AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Can’t you wait until morning?” she asked.
I shook my head firmly.
“No. I need to talk to him right now,” I declared, and grabbed my phone.
I tried calling him but his phone was switched off. I called for a car and went straight to his hotel. I tried his phone from his lobby, but it was still switched off. So I went to the reception desk.
“Is Prince Deependra in his room?” I asked.
The concierge shook his head.
“He went out some time ago, Your Highness, and still hasn’t returned,” he replied.
I sighed and walked out into the parking lot. His ugly yellow Lamborghini was still there. Where could Deep have gone without his car?
I walked over to it absently and froze in shock as the car rocked. What the hell?
I bent slowly and peeked in through the window, and then wished I hadn’t.
The bastard!The utter, rotten, rat-bastard. Even if I washed my eyes a million times, I’d never be able to wash away the vile sight of his head thrown back in ecstasy as some girl bobbed her head up and down his lap.Ugh,times a zillion!
* * *
“God hates me,” I groaned two days later, banging my head softly against the table in front of me.
I felt something wet and sticky on my forehead, and when I rubbed it off, my finger came away red.
For a minute, I wondered if I was bleeding from the head, but one sniff put that fear to rest. It was ketchup. Which proved my point. Godreallyhated me. Why else would I bang my head on the one corner of the table that had ketchup smeared all over it?
“Care to be more specific?” asked Nivy.
“Huh?”
She sighed and handed me a tissue. I scrubbed the ketchup off my forehead and turned my attention to the smear on the table.
“Stop! You’ll scrub the vinyl off,” scolded Nivy, as she snatched the dirty tissue out of my hand.
I stared at my empty hands wondering what to do with them. I thought of wrapping them around Deep’s thick neck and squeezing hard, but he was hiding in his dingy palace in Tejpur, leaving me with no target for my wrath. Again, proof that God hated me.
“You haven’t answered my question,” she insisted.
Ugh! Was this the time for twenty questions? But I knew Nivy. She was as stubborn as Zombie, who would never let go of a slipper once he sank his yellow teeth into it. Nivy was the same with questions.
“What question?” I snapped.
“Which god are we speaking about?”
I blinked at her in surprise, and she shrugged.
“There are thirty-three thousand gods in the Hindu pantheon alone. I’m not even thinking of the others because I always get the Greek and Roman ones mixed up. So which god did you piss off exactly?”
I drew in a deep breath and tried to think of ten reasons to not stab my best friend in the eye with the fork I was clenching so hard. I could think of only one - she was the best thing that had happened to my stupid brother, Veer. I couldn’t jeopardise his happiness just because his fiancée refused to take my distress seriously. I mean,I could, but then I’d have to deal with his whining.
So, I set the fork down on the plate very carefully and looked Nivy in the eye.
“Don’t make me hurt you,” I whispered sternly.
Any sane woman would have sensed danger and backed away immediately. Not Nivy, though.
