Chapter 8: The Third Drawer

Dev Malhotra did not sleep.

At midnight he had Mira's answer on his phone, and he read it so many times that the words came apart.

Two thousand, yes, openly, in front of a witness. The rest is false.

Go to the studio yourself. Don't ask me to prove it. Ask him.

She had not asked him to forgive her. She had not asked for anything.

At six he took his own car keys from the hook, and not the driver's.

The sweet seller below the studio was only lighting his stove. The stairs smelled of cold oil.

Dev climbed them and rang the bell.

The man who opened the glass door wore a grey shirt.

He saw Dev, and his face emptied.

"Sir. We're not open."

"I know. I won't be long."

"Sir, I already gave the family my statement."

"I read it." Dev stepped inside and shut the door behind him. "I'm not here to argue with it."

The man backed up until he met his desk.

Dev looked at him and said nothing.

He had run a company of four hundred people for twelve years, and frightened men talked faster into silence.

"Who wrote it?" Dev asked finally.

"I did. Sir. I signed it."

"Who wrote the words?"

The man looked at the floor.

"Rhea came yesterday afternoon," he said, very low. "With a typed paper. And an envelope."

"How much?"

"Fifty thousand. Cash." He swallowed.

"Sir, I have a daughter in the ninth standard. I don't have a second studio."

"The recording my wife played me. Is it true?" Dev asked.

The man's mouth worked. He nodded once, a short jerk of the head.

Keep reading free with an account. Start She Returned to Expose His Sister, He Won Her Heart Again from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.