Fear cuts deeper than swords

"Fear is the devil's greatest illusion."

-R.M DRAKE

The pain was an emotion that Mishti had never experienced before; her family had always pampered her and kept her away from all the things that could cause her any sort of emotional or physical harm. Her childhood had been a happy one; filled with love, laughs, and lots of joyous moments to treasure.

This agony she was feeling right now was crippling and tiring, and sometimes it struck her so hard that even the notion of leaving the bed in the mornings exhausted her. Memories of her brother lying on the ground inundated her mind, tormenting images of his lifeless body swirled in her brain, torturing her constantly. The pain was something new to her and she hated every minute of it, but she seemed to be unable to escape its vicelike grip on her heart.

Ever since she had returned to New York, time had become a strange thing to her, sometimes it went too fast and at other times it was agonizingly slow. Soon the hours became days and the days turned into weeks and without realizing it, it was already two months since that ill-fated night her brother had left her forever. February brought cold white nights with it and Mishti found herself passing many a day making snow angels with Shanaya.

She and Ronobir were closer and they were together more than ever before, ever since the first time they had made love they would spend many nights tangled around each other. Mishti never knew it was possible to feel so much for someone, every kiss and every touch fueled her need for him even further. The only moments that the pain seem to abate were those that she spent with him.

He was different too, gentler and kinder. He and Sikander had been working with her, teaching her various techniques of self-defense, and that included lessons in how to use a gun. Ronobir had taken her to dinner and the movies, they had a picnic in central park and even went away for a week to the Hamptons; it was like he was trying to take her away from all the grief and keep her occupied so that her mind wouldn't drift to relive those horrendous memories of her brother's untimely and cruel death.

All the kindness and attention Ronobir was bestowing on her served to carve an even bigger place in her heart for him and though she still had not said it out loud, Mishti was sure she had fallen in love with her husband. Unfortunately, she had no idea what he felt for her, he had once told her that he wasn't capable of loving anyone. Although in the darkness of the night when he thought she was asleep, she could hear him whispering it to her, she wasn't sure whether he was ready to admit it or acknowledge what he felt in the cold light of the day.

Did he truly mean what he said? Or was it something uttered in the heat of the moment when he found himself too caught up in the overwhelming feelings of their shared intimacy and passion, did those words slip out even though he didn't feel them? Did Ronobir love her? and even if he did could he acknowledge it or even recognize it as love? Mishti wanted to know the answer to that question more than anything but was too much of a coward to ask.

That particular morning, Mishti woke up not wanting to go out or socialize, so she lay lazily in bed for a few minutes, scrolling through her social media before getting up to take a shower and heading out towards the garden to eat breakfast.

The weather was still chilly so she wrapped a wool cardigan around herself before taking her breakfast from the kitchen and heading outside. There she found someone she hadn't expected to see; Mamta Chatterjee. She barely left her room most days so it was startling to find her sitting on one of the white garden table chairs placed outside.

Mishti hesitated a second but then decided to sit next to the older woman who greeted her with a small smile that hid a world of sorrow. Mamta always seemed to be sad and it broke Mishti's heart to know the reason behind the unhappiness in the woman's eyes.

"Good morning, Mishti!" the elder woman greeted her.

"Good morning Mrs. Chatterjee!"

Mamta looked at her with a twinkle in her eyes, "Please call me Mom, you are Mrs. Chatterjee now."

Mishti laughed nervously, "I still find it weird to be addressed as that."

Mamta made a tsking sound under her breath and at the same time she shook her head lightly, "Of course, God knows my son achieved that in the worst way possible."

A fleeting shadow passed through Mishti's eyes as she recalled how her relationship with Ronobir was anything but normal and that he had indeed approached her in the worst way possible, "It's okay, it's in the past now."

"You're a kind soul, Mishti," Mamta smiled warmly at her and reached across the table to hold her hand. "I'm sorry about your brother."

Mishti swallowed through the lump in her throat at the mention of Ansh bhaiya and nodded at the other woman, "Thank you"

Mamta's eyes were sad as she stared at her, before releasing her hand and leaning back on her chair, "I can only pray you'll find a way to heal from this wound," she said as she pulled away her hand to play with the cross that rested on her neck.

"I'm trying," Mishti answered before taking her cup of tea to her mouth and sipping slowly, the warm liquid felt wonderful against her throat on the cold, blustery morning of February.

"But it's hard" her eyes had a faraway look as she said melancholically, "I should know, but this is the price for the life we live." Her knuckles were white and she was clutching the cross around her neck firmly.

Mishti's mind went back to her brother's lifeless body; Ansh bhaiya never had a choice or a chance, he was always meant to be who he was and that meant living with a target on his back from the moment he came into the world. "Not fair right?"

"Not at all," Mamta said gloomily. "I hope you can find comfort in Ronobir."

"I am" Mishti answered truthfully. While it was true that her relationship with Ronobir hardly had a conventional start and they had begun their journey on the wrong foot, he had changed a lot over the past few weeks, and to give him credit, it was solely due to his tender treatment and supportiveness that she had not completely lost her sanity after her elder brother's brutal murder.

"He wasn't always like this you know. He was such a bright boy once upon a time but his father managed to destroy every trace of goodness in him." A hint of bitterness tinged her voice as she spoke, "I must warn you though, if it's love you're after, you will be disappointed... I don't know if you'll be able to get it from him."

Mishti's blood ran cold at hearing the words that left her mother-in-law's mouth, "Mom I don't think..."

"I remember when he was eight years old, I had been so caught up in taking care of Rishabh that I didn't realize my husband was sinking his claws too deep into my baby boy," a shadow of regret appeared briefly on her face as she cut Mishti's sentence to continue. "That summer Jaykant Tiwari came to live in the house, he was my husband's consigliere and most trusted adviser, and he brought his family with him. Pihu and Atharv," a smile appeared on her lips. "They were Ronobir's age and became instant friends," Mamta sighed as her eyes appeared to be lost in old remembrances, "My boy became happy again, he loved those two deeply and during the year they lived here he smiled again."

"What happened?"

Mamta's expression became aggravated, "Jaykant Tiwari broke the most sacred rule of The Italian Mafia."

Mishti felt her stomach wrenching with the realization "...silence," she whispered in a stricken tone.

"And you know what happens to rats."

"Ganpati Bappa!" Mishti uttered horrified as the inkling of what might have transpired struck her.

Mamta's face looked contorted with rage and yet when she spoke her voice was as soft and serene as always, "He took Ronobir with him you know? My eight-year-old boy had to stand still as his father killed his childhood friends." Her hand went back to play with the pendant around her neck, "Some say he burned them alive, others that he shot them, I'll never know but Ronobir does, I'm sure the image is etched in his brain."

Mishti felt the blood draining from her face as she stared at her mother-in-law, and while she tried to be objective and put herself in the woman's shoes, she couldn't fathom the idea of a mother allowing someone to harm her child in that horrific way without doing something about it, "Bappa!" she uttered.

"I know what you must think of me," Mamta told her as if she had somehow read Mishti's thoughts. "But you never knew my husband, you don't know the kind of monster he was," her eyes looked wild now. "You're lucky Ronobir is not like Udayveer, he's not as much of a barbarian or inhuman as he was. Udayveer was a depraved sadist who relished in blood, Ronobir does not but something inside him is broken." Her voice wavered as she spoke, "I don't think he's capable of loving Mishti, I don't think he can feel!"

Mishti stared at the woman not knowing what to say, her eyes burned with unshed tears, "I don't think that's true."

"You have a kind soul, Mishti," she smiled sympathetically at her and once again reached out to hold her hand. "Don't let him break you."

"He won't, he won't..." Mishti said with conviction. She didn't believe what Mamta or even Ronobir himself told her, she knew that somewhere deep inside him there was a man who was capable of love; she just had to try harder to find him.

They spent the rest of their breakfast in complete silence, Mishti's mind kept churning with all the information Mamta had shared with her and her heart ached for that defenseless little child who had the innocence stolen for him in the cruelest of manners.

Ronobir's loved ones suffered because of the life he lived. Why would he allow himself to love anyone when he knew that sooner or later someone would rob him of them? In so many ways, he was still that little boy whose friends had been brutally killed in front of him, whose mom wasn't strong enough to defend him, and whose father, the man he admired the most, had dealt callously with him and everyone around him.

Bit by bit, Mishti felt herself unraveling the enigma that was Ronobir Chatterjee and with every new piece of information she unearthed, she started to wonder if perhaps salvation was possible for him.

Mishti spent the rest of the morning locked in her workshop; her mood was despondent and she didn't feel like going out. Her mind was occupied with thoughts of her husband and her brother, as her hands busied themselves with the sketchbook in front of her. She got lost in her work for hours, but as soon as she heard him arrive she dropped everything and ran to their bedroom, only to find him bruised, with a shirt stained with blood.

"What happened?" she asked in a strained whisper but he ignored her as he headed towards the bathroom and discarded his shirt. "Ronobir... what happened?" she asked more loudly now.

He smashed his hands against the granite counter and Mishti saw how hurt and bloodied they were, "Salim Kamali is what happened!"

She felt a hole form in her stomach at the mention of that name, "What do you mean?" Fear gripped her at the idea of Ronobir facing that man, "You saw him!"

His jaw twitched as he turned to face her, "No, but it seems I can't control my people anymore." His eyes blazed with fury and for the briefest of seconds, she was afraid of him.

"What?"

Ronobir started to unbutton his shirt and she could see his hand shaking with barely-contained rage, "Fucking Salim eluding me is making some people doubt if I'm cut out to be their boss!"

She walked towards him and held his hands stopping them as she started to unbutton his shirt, "So tonight...?"

He bit out the words as he let her finish with the buttons of his shirt, "I was reminding them why am I called THE BOSS of all bosses!"

Mishti stayed in silence for a few seconds, trying to process what he was telling her, she wondered if the bloodied hands that now lay at his sides had taken a life tonight and what it meant that she didn't even care if they had.

"Aren't bugs more drawn to honey?" she asked with genuine interest while helping him out of his bloodied shirt. She threw the shirt onto the floor and guided him to a granite bench placed next to the shower.

"It doesn't apply to all things," he said as she forced him to sit down and went to the sink cabinet to retrieve a first aid kit, "Machiavelli's entire work in 'The Prince' talks about how it is better to be feared than loved because, in the end, the fear of pain is the only thing that will remain."

He felt his rage diminishing and he watched with rapt interest as she sat on his lap and placed the kit and a water bowl next to him on the bench, "But also you have to find the balance to be fearsome but not enough to be hated."

"Damn!" she said as she took a towel and dipped it in the water.

"It's not an easy job," he said softly as she took his hand and wiped the blood off it with the wet cloth. His heart started to beat frantically in his chest at her sweet gesture and that weakness bothered him. "I can't let them believe I am weak, because I am not," he bit out harshly.

"I know that!" Mishti nodded as she focused on the job of cleaning his bloodied and bruised knuckles. They remained in silence as she washed his hands and then applied antiseptic before putting a small bandage on them. He watched her ministrations with utter fascination, as no one before her had ever been so tender and gentle with him as they tended to his wounds.

There was no doubt in his mind that Mishti was not like anyone he had met before and with each passing day he spent by her side he found himself falling deeper into the pureness that was her essence. He was so wrapped up in her that he was starting to lose sight of who he was, and that is the very thing that was causing him so much trouble lately.

When she dropped the first aid kit back on the bench and told him she was done, he couldn't help himself and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body closer to his so he could bury his face in her chest, "You drive me crazy you know that?" Her hand went instantly to his naked back, caressing the soft skin there, "From the moment I laid eyes on you I knew I couldn't let you go."

Mishti felt tale tell signs of arousal starting to build in her and her heart beat begin to soar, but she didn't let herself be swept away by it, "Ronobir..."

"You're all I can think about...all the time," he started kissing the bit of olive skin showed by her cleavage as his hands toyed with the buttons of her shorts, "I'm obsessed with you."

"Ronobir...can I ask you something?" the minute the words left her mouth he stopped his kisses and raised his head to stare at her.

"Anything!"

Mishti took a deep breath and shuddered as she spoke, "Do you love me?" His eyes widened and she saw something resembling fear in them, "or is it just an obsession that you feel for me?"

"Mishti..." he trailed off and took a deep breath before continuing, "I care about you, so much." He dropped his forehead until it was pressed against hers. "I care for you more than I've ever cared for anyone but I don't think I can ever love you or anyone for that matter."

She felt the air being sucked out of her lungs and she felt like she had been sucker punched; she had wanted to believe that hearing him say it wouldn't affect her as much, but the truth was that she felt devastated. She wanted her husband's love more than anything and hearing him say he could never do it was a direct blow to her heart. "Then why did you tell me?" Her voice was a strained whisper as she spoke; his eyes looked at her pleadingly. Wanting her to understand something she couldn't even understand himself. "All right then," she raised her chin trying not to break down in front of him and to maintain some semblance of her dignity, she moved to stand up but his hands on her hips stopped her.

"No, hear me out!" his voice was pleading in a way she had never heard before, "It's not about you or even about us, it's all about me. I told you once that I'm not capable of love and I wasn't lying but that doesn't mean you are nothing to me, you're everything! I would die for you; I would do anything for you," his fingers were digging into the skin of her hips as his eyes begged her to understand.

"I love you!" she blurted out, unable to keep it hidden much longer, his eyes widened at this and he let out a soft gasp.

"Mishti..." he whispered looking down dejectedly not knowing what to say. How long had he wished for those words? How long had he selfishly wanted to become the center of her world now that she was telling him those very words, he couldn't help but feel a stab of pain in his chest because this wasn't fair to her, because he had done it all wrong and he was going ending up hurting one of the only people he cared about in the world.

He had yearned for her love, knowing fully well that he could never love her back the way she deserved to be loved, and wasn't that the vilest act someone could commit against a person? He had taken her out of her world and brought her into his, only to bring suffering to her life. Wasn't he the worst kind of monster?

The touch of her hand on his cheek, made him search her eyes with his once again, "It's the truth, I've fought so much against it but I couldn't help it. I love you!" Her eyes were glistening with tears and a resigned smile graced her lips, "And I'm okay with that because I will love enough for both of us."

He dropped his head into her chest and once again drew her to him, "I don't deserve you!" The emotions eddying inside him threatened to rip him apart, and he felt an overwhelming need to be close to her, to somehow her how much she truly meant to him, "Bappa knows I don't deserve you."

Ronobir raised his head and brought her lips to his, getting lost in the taste of her immediately. His hands found the edge of her camisole and he lowered the straps right alongside her bra and pressed her closer to him, their naked chests touching each other in the most delicious of ways. She gasped into his mouth and he relished in the feeling of their breaths mingling with each other, that way she could become a part of him.

"You are my happy pill, Mishti," he whispered against her lips, she closed her eyes and threw her head back, and he immediately ran his fingers down her neck to her breast before latching his mouth to her dusky nipples.

"Ronobir!" she whimpered as he nipped and sucked on her nipples.

Her hands were tangled in his hair as he worshiped her chest like a starving man, Mishti had come to notice that Ronobir was a breast man, and every time he had the chance he demonstrated to her how much he loved hers. "Damn it Ronobir" She groaned as she moved her lower body to rub against him. His fingers dug deeper into the skin of her hips as he thrust upwards, trying to relieve some of the tension growing inside him. His aching cock was crying to be released and buried inside her warmness.

"Damn it woman" He whispered against her chest, his tongue swirling around her dusky nipples.

They were so caught up in each other that they missed the door opening and footsteps approaching. They realized someone was in the room only when they heard him speak, "Not my intention to interrupt but I need you!" His brother's clipped words made Ronobir stop in his tracks, his jaw clenched when he saw the state Mishti was in and how much of her body was uncovered to prying eyes.

"If you value your life you would turn around Rishabh," he all but growled as Mishti tried to adjust her clothes back on, a blush on her cheeks.

"You're ridiculous," Rishabh said, rolling his eyes.

"Not joking," Ronobir bit out.

The young Chatterjee huffed and headed back into the bedroom, "Fine!"

Ronobir placed a final peck on Mishti's lips before she stood up, "What is it?" he asked.

He heard Rishabh's impatient grunt, "Get the fuck out of there."

"Someone's grumpy," he chuckled as he walked out of the bathroom with Mishti trailing behind him, "What is this?"

Rishabh thrust what seemed to be a letter into his hands, "Read it."

Ronobir skimmed through the paper in his head and felt the blood start to boil in his veins as he finally understood the look of utter rage on his brother's face, "Mother fucking son of a bitch!"

Mishti frowned; worry filling her at seeing the distressed expression on her husband's face, "What happened?"

Ronobir sighed and proceeded to read the contents of the letter his brother had handed over to him.

I've never seen anything more beautiful than the sunlight reflecting on her hair or smelled anything sweeter than her floral perfume and the hint of lavender she carries around. Her laughter and the sound of her voice, make me dream about my name coming out of those lovely lips. You own something I want, something that will be mine sooner or later.

Send my love to Shruti!

S.K

"Bappa" Mishti covered her mouth with her hand as she shrieked out in utter astonishment and fear.

Rishabh's eyes flared up as he took the note from his brother's hands and crumpled it in his hands, "I am going to rip his head off with my bare hands," he snarled, barely-contained rage and venom dripping out of his every word.

"Where is she?" Mishti asked worriedly.

"With her mother, on her way here!"

"Fuck!" Ronobir muttered, running his hands through his hair.

"I mean it Ronobir; I am going to kill that son of a bitch!"

Ronobir nodded knowing fully well that even though his brother might not always seem to be cut out for the job, he loved Shruti dearly and would never let anyone touch her. Salim Kamali had made a huge mistake threatening his brother's fiancee because now both the Chatterjees were going to unleash their fury on him.

When Shruti came back with her mother, the atmosphere in the living room was filled with tension, as Rishabh paced back in forth in front of the fireplace. The worried girl tried to reassure them once again that there was no way she had met Salimm Kamali without realizing it.

"There must be something or someone you're missing out on," Ronobir insisted, one of his hands was encompassed in Mishti's and she was tracing circles on its back, the mere action soothing him and forcing him to release the tension that had assailed him ever since the moment his brother had showed him the letter.

"Shruti think again," Arya Sareen, the renowned and dangerous Queen Pin told her daughter. Mishti couldn't conceive how stupid Salimm could be to mess with Shruti knowing fully well to what an extent she was protected by many people.

"Come on, Rishabh you know I've had a bodyguard with me most days since the incident at Mishti's house," the agitated girl told them and Ronobir squeezed Mishti's hand sympathetically at the mention of what had happened in her house. Although the memory of that day still haunted her, at the moment the only thing she could worry about was the safety of her friend.

"Let's trace back your steps," the younger Chatterjee said while showing his fiancée much more patience than what he was feeling. "Come on sweety."

Shruti huffed and slumped back against the wine-colored couch in the Chatterjee living room, "Let's see I wake up and go to that coffee shop I love so much in Brooklyn, then to my yoga class, then to work." She directed her eyes towards Rishabh, "You meet me at work, we eat lunch there, and then come out and I either come here or go with mom and that's it!"

"There's no way he could meet you at work," Ronobir said more to himself than anyone else. Shruti worked as one of the managers of the restaurants in the Chatterjee chain so there was no way Salim could sneak in there without having someone from his people spot him.

"Have you noticed someone weird in yoga class?" Mishti asked her friend.

Shruti shook her head and her mother released a huff, distressed at their inability to pinpoint where that despicable man had approached her daughter, "It's an all-girls class."

Rishabh was about to speak again, a vein popping in his forehead when Sikander walked inside holding a manila envelope, "Boss I have them!" the man said before handing the paper over to Ronobir who wasted no time in tearing it up immediately.

"Great, thanks Sikander!" Ronobir said and Sikander nodded before leaning against the wall next to the fireplace. "Shruti this is a picture of Salimm, a few years back, he was around twenty when this picture was taken."

Ronobir stood up, missing Mishti's hand immediately, and went to her sister-in-law handing her the picture he was holding. "Bappa!" Shruti gasped, making Rishabh turn in her direction and sit next to her on the couch immediately, "I've seen him."

"Where?" her boyfriend bit out as she dropped the picture in the fireplace as fast as if it had burned her.

"At the coffee shop," she whispered while giving him a panicked look. "He's always there, sometimes he greets me good morning but nothing more, I never thought too much of it."

"Son of a bitch!" Rishabh muttered and stood up once again followed by Ronobir. "He's been under our noses the entire time."

"We can't let this one slip Ronobir," Arya interjected as she shot a hard glare in the direction of one of her best friends.

"Of course, we won't!" he said while placing a hand on the shoulder of his very distressed brother. "Go to my office, we have a business to attend to. Sikander get Rudra to come here!" his voice was clipped as he spoke. "Not you girls," he said referring to Mishti and Shruti.

"You can't shut me out of this Ronobir!" Shruti exploded and Mishti was about to shoot off and support her friend when Ronobir raised a hand in the air and silenced whatever the girls were about to say

"I will not keep either of you in the dark," his brown eyes looked meaningfully at Mishti, "You'll be informed of everything afterward but this is something we need to discuss alone."

Shruti protested for a few seconds but Mishti convinced her to let this one go and have some ice cream and watch a movie with Ananya and Nandani. As they left to go upstairs the doe-eyed girl shot a look at her husband letting him know he wasn't going to walk away from this one.

He smirked and nodded at her as he watched her walk away from the living room. Once they were gone the rest of them moved to Ronobir's office where they waited for Rudra to arrive, both Rishabh and Arya were impatient and could barely contain their anger towards Salim and what his approach towards Shruti could represent.

"What are you going to do about this Ronobir?" Arya asked, her inflexible glare directed at Ronobir. "Because if you don't I sure as hell will."

He was about to answer when Rudra interrupted him as he walked inside the office. "No need for us to act like this. He wants to pit us against each other and we won't let him," Arya seemed to relax at his words but the angry energy still rolled off her body in waves.

"We need to keep an eye on everyone everywhere," Ronobir told him sternly. "And we'll not let this threat go unnoticed," he looked Arya straight in the eyes, "We've been keeping an eye on Salim's sister and it is time to send a message." He sent a glance towards Sikander who nodded at the unspoken request.

Rishabh reached his hand to grip Arya's arm, "I won't let her out of my sight." There was no hesitation in his voice as he spoke.

Arya nodded and gave him a small smile, "I won't either," her eyes moved back to Ronobir. "We have to lure him out."

Rudra nodded, "That's why we go after his sister."

Afterward, they spent a couple of minutes reassuring Arya that Salim wasn't going to come near Shruti again and that by using Ayesha they would finally make him reveal himself. She left the Chatterjee mansion agreeing to let Shruti spend the night.

The five remaining men stayed in the room drinking and exchanging thoughts on the dilemma they had at hand. The people in that room were the ones Ronobir trusted blindly, and if someone was going to help him solve the mess they had found themselves in, it was going to be them.

"Salim is proving to be much more trouble than we thought he was going to be," Rudra said in a contemplative tone as he swirled his bourbon-filled tumbler.

Ronobir leaned back on his big leather black chair as he rubbed his fingers across his temples, "There's something we're not seeing." The exasperation in his voice was evident, "What did you get on Veer?" he directed the question at Sikander. There was something about that man that Ronobir didn't trust and it wasn't just that he had feelings for his wife, something in him wasn't right and he just couldn't figure out what it was.

Sikander nodded, "He's clean, I've checked all the data twice, there's nothing shady about him."

"He's an ass but that's it, I've seen the evidence and it doesn't appear to be anything wrong with him," Rishabh said seconding Sikander's information.

Rudra could see the tension on Ronobir's face and decided they needed to cool down, "Let's just wait to see how this thing with Ayesha unfolds."

"Yeah!"

A thought kept churning in his head, Pari had wanted to say something to him the night Ansh had died but Mishti had interrupted them. She had been scared, he was sure of it.

"Damn it! Pari," he muttered.

He had a feeling that she was hiding something and he wanted to know what it was.