Codename lotus, p.7
Codename Lotus, page 7
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Saanya. You’re only human. We all misstep.”
“But this wasn’t just a misstep. I walked right into her pain without realizing it. I should’ve known better. I should’ve… I hurt her.”
He sighed. I could almost see him rubbing the spot between his eyes. “Naomi’s not easy to read, but trust me when I say it wasn’t about you. She carries a lot, and sometimes it spills over.”
Wasn’t that a universal truth, all of us walking around spilling over onto one another?
“Just when I thought we’d hit a breakthrough.”
“I’m sure you did,” he said gently. “But sometimes life comes with memories we aren’t ready to face. Give her time, Saanya. She’ll come around.”
“I just…hate that I upset her.”
“That’s because you care. And knowing Naomi, she knows it too, even if she doesn’t say it. Meet each other in the middle. Listen to one another instead of simply reacting.”
“Yes, well.”
“And I know your stay there has extended a bit more than originally intended. It’s probably been too much time closed off together in a single space. I’m sorry, sis.”
I sighed. “She’s probably sick of seeing only me.”
“I doubt that, but I understand it must get tense. I’ll speak to her about the overextension.” There was a pause before he shifted topics. “Hey, Saanya. While I’ve got you—did Manish ever mention a list of codes? Numbers, letters—something that could be a password? Or did you ever see a list of random letters or numbers?”
“A password? For what?”
“Several of them, in fact. Cryptocurrency. It’s called a private key. I think he was hiding something. A lot of something. And the men following you think you might know where.”
“What?”
Manish had always been secretive, paranoid really, as part of his arrogant baseline. Now, it felt deliberate. He’d lived like a ghost, moving pieces no one could see, and apparently, I’d been the pawn.
“That’s absurd. I don’t know anything.”
“Are you sure? No conversations that felt out of place? No strange behavior?”
I let out a thin laugh. “Strange behavior? Sid, everything about Manish was strange. He was a financier dabbling in engineering, an arrogant knob who thought everyone was beneath him and still needed constant validation. I didn’t know half of what he was doing—wait. There was a safe deposit box.” I suddenly remembered. “He had no idea I knew, but—”
“What? Saanya, that’s huge. Where?”
“Blackstone Vaults. It’s on Chancery Lane. I found the key once—hidden in my dressing table, of all places. He thought he was so clever. He’d built a false-bottomed drawer.”
“Do you still have the key?” Sid’s voice sharpened. “Oh God, was that in your Kolkata home?”
“No. It’s in my London house. Assuming those men haven’t already found it.”
We ended the call. Sid had my full permission to scour both my homes, while I, probably avoiding, couldn’t find the will to care about anything regarding Manish. All I could think about was her.
I’d been so focused on breaking through Naomi’s walls—bringing light into her regimented life—that I hadn’t stopped to consider why those walls were there in the first place.
I remembered the day I met her mother after a school event. Sid had gone to greet her, and twelve-year-old me tagged along. She was nurturing and beautiful. I remembered her perfect smile and a green glimmer on her hand—a clear-cut emerald ring. It was a rare glimpse into Naomi’s life outside the school corridors, where she was known for her brooding demeanor, her exceptional intellect, and her prowess in sports. Naomi’s mother had been the antithesis of the distant girl we all knew, warm and proud, and with her lilting accent, she’d teased, “Meri chhoti saahi”—my little porcupine.
Naomi had always been an enigma—excelling at everything while keeping most at arm’s length, even before losing her parents. With a few close friends, she showed another side, helpful and kind, but always with a barrier. Such a contrast to the Naomi of today…aloof, occasionally sharp and pedantic. And yet not entirely. I had glimpsed the other side lately, which made staying angry at her harder. Still, who yells at innocent children over something so trivial?
Someone aching.
I tried to comprehend the magnitude of what she’d endured. Losing both parents, navigating the world alone so young—the kind of pain and loneliness that could fundamentally alter a person.
I pulled her watch from my pocket and ran my thumb over the smooth crystal. There was a garnet-colored reflection that moved with my hand against the light.
My ring.
Not the same color as her mother’s—but a large precious stone in the hand of a woman who probably looked like a walking reminder.
It wasn’t just what I was doing. It was everything about me that was detonating triggers for her everywhere.
“What kind of walls would a young girl have to build to survive a loss like that?”
I set Naomi’s watch on my nightstand and lowered my head onto the pillow, watching the gold hands tick as if I were staring at time itself.
Time… my old friend. And foe.
Because more than twenty years later, I still couldn’t stop staring at her.
6
PERIMETER
NAOMI
One night I sat in my office, with only the light of my computer screen staring back.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard when the thought came.
I need to double down on safety.
Cybersecurity hadn’t been my top concern. Not when there were bodyguards and substantial geographical distance between Saanya and those men.
But was that enough?
Sidharth’s strange behavior the other day had left me thinking. Who could we trust anymore?
I pulled up a secure chat and typed out a message to Arjun, my IT and security expert in Bangalore, careful not to mention Saanya.
NAOMI.SMITH-CHOPRA: Arjun, I need a full reassessment of our video call encryption. What’s the most secure protocol we can implement?
A few minutes passed before his reply.
ARJUN.GANGAVALLI: Current encryption is strong, virtually unbreakable.
Good.
The last thing I needed was any leak jeopardizing our safety or my plans. Sidharth had already handled some logistics: making calls from a special phone number that only he, Saanya, and I had.
As far as I knew, Saanya’s phone was also safe.
So why was Sid so apprehensive?
NAOMI.SMITH-CHOPRA: What recommendations can you give me regarding my cell phone?
I leaned back in my chair, fixed on the moving dots as Arjun typed.
ARJUN.GANGAVALLI: Your current phone uses state-of-the-art security, advanced encryption, and biometric access.
Same class as your laptop. It has a fail-safe and automatic data wipe for extreme scenarios, plus a private network. It’s virtually impenetrable.
Hmm.
Saanya might oppose me, but she’d have to deal.
NAOMI.SMITH-CHOPRA: I want an additional custom-built phone. Ensure it has all the capabilities of mine, and deliver it to Allison in New York.
ARJUN.GANGAVALLI: On it. I’ll have an identical model made ASAP.
I exhaled.
Once Allison received the phone, she would forward it to Switzerland, and I’d hand it to Saanya.
NAOMI.SMITH-CHOPRA: Thanks, Arjun. Keep me updated.
I ended the chat and sat back.
What the hell would I do if all this blew up in my face? I could always leverage my connections and relocate Saanya. Paris, perhaps.
One of my high-profile acquaintances could host her. For instance, jewelry designer Élise Laurent owed me a favor.
Pharmaceutical mogul Ana Lindström had a villa in the south of France. Both were famous enough that no criminal would want the global attention. Unlike me, they would have no link to Sidharth or the Hazras.
I bit my lip and considered the outrageous idea for barely a second.
Ridiculous.
I could easily hire a security team and send her to a villa myself.
I stifled a yawn and glanced at the time: 12:45 a.m.
“All right. Next thing on the agenda.”
The next day, Victoria Hale, Thera Corp’s CEO, spoke with a voice that crackled through my phone, teetering on desperation.
She was practically begging.
“You have to understand, Naomi,” Victoria implored. “This company is the legacy of my parents. I’ve watched it slip through my fingers, and you…you’re my last hope.”
Leaning back, I let the silence hang for a moment.
“And what do you propose, Victoria?”
“An investment?” Her pitch rose at the end as if probing. “Your influence and resources could turn things around.”
Absurd.
I thrived on the carcasses of failed companies, not on their resuscitation. “Invest? Your company is a sinking ship. Why would I?”
“Naomi, please. It’s all I have left of them.”
“Tell me, Victoria, how did you manage to keep the wolves at bay for so long? It’s not every day a CEO holds control in a storm like yours.”
Victoria hesitated, and my interest was piqued.
“My brother…he’s not known in the public circles—not like me,” she said.
“Quite the business wizard, then. Providing a lifeline when all seemed lost?”
Victoria’s voice dropped. “Well…he…” She sounded suddenly nervous, and her tone turned conspiratorial. “He secured a loan once, from a consortium so elusive, so selective, that even the most astute financial minds haven’t been able to get a meeting. It was a Hail Mary that bought us time. He was never interested in our parents’ legacy; if I could get him out of his room and away from his computer for a minute, it was a miracle. He did manage to buy us a little breathing room, but the decline came regardless. He isn’t a business wizard, but he is a cybersecurity one.”
“Is that so?”
“He’s a fixer, of sorts,” she said cautiously. “He has resources, contacts that you wouldn’t find through conventional means. It’s how we’ve navigated through some of our tighter spots. Why? Are you interested? I could…”
“Hm. That is a bold confession to make over the phone,” I said, “and no, I am not. As I told you before, I prefer my dealings to be transparent, Victoria. And let me be clear, if I step in, it will be a coup de grâce. I will dismantle and distribute your company’s assets for my own gain. Your gain will be the millions I am willing to pay. If you can stomach that, we have a deal.”
“Naomi, there must be something we can do.”
Persistent. At least she got an A for effort.
“You sound as if I am offering you twigs and peanuts for it. I am putting forth a very generous offer—”
Movement outside my office caught my eye. Saanya’s silhouette cut a striking figure in the afternoon light, her Burberry trench coat draped elegantly as she clasped a Valentino Garavani Carry Secrets minaudière in her hand, the end of her tanned sleeve just grazing the multicolored crystals.
Saanya was reaching for the door when one of my bodyguards approached. I noticed the soft fall of her hair, the way light played on the strands, casting a warmth that seemed to outline her in a halo.
Well, she looked good in that too. I hadn’t seen her in anything other than traditional clothes, and her impeccable taste extended to those too. A huge leap from that lanky teenage girl in grunge wear, indeed.
Huh.
My eyes lingered on the bag, though. The Après l’Hiver rhinestone motif. Damn, it was gorgeous.
Well, the daughter of Vikram Hazra and second heir to his empire couldn’t be seen in plain old jeans and a T-shirt, could she?
I blinked.
Holt, one of my bodyguards, blocked the doorway with a forearm like a barricade, his voice low. “You’re not cleared to leave, ma’am.”
Saanya’s protest was incoming as I stepped out. “Holt, it’s fine. Give us a moment.”
Saanya turned, startled, and narrowed her eyes.
“Of course, ma’am,” he said, and left.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I asked.
“I…have an appointment with an obstetrician at 4:00 p.m. Why did he say I’m not allowed to leave?”
“Because you can’t just be out and about. What if you’re recognized?”
Saanya almost laughed at the absurdity. Because this situation was absurd, but no less dangerous.
“Recognized? Naomi, I’m not some celebrity. And this isn’t London, where I’m apparently wanted for—” she trailed off.
The poor thing didn’t even know why they were after her.
“Whatever it is I’m wanted for,” she continued. “Bitcoin, or whatever that cryptocurrency’s called. Bottom line is, Naomi, I doubt anyone here cares.”
Cryptocurrency. So, Sid had already told her.
Wait a minute. Poor thing?
I shook my head and resumed the call. Victoria had been on hold. I had completely forgotten about the lamenting woman.
“…Excuse me for a moment, Victoria,” I said, covering my phone as I turned back to Saanya. “Can’t this wait?”
We were both whispering at this point.
“No, it was a bloody nightmare to get this appointment.”
“And how do you plan to get there?” I cocked my head.
“A taxi? An Uber?” Saanya suggested breezily.
“A taxi—?”
Ugh. She would go on a mule if she could. I felt my recent macchiato sour inside me. “Saanya, must you do this now?”
Her cheeks flushed, blooming pink against her tanned skin. “Yes, I told you, it’s important.”
I sighed, ending the call with Victoria after rescheduling.
Saanya watched in disbelief. “Why did you do that? Surely, you’re not planning on—”
I grabbed my Saint Laurent bag, checked my reflection in a compact mirror, and adjusted my hair. I was dressed casually yet impeccably in a pair of chic pointed-toe flats, trousers, and a cashmere sweater. These flats were a testament to my belief that one didn’t need heels to stand tall—or at least not always.
“Let’s go,” I said, leaving no room for argument. I knew she’d fight me.
“You truly are coming along?”
“I promised your brother that no harm would come to you, and no harm will. If this…appointment is essential, then I’m coming with you. And so are my bodyguards and chauffeur.”
“I’m a grown woman, Naomi.”
“A grown woman with a target on her back. I’m coming. End of story.”
“But—”
“No buts.”
Saanya’s lips parted.
7
A CULINARY SIN
SAANYA
Once we were out, Marcus and Holt—Naomi’s bodyguards—flanked me like I was the last heir to a fallen dynasty. Thankfully, they’d stayed outside for this part.
I sat on the examination table, my gaze alternating between the ultrasound screen and my apparent new keeper. Naomi stood like a sentry, the self-appointed dictator that she was. Did this woman distrust everyone? And even if that were the case, why care whether my new obstetrician earned her trust?
But I already knew the answer: Sid.
Dr. Keller seemed kind and knowledgeable. It had taken me days to choose an obstetrician from the list of English-, Hindi-, or Bengali-speaking doctors in Geneva. When I finally landed an appointment that wasn’t six weeks away, the last thing I expected was Naomi at my shoulder, especially after our jalebi fallout.
“Are we ready?” Dr. Keller smiled at both of us and slid the probe over my still-flat belly.
Naomi stood at the end of the table, arms crossed, flashing Dr. Keller one of her condescending smiles. Well, perhaps she should have stayed home then. No one asked her to—
The sound flooding the room was inevitable, reminiscent of a little horse galloping underwater.
“That’s a strong heartbeat,” Dr. Keller said.
As the abstract shapes came to life, showing the first glimpses of my baby, Naomi leaned in, scrutinizing the screen.
“And everything’s normal? Healthy?” she asked.
That made me do a double take. Since when did Naomi care about anything concerning me, let alone my child? She had told me so herself. She’d be happier if I left.
“Yes, everything looks as it should for a close-to-twelve-week pregnancy. The baby is developing nicely.”
Twelve weeks.
The heartbeat echoed inside me, and their voices blurred for a beat.
Naomi pressed on. “And what about precautions, dietary needs? Any restrictions we should be aware of?”
“Standard precautions,” Dr. Keller said. “No heavy lifting, no alcohol, and no high-risk activities. I’ll have my assistant give you a list to take home.”
Another thing I needed on that list was Naomi’s beloved bland, boring food! I was at the end of my rope with the grilled varieties of white fish going straight to the stove without first passing through any form of seasoning besides a light dash of salt and pepper. But how could I begin to say that without offending my host, or the very American Dr. Keller, who I was sure wouldn’t take kindly to that insult?
“Dietary needs are crucial at this stage. I’ll prescribe prenatal or antenatal vitamins to ensure you’re getting all the necessary nutrients.”
I smiled. “Um, can I still eat spicy foods? I can’t live without my green chilies.”
“Spicy foods are fine, as long as they don’t cause you discomfort. Every pregnancy is unique, so listen to your body.”
Relief rushed through me. Since I couldn’t go shopping myself—Naomi would probably chain me to the bed if I tried—perhaps adding a few things to Lea’s list would satisfy my need for that extra kick, while at the same time, not triggering Naomi into an emotional breakdown with the all-too-familiar aromas.
