Codename lotus, p.24
Codename Lotus, page 24
Allison answered. “Lea? Is everything—slow down, I can’t—”
I snatched the phone. “Lea. What happened?”
“They’ve taken her,” she sobbed. “Three men came—she’s gone. Oh, Miss Naomi, I’m so sorry.”
My body went numb. My next breath felt like ice water in my veins.
Everything stopped.
The whole of Geneva blurred—flight, drive, and night to early morning—until my front door slammed and the sound snapped me back into focus.
Lea flinched, and the bodyguard reached for his holster.
I zeroed in on him. “You. Explain how Saanya vanished on your watch.”
His gaze flitted for a second. “—Miss Saanya insisted I take a break, ma’am. It was only thirty minutes.”
“Only thirty minutes?” I stepped in. He retreated. “You abandoned your post for half an hour and in that window the woman I’m paying you to protect walked out the door. Did it ever occur to you that the risk wasn’t theoretical?”
“She said it was fine, ma’am. She seemed calm. I didn’t want to—”
“You’re fired.”
“Ma’am—”
“Get out of my face. Now!”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The door hadn’t even clicked shut before I rounded on Lea. She shrank.
“I-I’m sorry, Miss Naomi, I’m so sorry,” she stammered as she retreated a step for every advance I made.
“What happened?”
“A man came…with three bodyguards. He asked to speak to Miss Saanya.” She twisted her fingers. “She was there—I couldn’t get them out in time. She accepted, sh-she went into your office with the man and talked with the door closed. I tried to read their lips, I—”
“And?”
“I couldn’t. They were in there for about fifteen minutes. When they came out, Miss Saanya…she packed her things. She left with them. I couldn’t find Marcus, I—”
“Left?” The word tasted wrong. “Did they force her?”
Lea shook her head. “No. She seemed…calm. She even told me not to call you.”
My eyes went wide.
“But I did! I-I-I tried to call you many times, Miss Naomi, but I couldn’t reach you. Then I finally remembered Miss Allison’s number.”
I paced the room. Panic alarms were going off inside me.
Calm down, Naomi.
“All right, describe these men to me.”
“One of them was white, probably European. Tall and…imposing, he looked dangerous. The other…” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “I don’t know.”
My frustration boiled over. “How can you not know? Lea, think! This is important.”
“H-he had a powerful presence—portly, commanding. Maybe South Asian or Middle Eastern. He carried himself like he was used to being in charge. He wore a suit. A very expensive-looking watch.”
My cell phone, finally back online, rang. I felt relief at the name. “Sid, what do you know?”
“She’s not with our parents. She’s not—” His voice cracked. I’d known him through every season of his life and had never heard that note. “Naomi, I can’t find her.”
“Lea says Saanya left willingly. Who would she go with, Sid?” I paced. “A family friend? Someone she trusts?”
“No. No one. It had to have been those bloody bastards.” Suddenly there was a shift, a muffled sound that might have been a hand covering the phone. “Naomi, I’ve got another call coming in. It might be them. I’ll ring you back.”
The room hollowed. Feeling numb, I sank onto the sofa, staring at nothing.
“Leave.”
My voice was flat. Almost…empty.
“But Miss Naomi—”
“Come on, Lea,” Allison said. “Let’s give her some space.”
I ran my hands through my hair. A sigh almost choked me as my cell phone rang again. I scrambled to answer it. “Arjun, talk.”
“All right. I figured out what happened. Your cell phone automatically shut off,” he said. “Days earlier, there were five failed attempts to log into your laptop. That, combined with your phone signal being picked up by a cell tower in Florence, triggered the safety protocol. It powered down your phone and deleted all sensitive information.”
“What?”
“Yes, ma’am. But don’t worry, everything is backed up in the failsafe.”
“No. The other. You said there were five failed attempts to log into my laptop. What do you mean by ‘days earlier’?”
“Yes. The password was entered incorrectly five times out of six. The sixth and last attempt, just before it would have locked out, was successful, but it was still considered unusual activity.”
“When exactly was this?”
“2:59 AM on Wednesday.”
What? “Arjun, keep tracking the second phone. It’s our only lifeline to her.”
“I am, but according to the last signal, the second phone is right where you are, Naomi.”
I glanced around the familiar confines of my house. The place that once felt safe because she was in it now felt foreign. It was all too much.
My throat felt so tight I could barely swallow. “I…thank you, Arjun.”
“Of course.”
I knew the taste of loss. It had a remnant that never left—metallic, stale, like something you couldn’t rinse out. The sharpest pain fades. You learn to function. You even learn to flourish. But the missing stays, quiet, intact, waiting inside you like a room that still exists, only every time you reach for the handle, you remember what’s on the other side.
And letting people in, opening yourself up again…well, there’s no scarier prospect.
I found myself standing on the threshold of Saanya’s bedroom. Usually vibrant with her essence. Now it felt hauntingly still.
She was gone. All our efforts had failed.
My eyes were drawn to the dupatta draped over the armchair—a splash of red in the otherwise muted beige.
It was unmistakably Saanya’s, left behind in a moment of forgetfulness.
Thoughtful Saanya who aligned spices and remembered meaningful occasions.
And now she was at the mercy of those criminals.
Saanya who had snuck through an unseen crack in my shell and found her way inside me.
I felt…unsteady when I reached for the dupatta, the fabric slipping through my fingers like sand.
“Why am I…?” I looked down at my trembling hands. “What’s—happening to me?”
I tried to draw a breath, but it snagged in my throat, a thin, whistling sound that only grew louder with the roar of panic in my ears.
A tear spilled in the faint early light, the curtains breathing in and out.
Beyond the open window, the mountains were already taking their color back from the night.
Sunrise.
My breathing turned erratic.
It was as if…I was outside of myself, but this feeling I…
I crawled into her sheets like a pathetic, helpless coward, clutching the dupatta close to my chest.
It still smelled like her.
I, who could never afford to cry in front of anyone, allowed myself to shatter completely for the second time in my life.
When I finally reached under the pillow, my fingers closed around her phone.
A sob ripped through me, sharp and humiliating. Then I went still.
I pushed myself up on one arm, the phone clenched in the other.
Lea’s “she left willingly” echoed.
No. Saanya always keeps her phone near.
Never on her, but around her. Always. The nightstand would have been a more logical place.
The pillow was only theatre.
Had she left this for me to find?
And if she had indeed left, how had they found her? Why now after all this time? How—
Arjun’s call moments ago: “There were five failed attempts to log into your laptop.”
2:59 AM on Wednesday.
I closed my eyes.
That was the night of Ethan’s arrival in Geneva.
He’d returned from his hotel after that first argument…contrite, and respectful—had even slept in one of the guest rooms, offering me space. Not only that but his taunting comment during our last argument about me being ‘so sentimental regarding birthdays and special dates. Sentimental and predictable.’
My password is my father’s birthday.
It had to be him. My laptop held every scrap we’d pulled on those criminals.
Rage returned, clean and hot—a blazing inferno inside me. I sat up, wiped my tears, and reached for my cell phone.
The line rang twice before Ethan picked up, his voice laced with a cautious warmth. “Naomi, baby. You called.”
“You…fucking bastard.”
“What?”
“Don’t play stupid, it really doesn’t suit you,” I snapped. “Bypassing my computer password and going through my personal things, Ethan? Really? What did you think you’d achieve?”
“Would you blame me? I thought you were calling to—”
“You put Saanya in danger because your ego couldn’t tolerate a boundary. Always you and your petty insecurities!”
“In danger? I called her family.”
“You what?” My vision went white at the edges. “Saanya isn’t with her family. What information did you get—and who the hell did you call?” I wanted to choke the answer out of him.
“The only last name in your emails that matched hers. Singh. I called Mohan Singh.”
My emails. I’d had Arjun investigate every detail about Manish including his family. My stomach dropped. Ethan had delivered Saanya directly into the same oppressive clutches, into the hands of Manish’s father.
“You ignorant piece of—”
“Piece of what? You’re a conniving bitch!”
Bile scorched my throat. “If something happens to them, I swear on everything this conniving bitch will sink her teeth into your pathetic sack and drag you straight to hell, Ethan Vanderbilt. Consider this a threat.”
He choked. “But you—”
“No. You do not get to talk. If it wasn’t clear then, let me make it crystal now: consider our relationship completely severed. From now on, you talk to my lawyers. Do not contact me, don’t even smell my ten-foot radius. Ever. Again. Do you understand?”
“Lawyers?”
“You can’t be this dim. My company isn’t just mine—I respond to a board of investors. People with power, influence, and an almost pathological aversion to risk. Every keystroke, every access point to Vertex Group’s property is tracked and logged by security systems so advanced they make Fort Knox look like a public park.”
“What?”
“You accessing my laptop which contains crucial sensitive information? That’s a breach of their trust, their confidentiality, and their bottom line. And let’s be frank, mine.”
“So what? I’m your freaking fiancé. We live together. That’s your personal laptop too—”
“You were my fiancé. And that gives you no right to invade my privacy. Should I decide to sue you—and trust me, I am considering it—you’ll spend the next decade buried in legal fees and court summons, all while watching your father’s precious Vanderbilt name dragged through the mud.”
“You wouldn’t—”
“We’ll see.”
“But—”
“Goodbye, Ethan.”
“No—Naomi, wait!”
23
BACK TO REALITY
SAANYA
Mumbai woke like a prayer and a riot all at once. Jasmine smoke curled from mandirs, autos honked, chai glasses clattered, and street food sizzled in open pans. Privilege and hunger shared the same pavement. They called this beautiful city a concrete jungle, but at sunrise it was soft as a mother’s palm.
Just after six, Anjali—one of the Singhs’ domestic helpers and my lone ray of kindness—offered breakfast on the balcony. I refused, the way I’d refused everything. I couldn’t keep food down. I felt…unmade.
Still, the garland-scented air slowed my breathing. From up here, the old colonial façades caught the first light. They used to loom, but now they only watched the tide of us—kettles hissing, people threading traffic, life moving forward without asking permission.
I wished to be anyone out there. Anyone but me.
By late December, the house’s rhythms were back in my bones. I’d lived here once. I’d survived it. And I’d sworn I’d never return.
The Singhs’ home was beautiful. It was also a cage with gold bars. Everywhere I turned was a reminder of Manish and the walls that watched him grow from a child into the monster I married, a reminder of how trapped I felt—and of how much I missed her.
Naomi.
God, I had left things so terribly unfinished. After everything she’d done for me, after everything that happened between us. And these feelings counted as what? What did Naomi feel? There’d been no chance to talk about that night when she had stormed into my bedroom and almost kissed me.
Had it been mere curiosity or just lust?
Even though I wanted Naomi—desired her—what I felt for her went beyond that. I had to protect her. And that was the reason why I was here. Why I had complied.
That morning in Naomi’s office, I’d closed the door and sat across from Mohan. I’d taken Naomi’s chair—her throne that no one else ever touched. Somehow, while she was gone, it felt permitted. As if our now intimate friendship granted me that borrowed right.
Mohan adjusted his suit jacket, the golden signet ring on his little finger flashing in the light. “Well, Saanya, I believe we have a few things to discuss.”
My hand slid over my belly. His presence, once merely unsettling, felt ominous that day. When he’d walked in and registered my pregnancy, his face hadn’t moved at all. Nothing but calculation.
My relationship with my in-laws had never felt welcoming. The superficial niceties of our engagement faded as quickly as Manish’s affection, leaving me in a perpetual state of alienation. I could deal with a mismatch in congeniality—not everyone was meant to get along—but it was their frosty, uptight demeanor that I hated. Polite smiles at lavish dinners, yet cold shoulders in the privacy of their drawing room.
“I had absolutely no obligation to tell you anything,” I said.
He laughed from his belly. I despised him more.
“Besides, wouldn’t you like to know how your son left a trail of criminals chasing after me? But how would you know? Manish could do no wrong in your eyes.”
“I know well the type of deals Manish was involved in.”
My spine went rigid. “You knew? You—”
“Of course I knew. Manish is my son. Or did you think they were only threatening you?”
I opened my mouth—then clamped it shut.
“But imagine my shock when a stranger calls to say my son’s wife—”
“Widow,” I said.
“—is hiding in the West, under his wife’s protection.” Mohan gave a measured pause. “Naomi, isn’t it? Naomi Smith-Chopra. Quite the powerful figure you have as a shield. Does she intend to break her marriage for you? A concerned man calls me and gives me the news.” He sighed, shaking his head admonishingly. “A marriage between a man and a woman is sacred, and you don’t want to be in the middle of that.”
I swallowed hard, my nostrils flaring as I stuffed down the tumult of anger and powerlessness I felt. My fists were shaking under the desk, tight on my thighs. “They aren’t married. She is not his wife.”
She deserved so much more than that asshole. But that didn’t mean that I didn’t feel guilty for being the catalyst of their break-up.
“That’s their business,” he said mildly. “But you’ll be displeased to know that these men who are looking for you have also reached out to us. Sending death threats.”
Somehow he made it sound like a social inconvenience. Like this was my fault.
I’d thought I alone had a target on my back. Of course Manish had infected his parents’ lives too. It hadn’t been enough that he had broken my spirit and, so many times, broken my face—chipping away at my self-esteem. Who would they go after next? How far does rot travel? I tightened my fists so hard that my nails dug into the meat of my palms.
“Tell me, Beta,” he murmured, using the endearment to press where it hurt, “do you want them going after her too?”
And there it was, the threat without teeth marks. Hot tears spilled before I could stop them. “No,” I said.
He steepled his fingers. “So. What to do?”
He wasn’t asking. He was toying with me, much like his son had for so long. And that term of endearment mocked me. Beta. What kind of man would do this to someone he had just called daughter?
“You will not speak a word of this to my wife. She has enough to deal with after our son’s passing.”
You mean murder? Why hide it? His son was a criminal and he’d had a fitting end to his miserable life.
He continued, “We will go back to Mumbai, and you will live with us. You will raise my grandson as it should be.”
“I will not go live with you. I already told you that.” My voice sounded frayed.
“Yes, you will. Because you don’t want to stain your parents or your brother with this, do you? This is a Singh family matter. We will handle it as a family.” He fixed the gold cufflinks on his crisp shirt and rose.
I followed him with my eyes.
“I will not go live with you.” My throat tightened, and I hated how shaky I felt.
“I know these kinds of men and how they operate.”
“Is that a threat?”
“No, Beta, it’s a warning. Because I know better and I am trying to protect you.”
The memory settled like ash. Morning light warmed my face. An auto honked, and the salty Mumbai air pressed in.
But my mind was still in Geneva.
The string of read texts from Naomi illuminated the screen as I scrolled.
Naomi Nov 7, 9:15 AM
Saanya, answer my calls.
Naomi Nov 10, 11:47 AM
Just want to know you’re okay.
