, and she had also ordered several other petty things to be done that drove him insane. In turn, he had also ordered her SUVs to be blown up, and destroyed her personal property until Abhay had intervened and asked him to stop.

  “Heard you were in the neighborhood, Singham. Wanted to say… hello.” Although her voice was soft and even, he heard the underlying taunt like a loud jeering.

  When he didn’t say anything, her smile grew infinitesimally small. “I just wanted to be polite, you know, considering how we might be family pretty soon,” she said, reminding him of the recent alliance.

  In order to end the decades-long feud between their families and people, Neelambari Prajapati had sent a wedding proposal between her niece, Anika, and Abhay.

  It only took a day for Abhay to accept the proposal while Dev had mixed feelings. On one hand, he was still not ready to forgive or forget the past, but on the other hand, he knew the people of their respective provinces badly needed peace to be restored.

  Dev had some of his men investigate Anika Prajapati thoroughly in order to check the validity of the proposal. So far, he hadn’t found anything suspicious. In fact, whatever he had found about Anika Prajapati made him think she might be the right fit for his brother.

  Anika Prajapati was a soft-spoken, well-educated woman whose career led her to helping and healing people—unlike the savage in front of him who either injured or destroyed.

  A woman’s muffled sobs broke through his thoughts.

  “Please. Please don’t hurt me. Please. Please…”

  Dev knew there was no one near Kritika. Sabitha Prajapati and her two men were the only ones who had broken into the cottage. And right then, they were busy surrounding him to be bothered with anything else. Nevertheless, he knew Kritika’s fear was real.

  “Let her go,” he said quietly, keeping his eyes locked on Sabitha Prajapati. “Her car is outside and she can leave on her own. Your enmity is with me.”

  Sabitha smiled, but her smile was brittle and didn’t reach her eyes. “How very noble of you to say that, Singham. One would think you were used to saving damsels in distress. But we both know the truth, don’t we?” she asked softly, reminding him of how he had ruined her elopement with her boyfriend.

  Before he could say something, she turned towards the bed. “Get out.”

  As soon as the soft order was issued, Kritika scrambled out from the bed. She was still in her lingerie, but she didn’t bother throwing on any other clothes. She simply grabbed her purse and ran towards the door to get out.

  Soon, he could hear the sound of the engine as the car started and then the loud squeal of tires as she hit the accelerator before driving away from the cottage.

  Sabitha Prajapati continued to twirl the jeweled knife in her hands, watching him. “Seems like the rumors I heard about you are all false, Singham. For a supposed playboy, your technique in bed must have sucked. In fact it must have sucked so badly, the poor woman couldn’t wait to get out when I interrupted your lackluster performance.”

  When he didn’t respond to her taunt, she moved closer to him while running her eyes impassively over his naked body. She stopped a foot away, and she slowly ran the blunt edge of her knife from his throat in a downward path, until she stopped an inch above his now fully-aroused cock.

  A small smirk formed on her face. “I wonder what would happen if I cut this offending thing off,” she remarked. “I’m sure I’ll be doing the female population a favor. And also… the Singham bloodlines will have to continue only through your brother. Not a bad idea, huh?" she taunted softly.

  When he still didn’t reply, she moved the knife back up and nicked his throat.

  Dev felt the sting but refused to flinch.

  He watched her as she ran her finger on his throat and brought it closer to her face. “What do you know,” she taunted softly. “The great purebred Singham blood looks just like a commoner’s blood.”

  He felt the simmering rage within him rise rapidly. “You have crossed a line with this,” he told her in a menacing tone. “I have left you alone all these months because of the possible union between our families.”

  Her smile turned lethal and she placed the knife back at his throat. “There is no line to cross, Singham. It’s always been a war. Even if the wedding takes place, it will continue to be a war between the both of us. Just because you are losing, don’t whine and hide behind our families.”

  His rage erupted. “If you want a war, I’ll give you a fucking war,” he hissed, struggling while he was held back by her men. The knife nicked his skin several times due to his movements, but he ignored the pain.

  “I’ll be looking forward to seeing you try, Singham. Oh, by the way, the new red Ferrari you bought… it looks even better in ash.”

  “You—”

  Before he could complete, sounds of approaching vehicles could be heard from outside.

  “Ma’am, we have to go,” one of the Prajapati men told her in an urgent tone. “We are on the Singham lands, and there are just the three of us.”

  Sabitha removed the knife from his throat and moved away with a smile. “Remember this day, Singham. You were at my complete mercy. I could have easily slit your throat or just plain castrated you, but I didn't.”

  ***

  PRESENT…

  Dev’s blood continued to boil as he recalled the rage and helplessness when she had held him at knifepoint and left him naked in every way that night. Since then, they had clashed several times, each time trying to get the upper hand over one another.

  She was like a bloody hurricane. Only twice as destructive when it came to him.

  Some of the Singham men had been outraged on his behalf and wanted to plan an attack targeting only her. But he had stopped them.

  She might be the most cunning, violent, and dangerous bitch like everyone in the provinces believed. But she was his prey. Only he would get back at her for the things she did to him.

  He took a deep breath to calm down and not think about how he wanted to get back at her.

  Because Sabitha Prajapati was not only his enemy but also his bloody ally.

  It was going to be a herculean task to work along with her over the next few months.

  CHAPTER 5

  Sabitha keenly listened as Dhruv read the document aloud to her.

  “That shouldn’t be a problem,” she said when he finished. “But make sure you add the notes about the specific days when the Prajapatis would be busy with the local fair and festivities. The Singhams can compensate with more people during that time, just like we would when they are busy with theirs.”

  Dhruv nodded and marked the dates on the calendar provided.

  Even though Dev Singham had told that her signature wasn’t necessary, she signed on the document. “Take a copy of this and give one to Dev Singham. After that inform the project managers we had appointed to meet us in an hour.”

  Dhruv nodded. He made a copy using the copy machine and left with the original papers.

  Sabitha sighed and sat back as the door shut softly behind him.

  Her eyes fell on the copy of the document lying on her office desk.

  As usual, the words barely made any sense to her at the first look. Slowly and painfully, she managed to comprehend the first two words before giving up.

  Dev Singham had called her an illiterate.

  Even though she had reacted badly to it, it had been one of the better abuses hurled at her because of her lack of reading and writing skills. Growing up, she was called retarded, slow, or just plain stupid. It didn’t matter that she displayed her intelligence in various other forms. The fact that she couldn’t read or write made everyone think she was intellectually challenged.

  As a child, she was beaten a
nd abused by various tutors her aunt had employed to educate her. Each tutor who came in succession after the previous one had been fired turned out to be more brutal. They had starved her and beaten her, saying they would drive out her insolence, that she wasn’t trying hard enough, and that she was simply lazy.

  It didn’t make much difference to them or her aunt when a doctor finally diagnosed her and gave a proper medical term for her disability.

  Dyslexia.

  A disorder that involved difficulty to learn to read or interpret words, letters and other symbols, but does not affect general intelligence.

  In her case, it was a genetic disorder.

  “It’s okay, sweetie. We don’t need to know how to read or write. We have people for it.”

  Her father, Harshvardhan Prajapati, had suffered from dyslexia, too. But during his time, rather than diagnose it properly, they chalked his reluctance of wanting to study or write to his hyperactivity and natural male aggression.

  So, unlike her uncle, Yashwanth Prajapati—who had gone for higher studies in London and settled abroad in San Francisco after marrying a woman of his choice—her father had dropped from school at a very young age and remained in the Prajapati province all his life—until he was ultimately killed and branded a murderer.

  Despite her attempts, Sabitha knew how closely she was following in her father’s footsteps.

  Is that how it would end for me too? Be branded as a savage murderer and then be shot dead one day on a street like a dog?

  She hadn’t always chosen this life. She had been forced to do so.

  All because of Dev Singham.

  ***

  SEVEN YEARS AGO…

  After getting caught at the Singham cottage, Sabitha was dragged back to the Prajapati Mansion.

  Two men held Sabitha in the courtyard overlooking the balcony of her aunt’s suite.

  Sabitha sobbed with helplessness. She had thought she and Raghav had almost succeeded in their elopement. They were going to build a new life for themselves in a city that did not include violence or humiliation. She had thought she could finally escape from having to spend the rest of her life being called the murderer’s daughter who had started the feud.

  The large, heavy doors leading to the balcony were opened, and Neelambari strode out. “Bring her closer!” her angry voice commanded.

  Sabitha was dragged closer until she stood just below the balcony. Her hair was pulled to tug her head back until her eyes met with that of her aunt’s. Sabitha could only see the blurred form of her father’s sister.

  “You have proved once again you are a daughter of a whore,” Neelambari spat out. “But unfortunately, you also have the Prajapati blood running in your veins, and I promised my brother I’d take care of you.”

  Sabitha remained quiet as she heard the words her aunt often repeated over the last eighteen years of her life.

  Daughter of a whore.

  Promise to a brother.

  Sabitha knew her aunt barely tolerated her presence in the Prajapati Mansion. She didn’t understand why her aunt couldn’t just let Sabitha go? Why continue to make her suffer in this grim life?

  “Give up that boy, and I will spare you,” Neelambari ordered. “I will let you live the rest of your life in this mansion until your death.”

  “No. I won’t,” Sabitha replied immediately without even having to think about it.

  Neelambari’s eyes widened with rage at her niece’s insolence. She took a step closer and leaned on the balcony rails, her eyes locked on Sabitha. “You have always been stubborn even as a child. But I know just the way to bring you in line.” She looked at the men holding Sabitha. “Tie her up! And take that boy away and tie him in the other courtyard.”

  Sabitha was dragged away and tied to a tree in the courtyard with her front facing the tree trunk.

  “Whip her! And don’t stop until I say so.”

  As soon as her aunt passed the order, Sabitha felt the searing sting of the whip as it met with her back. Her nails dug into the bark, but she controlled herself and didn’t cry out.

  The lashes continued to fall, and she endured it silently. She closed her eyes and focused on her future.

  When this is over, Raghav and I will try running away again. This time I’ll make sure we’ll succeed.

  Sabitha recalled the plans she had made along with Raghav, who was the head cook’s son. They both were to run somewhere far away. They would find a small house to live in. And in front of the house, they would open a small stall to sell homemade snacks and tea.

  Even though she couldn’t read or write, she knew she was a good cook. She had spent most of her childhood hiding in the kitchens where she had learned to cook. Whatever dishes she had prepared, people had told her she had a magic touch.

  She was confident her plans would work and with the money they’d earn, she and Raghav would be able to afford to stay in a decent-sized house, preparing for their future.

  Sabitha didn’t know how long she was lost in her plans, but soon the pain became unbearable and darkness took over as she lost consciousness.

  ***

  The next time Sabitha opened her eyes, her lips felt dry. They were so parched that simply moving them made them split.

  The sun was shining hot from the sky above.

  Sabitha didn’t know how much time had passed since she had been tied to the tree until she gained consciousness. She wanted to ask for water, but she stopped herself from begging. She knew if water was allowed, she would have already been given some by then.

  Soon someone informed her aunt that she had gained consciousness.

  Sabitha was dragged in front of her aunt again, and she heard her aunt asking her the same question. “Promise me to give that boy up and remain here with me.”

  Sabitha’s tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth. She used all her energy to utter one word.

  “No.”

  The whipping continued for three days. She was starved, but she still refused to give up on her future.

  On the fourth day, when she gained consciousness, she was lying on her bed with her face down. Her back felt as though it was on fire.

  She felt a cooling balm being applied on her back by someone.

  “Tch tch. Look what you made them do to you,” a familiar woman’s voice scolded. The woman was her mother’s cousin who worked as a healing woman and midwife within the Prajapati Estate. Eighteen years ago, she had been the one to even deliver Sabitha.

  “You are just like your mother,” the woman said with exasperation. “Stubborn as a mule. Even though Shaila knew Harshvardhan loved someone else and wouldn’t ever marry her, she still wouldn’t give up on him or her love. She shunned our society and had a relationship with him and bore you outside the sanctity of marriage.”

  Sabitha didn’t respond. She was in too much pain to even bother thinking, let alone talk.

  A few minutes later, the door banged open. “Has she gained consciousness? Madam wants her brought in.” Sabitha heard a man’s voice ask.

  “She can’t come with you right now. She’s still too weak and injured badly.”

  “Madam ordered us to bring her if she is awake. We can’t ever refuse madam. Step aside.”

  Sabitha felt arms grab her and pull her out of the bed. Her legs felt weak, and she couldn’t support her weight. The men held her up and dragged her upstairs towards Neelambari’s room.

  They stopped and let her collapse on her knees, right outside the open door of her aunt’s suite. She knew they were waiting for her aunt to come near the door to speak to her.

  Even during her childhood, Sabitha was never allowed to go into her aunt’s room. Her aunt was a big stickler of the class system. The fact that Sabitha’s mother belonged to a supposedly lower class, made her less than the personal maids her aunt had employed. Only the higher-class maids were allowed inside the room to clean or bring food.

  A large chair was placed behind the doorway within the room. A few minutes lat
er, Neelambari appeared and sat on the chair with her arms resting on top. She watched Sabitha with a closed expression on her face.

  Sabitha felt exhausted as she struggled to keep her eyes open.

  “Will you give him up now?” Neelambari asked softly.

  Sabitha watched her aunt through half-closed eyes and whispered out a single word. “No.”

  Instead of going into a rage as Sabitha had expected, Neelambari slowly smiled.

  “I’m proud of you, my dear niece. Today, you have proved to me you are a true Prajapati woman. We never ever give up.”

  Sabitha didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. She wanted to ask what her aunt had done to Raghav, but her eyes kept shutting and exhaustion was taking over.

  “This iron will and grit you have, you are meant for greater things,” her aunt’s voice continued speaking. “You have the makings of being a great leader to the Prajapatis. Over the generations, our women always led. From now on, I will personally groom you.”

  Sabitha shook her head faintly. “I don’t want that life,” she whispered. “I want freedom.”

  Her aunt watched her quietly. “Why? Because you want to be with that boy and lead a pathetic, dreary life, living in a small shack somewhere?”

  “Yes,” Sabitha replied. “I prefer that life over this.”

  Neelambari was silent again. Then she sighed. “I truly wish I could grant that life to you, my dear. Only if I was convinced what you and that boy have is true love and worth giving up all of this.”

  “I want to spend my life with him,” said Sabitha.

  “I know. But he doesn’t want to spend his life with you anymore.”

  Sabitha shook her head. “He does want me. Please, let us go so that we can be together. I’ll give up my money, my assets, everything. Just let us go.”