The Prince's Indentured Bride

The game of Justice

“I have said you like two times already that I threw my yellow color heel on that bastard with a knife, not my freaking car key!” I shouted with any energy left in me.

Giving my temples a required massage, I tried to take a breather. “Yes, Miss Ashtrick. But it is the first time you are confirming in the presence of the lawyers and all the legal parties.” Mrs Shikta spoke in an unfazed voice; making me bite my cheek in anger, not because I couldn’t, forfeit my claustrophobia right now.

“Now can you update something which can be of good news. I want the killer.” I tried not to look around the little room with rusty paint, green leakage on the ceiling walls and damn, this suffocating smell.

“Murders are not pastry making. Sometimes it takes decades to solve.” Mrs Shikta asserted as if it was just another case the CBI was dealing with. It maybe for her but I wanted blood for blood. With or without her help.

Making soothing circles with my thumb pad on my chest I tried calming myself, “Then go ahead; get yourself a pastry man have four to five children. Swoosh, a decade passes and we will have our murderer magically!”

I slammed my fist a bit too hardly on the metal table separating me and my lawyer, from her and Abhishek sitting on the opposite side. “Vhrea calm down.” Abhishek pleaded as Mrs Shikta’s face turned into a red ball with nerves popping on her neck in anger.

“Miss Ashtrick we are doing our best. We have our procedures and methods we have to follow. Keep your trust in us.” Mrs Shikta finally spoke after collecting herself. “And let the killers roam freely. Very suitable.”

I was already by the door keeping trying to maintain a strong façade of power. “I would advise you not to hire any PI.”

I stopped and turned back to face her; Abhishek was already on his heels to see me off, the good friend he was.

“What makes you think I will respect your advice?” I asked.

She gave a cocky reply. “We wouldn’t want stupid things to overlap in the investigation and do a delay of another decade.”

“Maybe your definition of stupid is my acknowledgement of intelligence.”

She gave another unattractive stare to me. “I will make everybody pay in blood who will stand in my way.”

I gave a dangerous glare at her and yanked the door open. Why did she even think I would hire a private investigator after two weeks?

I’ve already done the minute my tears have dried for a few minutes; before father was even put in the casket.

“Vhrea do you want me to call someone to pick you up?” Abhishek asked the moment he was beside me; he was the ACP of the station, a friend with whom Fifeteen had collaborated several times for tracking potential mental health patients using our site sereneaffairs.help .

Maybe I should visit Sir Kongee downstairs, at my office, for a therapy session.

“I’m fine Abhi, I just need to cry for a bit and I am on my way to drop my car to the cleaning station.” I stopped in my tracks when I saw Emmet Grayson pacing impatiently near the waiting room seats. Why was she at the police station?

My nostrils flared in utter frustration of another disastrous day and her, the last person I wanted to see at the mindset I am in.

Abhishek might have seen me staring at Emmet. “This is like the 4th time her brother got a ticket for drunk drive, and a hit and run also. But the patient was saved so they settled with money for that one though.”

Emmet’s eyes met mine. For a second, she stood in shock and disbelief as if being caught cheating with my boyfriend; well, if I had any, in the present.

“That’s good then I like it when everyone is also suffering like I am.” I said, turning around, with a very placatable tone; not sure if I meant it or it was just that I hated Emmet so much.

“Hey, Destiny.” I snapped my fingers in front of her face as I turned towards her. “You don’t get to call me that!”

“I am sorry for your loss.” She said, completely ignoring the warning of my name.

“Why because you still have a father?” I’ve really wanted to spit this on someone but didn’t know I would do that on Emmet. Maybe God really knows the right timing to set the stage and his characters.

She looked taken aback for a second. “I mean it Vhrea. Can’t you just be nice when I am being trying to be good.”

“Emmet. I have all the reasons to be bad to you. And I don’t need your pity because I am still living better.”

“Without your father.” Emmet quickly realised it was a wrong way to complete a sentence. “Yes. Unlike you who is cleaning s**t of a brother. Way to go Emmet.”

“Humans all have different things to achieve while surviving, Vhrea.” From the side of my eye, covered in brown glasses, I saw her brother, jerk head Robert, looking drunk as hell as if he could just plop anywhere and pass a piss.

Coming back to her, I almost felt that to be a real and saddening statement. But it was coming from a manipulative, sardonic and self-centred b***h.

I smiled. “And ‘I better not show my face to Vhrea Destiny Ashtrick’ should be the first one in your survival goals list.”

I said walking off while Abhishek stayed back to provide Emmet some guidance for filling a whatever form required for bailing papers.

Controlling my tears all this time while driving to the My Star car washing centre, I requested them to let me stay inside while they performed the job.

Rolling up the windows I checked my phone which was having an unread message display.

To let some people, know their places it is important for a puppeteer to dance on the orders above or else there exists no stage for them. Bad blood isn’t our intention. So, drop the investigation because our options are quite open for the next target. Maybe a someone who is all dry during a carwash.

- Way to go Ù Ù

I didn’t know what to do but I knew I was being followed. Losing the last restraint of reasons, I let my tears flow.