Life is pain

"Life is pain, highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something."

-William Goldman

Her expression was stoic as she sat at the bottom of the stairs frozen in her grief, her ears could pick up the cries and lamentations coming from the upstairs bedroom, the incessant keening broke upon the air with its haunting sound and further broke her heart. Her eyes were fixated on the hallway that led to her father's office where the door was still shut close.

The clock in the living room struck one at night and Mishti knew she had been sitting there for almost three hours. She had entered the room where they had placed her elder brother's lifeless body; had taken one look at him and walked out of place with enough time to empty the contents of her stomach in the hallway. After that, she walked down the stairs and sat at the bottom motionless, while her mother and Ananya remained in the room where her dead brother was lying lifeless. Pari had disappeared to her bedroom with hollow eyes, without uttering a word.

Ishaan Khanna had locked himself in his study and hadn't come out since, his men and Sikander who had stopped briefly in front of her to inform her that Ronobir was on his way, were running around the property trying to investigate where the killer had found a breach and how was it that no one was able to see who was responsible.

Shruti, who was the only one still capable of thinking with a cold head, was running around fixing everything and taking care of countless details; like what story, they were going to tell, how the funeral was to be planned, and the million other specifics, Mishti didn't even want to think about; she was extremely grateful for her sister-in-law at the moment.

Mishti was dead tired and weary but refused to sleep because every time she closed her eyes all she could see was the face of her elder brother; her mind was plagued with the bittersweet memories of their childhood together and how handsome and haunted he had seemed that morning in which they had talked and reminisced about their childhood in the garden.

Less than a day ago he had been pushing her on that swing and now she would have to face a world without him. How could someone keep on living after something like this? How would she wake up every day knowing that her brother, her flesh and blood, was no longer part of the world? Mishti felt like someone was squeezing her heart inside her chest, the pain was more than she could bear and she honestly didn't imagine it ever not hurting.

"Are you okay?" a familiar voice startled her for a second, she was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn't even know when someone had come and sat down next to her.

"Mishti, are you okay?" she moved her head and found Veer staring at her with a broken expression on his face, his eyes filled with worry for her, she shook her head in denial and her eyes drifted back to the hallway

"I still don't know what happened," he told her. "How could someone do something like that and go unnoticed?"

"You tell me!" Mishti muttered hoarsely, her throat felt raw and her voice was raspy, from not saying a word the last couple of hours. "I didn't know we were at war." She knew that deaths happened in their world but killing the son of a mob boss under his roof was way too personal to be a casualty.

"We're not supposed to...", he began but quickly shut his mouth. Mishti had spent too much time around him to know that he wanted to say something more.

"What is it?"

"I'm sorry?"

She sighed and turned around to stare at him fixedly, "I know you, there's something you want to say."

"I don't think you're going to like it."

A mocking laugh left her lips, "That didn't stop you before."

He seemed about to dispute her comment but decided against it, his eyes darted to her father's office, before looking into her eyes again, "It hasn't crossed your mind that your husband might be behind this?"

Mishti's blood ran cold the minute the words left his mouth, "What?"

"Ansh was talking about ending the marriage, and getting you a divorce, and then today in the afternoon I heard your father arguing with Chatterjee over the phone," his eyes looked at her with genuine concern.

"You're wrong," Mishti told him recalling Ansh bhaiya's words that morning. But she had told him she and Ronobir were happy... could Veer be right?

"He's a beast! Mishti, and he already had people inside the house," he pointed out.

Mishti shook her head as she stood up from the stairs, her legs trembling slightly from shock and being stationary for so long, "No, no it can't be. Ronobir would never do that to me."

Although she said the words with conviction, some part of her wondered whether what Veer had said could be right. Ronobir had told her once that she would never be free of him and that he would kill anyone that got in his way. Was Ansh bhaiya in his way?

"Don't be so blind, Mishti!" Veer said standing up, his eyes turning stormy with anger as he stared at her. "Because if he is responsible for my best friend's life I will end him."

"Shut up!" Mishti bit out. "You don't even know what you're saying."

Sikander had burst into the room seconds after the gunshot, it would be physically impossible for him to kill Ansh bhaiya and yet be at her side so fast. But Ronobir hadn't answered any of her messages even though he had promised to be in Mumbai by night. What if he had found a way to sneak into the house and kill her brother?

She couldn't forgive that. She would never forgive that.

"Don't let him fool you, Mishti!" he gripped her shoulders and her eyes widened, his own eyes were frantic as they looked at her. "He is not who you think he is."

"Let go!" she released herself from his grip. "Don't you even dare to repeat what you have just said," she hissed before stomping away from him? Her feet took her into the front yard as her mind swirled a mile a minute.

Veer was wrong, Mishti knew exactly who Ronobir but somehow that made everything worse. Because the sad truth was that Ronobir was capable of killing in cold blood as her brother had been, but a part of her was telling her that he would never destroy her like that.

The chilly air of the night was like a shock to her skin as she stepped outside, her feet taking her instinctively to the made-up swing, where she and Ansh had shared a moment that beautiful morning. It seemed inconceivable how much life could change in a matter of seconds, how her entire world had crumbled down like a house of cards, leaving her devastated and heartbroken.

She sat down on the wooden bench and started rocking herself inconsolably, her feet barely lifting off the ground. She breathed in and felt the air getting stuck in her throat. Her brother was no more in her life; her Ansh bhaiya was dead and there was no way she could fix that.

Mishti didn't realize she was crying until she tasted the saltiness of the tears on her lips, it was like a dike had broken and now she couldn't stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks. Her chest was being split in half and the pain was so intense that she wanted nothing else but to curl up on the floor and cry till her jaws ached and her body trembled with unimaginable grief.

The sound of feet on the grass made her stop the swing and turn her head around to see her husband heading her way. He was wearing dark jeans and a gray t-shirt, and even in her forlorn state she couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked, but more than anything what captured her attention were his eyes; for the first time since she had met him, they were looking at her with utter warmth and tenderness.

"Sweety!" he whispered tenderly when he saw her tear-stained cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. He walked towards her and she moved back, he flinched slightly but composed himself quickly enough. "What's going on?"

"Just answer me this Ronobir..." her voice wavered as she spoke, "You've never lied to me before, don't start now, I need you to tell me the truth." He stared intently at her as she spoke, "Did you kill Ansh bhaiya?"

His frown softened as his eyes looked at her with something akin to hurt, "Of course, not Mishti, I would never do that to you." Though Veer's words kept reverberating in her head there was something in his expression that told her he was telling her the truth.

"You argued with my father today."

"Yes, I did."

"About what?"

"An issue with the Kamalis," Mishti stared at him confused.

"Your father has a past with them too," she closed her eyes and cursed mentally. How many more things was she kept in the dark about?

"Mishti I had no motive to hurt your brother, I swear I would never hurt you that way."

"Promise?" she choked out before bursting into a fit of uncontrollable crying. Ronobir didn't think twice about it and walked to her, sweeping her in his strong arms. She clung to him, bunching the shirt on his back as she let herself break down completely in his arms. Now that he was here and she was with him she could let herself go because she knew he would catch her and never let go.

Veer was wrong, she was wrong to accuse him. She knew Ronobir and deep inside her heart she had always known that there was no way he would have killed her brother, the way he was holding her now, stroking her hair, whispering sweet words into her ears, let her know with doubt that he would never do that to her. She felt a twinge of guilt at ever doubting him.

"I was scared to death," he muttered shakily. The excruciating interval spent from the moment Sikander had told him about what had happened to the time he had arrived at the house to finally see her, was going to haunt him for days. His body had been filled with a gut-wrenching fear of something happening to her and him not being there. Now finally holding her in his arms he couldn't feel anything but sweet relief and joy, at knowing she was alive and unhurt.

"It's going to be all right my love," he said as she slumped completely into his arms, sheer exhaustion taking its toll on her. "I will find the man who did this and I will bring his heart to you," he whispered against her ear, and instead of feeling repulsed by his promise she felt exhilarated. Mishti belonged to Ronobir, she was his and if someone hurt her he was going to do everything to make them pay, to make sure she got the revenge she deserved. The thought was reassuring and empowering because right now she wanted nothing more than to make the person, who had killed her brother, pay with his life, his blood, and as painfully as possible.

"I want them dead! Ronobir," she cried against his chest and his arms tightened around her. "I want to kill them myself."

"No my darling, I will kill them for you," he promised her before lifting her off the floor and walking inside the house, her tears falling silently as she snuggled into his chest.

The comfort that his arms offered felt like a welcome haven, as she felt the tiredness of the last couple of hours washes over her like a tidal wave. "You would never do something like that to me right?" she whispered.

"Of course not Mishti!" he answered truthfully. "I swear to you I wouldn't."

She nodded and felt herself drifting off into numbing inactivity, as he climbed the stairs and directed them to her room.

She was out cold in a matter of seconds, looking heartbreakingly vulnerable and desolate. Ronobir placed the duvet on top of her, kissed her forehead, and stared at her for a few moments before walking out of the room in the direction of Ishaan's office. Sikander had informed him that the older man hadn't left his office since hearing the horrifying news about the eldest Khanna's death, but he was damn well going to let him inside.

To Ronobir's surprise, the door wasn't locked, only closed, and as soon as he walked inside he felt assailed by a strong swell of grief at seeing the devastation etched into Ishaan's Khanna face. He looked like a broken man with nothing left inside him.

"I'm glad you're here Ronobir," the man said in a bare whisper as Ronobir walked inside the office. He took slow steps until he was standing in front of the desk behind the one Ishaan was sitting on; his shirt was rumpled, his hair a mess and his red-rimmed eyes stared at the floor completely hollow.

"Do you have an idea of who..."

"It was them!" the older man said without a trace of doubt. A dark shadow passed through Ronobir's face as he slowly took a seat on one of the black leather chairs placed in front of the desk.

"Are you sure?"

Ishaan took a crumpled piece of paper that was resting in front of him and handed it to Ronobir. Blood stains marked the paper, and a deep red fury coursed through his body as he read the words.

"Shit!" he muttered as his eyes skimmed the letters again. "Where did you find this"

"It was inside Ansh's pocket... when we saw his body... no one saw me pulling it out." Ishaan wasn't able to meet his eyes; instead, his empty stare was directed to the floor. "I never meant for this to happen"

"I knew!" Ronobir said remembering their earlier phone conversation. "How the fuck did they manage to get inside," Ronobir muttered more to himself than to the older man as he leaned back in the chair. The idea that someone from the Kamali family was in the same house as Mishti, a few hours ago, was something that distressed him more than he could explain.

"He won't stop Ronobir!" Ishaan told him, his words bringing him out of his thoughts. The older man was looking at him now and Ronobir could see nothing but fear in his eyes, "They will come for Pari and Mishti."

A blind rage coursed through Ronobir's body at his words, "He will never touch Mishti," he bit out. "You should have told me about this crap sooner Ishaan."

"I know Ronobir, don't you think I know that!" the distraught man nearly shouted, getting agitated. "If I hadn't been so blind with pride I would have realized this was something I couldn't deal with on my own"

A few years ago, even before Ronobir's sister was murdered, Ishaan Khanna had a run-in with the Kamalis', it had ended in a bloody war in which Salim's fifteen-year-old brother, Sajid, had been killed accidently. Although it had been an accident and Ishaan had never intended to kill the young boy, Ronobir knew very well, that accident or not, those things were never forgotten or forgiven in their world.

A couple of days ago, Ishaan had started receiving letters and messages that hinted at retaliation from the Russian mob, but the older man had decided to handle things on his own, thinking that the Kamalis were still hiding in Russia. Ronobir himself had only found out that they were back in America, which was why he was so adamant about arriving in Mumbai, but unfortunately it was too late because, by the time he had reached the city, Ansh Khanna had already paid for the sins of his father.

"This is entirely my fault!" Ishaan broke into a sob and Ronobir felt an unfamiliar stab in the chest at the sight of the broken man in front of him. "Everything that happens after this will be my fault."

"Get a grip, Ishaan!" Ronobir muttered harshly, the need to put a reign on his feelings made him snap at the older man. "Salimm does not get to win." He stood up while the older mafia boss broke down into sobs in front of him. "Look at me," his voice was commanding and Ishaan obeyed, lifting his teary eyes to face his glacial ones. "I will fix this mess and keep your family safe, you have my word."

A visible look of relief appeared on Ishaan's face, because he like everyone else in their world, knew that once Ronobir made a promise there was no going back, he would fulfill it to the very end.

Ronobir walked out of the office, with conflicted emotions churning inside him, he couldn't erase the image of the once larger-than-life Ishaan Khanna broken and crying in front of him, Udayveer hadn't looked even a fraction of this devastated when Sarah had died.

Flashes of his little sister's lifeless body assaulted his mind, and he took the turn that would lead him to the library, instead of Mishti's room. He was too wired and needed some time to cool off before going to her, he didn't want the monster to materialize tonight.

He entered the Khanna's household library and breathed in the scent of old pages and the barest hint of coffee. Ronobir had loved to read when he was a little boy and libraries had always been his place of escape from the harsh reality, they were the sanctuary to which he would run when living with his father became too much. When his mind was lost inside the world of books he could pretend to be someone else, someone good.

He mentally thanked Ishaan for having a stack of alcohol accessible; as he walked towards the small table placed next to the French doors that opened to a balcony, he took the decanter and poured himself a generous amount of bourbon before opening the doors, and walking outside. Mumbai's chilly air blustered his skin as he took a seat in one of the white Victorian chairs placed outside.

His mind kept going back to Ishaan and Sarah, to how different the Khanna boss was from his father to Ansh, and the devastation on Mishti's face when he saw her. He wanted to erase that pain and kill the people responsible for putting that expression on her beautiful face.

Ronobir was beginning to get worried at just how much this was affecting him, he feared he was starting to feel way too much for Mishti, and in his line of work, this could very well signal the end for him. He needed to get a grip on himself and his emotions if he wanted to think, deal with the Kamali, and end them once and for all.

"I saw you coming in here and I couldn't help it," Ronobir heard the soft voice of Pari and turned around to find her standing on the threshold of the French doors. Her face was void of any makeup for the first time since he met her, Ronobir thought briefly that she looked more beautiful like this than with all the things she piled on her face. Her dark eyes were vacant and her hair was up in a messy ponytail, she looked so vulnerable and scared that Ronobir felt instantly sorry for her.

"It's all right," he answered as he brought the tumbler to his lips and watched her stepping outside. "How are you?"

Her eyes stared straight ahead into the night, her eyes fixated on the made-up swing on one of the trees in the backyard. "I don't know!"

"It's hard... to deal with death like this," he said and Pari nodded at his words. As her eyes found him, what Ronobir saw in them surprised him; the girl was terrified and that was something he had never imagined her being.

"Ronobir... there's something I want to tell you."

He nodded, "You can tell me anything."

Her mouth opened as if to speak and just then the sound of the doors closing too harshly, resounded in the quiet night. "I'm sorry to interrupt," Ronobir heard the pissed-off voice of his wife and turned around to see her standing at the entrance of the balcony, a look of pure fury on her face.

Pari looked distressed at seeing her sister and instead of giving her one of her usual condescending smirks she just turned her attention back to Ronobir, "I'll talk to you later, it wasn't important," she muttered before scurrying out of the balcony.

"That sure as hell looked cozy," she mumbled as she leaned against the balcony railings, her eyes staring daggers at him.

"It was nothing," Ronobir placed his tumbler on top of the railing and walked towards her.

She scowled, "Of course, it's always nothing when it comes to Pari."

"If I wanted your sister I would have taken her a long time ago," he leaned towards her, his hand finding the railings on each side of her, trapping her with his body, "She did ask to be my wife first."

Mishti's eyes became steely as she raised her chin and looked him straight in the eye, defiantly, "Well maybe you should have accepted her offer, she would have been a better, more willing wife."

"I doubt that!" a half smile played on his lips, "Besides it's you I want, not her." His face leaned down until their noses were touching, he nuzzled into her face and felt her relax. "Nothing was happening and as much as I enjoy quarreling with you, let's not do this today."

Mishti nodded as she let him take her into his arms; the effort of staying upright seemed to be too much, so she gave herself up willingly to the comfort he offered. When she had woken up on her bed and hadn't seen him next to her, panic had gripped her, and then seeing him with her sister only made her emotions heighten even more. Ronobir made her feel so out of control, she didn't know how to deal.

"I'm sorry!" she whispered, her face buried in his chest as he stroked her back up and down.

"Don't be!" he told her gently before scooping her into his arms.

"You know I can walk right?" the hint of something resembling a smile appeared on her face as she stared into his bottomless brown eyes.

"Let me take care of you today," his expression was somber and she could do nothing but nod and snuggle into his embrace once again as he took them back to her room.

He placed her on the bed just like he had done earlier but this time her hand shot up and gripped his forearm before he could walk away. "Stay please," there was so much need in her eyes that Ronobir felt his chest inflate, the notion that she wanted him to stay with her made him feel like his heart would leap out of his chest. He laid down on the bed and draw her into the circle of his arms, she lifted her face and her eyes looked into his, "Ronobir I need you!" Her hands went inside his shirt and she started to explore the expanse of his exposed skin frantically.

Ronobir felt himself getting hard with need at her touches, his eyes closed briefly as he felt her placing butterfly kisses into his jaw and neck, her tongue darting out once in a while to lick an expanse of skin. He let his own hands roam the shape of her, gripping her ass and bringing him in closer contact with his body. "Fuck me!" she whispered in his ear as her hands went to work on the buttons of his jeans. Her words electrified every nerve in his body and it took every ounce of self-control he possessed to stop her and pull her away from him before he ravished her.

"No darling, not today."

She looked startled for a second before the emotion on her face transformed into a pure rage, "You won't sleep with me? I should have expected this."

"What do you mean?" he asked as he watched her pulling away from him and sitting up on the bed.

"Now you've made me need you. You know how much I want you and crave you. The game is over, you already got what you wanted," she turned so her back was to him and cursed mentally. "So now I've lost all the excitement, the chase is over and you don't want the prize anymore."

"You're crazy if that's what you think."

"Don't! just shut up Ronobir," she shrieked furiously.

He sat up as well, suddenly angry at her for making every bone in his body want to make her feel better, a part of him hated her for making him want to be better. "You have no idea what you're talking about Mishti," he moved behind her and took her in his arms, she struggled but in the end, she was no match for him. "I won't touch you when you're in this state, you're confused and have no idea what you want," he said in her ear, his arms were like steel bands, pinning her to his body. "I won't fuck you tonight Mishti because... I care too damn much about you." His words were choked up as he buried his face into her neck, kissing the soft skin there. Mishti threw her head back letting it rest on his shoulders as he whispered into his skin "You've made me feel for you... I care too much and I know you're in pain so I won't do it."

"I'm such an idiot," she whispered contritely.

"No, you're not!"

Next thing he knew Mishti had broken down in the throes of frenzied emotions, sobbing as if her heart would break. He turned her around to hold her in his arms as she cried, her tears soaking his shirt as he rocked her in the bed, giving her the comfort she craved so much, the comfort he never thought he could provide.

She cried until there were no more tears left, until finally, the fatigue of the nightmarish day took over, sleep claiming her once again. He stayed awake the entire night, his eyes fixated on the rise and fall of her chest as she slept.

Mishti had found the way into his heart and he was sure nothing was getting her out now.