Page 2 of Born in Sin
Maria Fernandez. She was Maria Fernandez, the English teacher’s, daughter. The same Maria Fernandez he’d caught in Mohan’s room, a short while ago…bent over the desk with Mohan draped over her.
“He’ll be fine,” the warden said dismissively. “Go to the infirmary if you’re sick,” she told Virat without glancing at him. Celina gave Virat a hapless look as she was towed away. He watched her go. This girl who’d looked like she cared. She didn’t care. No one did.
Chapter One
VIRAT
The cavernous studio was a universe by itself – sealed off from the outside world, buzzing with carefully controlled chaos. Artificial light illuminated every corner of the space, making it hard for a man of shadows to blend in.
He stood in a corner, arms crossed over his chest as he watched her in the arms of another man. She lifted her face to his, hair tumbling over her shoulders as the other man gazed lovingly at her. Jealousy roared, its green claws digging into his heart and making it hard to take a breath.
Around the edges of the soundstage, the usual hum of production surrounded the silence at the centre like a heartbeat—Assistant Director or AD’s, as they were known, whispering into headsets, a cameraman tracking the camera’s arc with surgical focus. The director sat just behind the monitor, elbows on knees, watching the scene unfold like it was a secret being confessed only to him.
Virat Jha wanted to smash the director’s head into the screen, but he only took a deep breath and jammed his hands into his pockets instead.
The hero drew a trembling finger along her jaw, his eyes speaking of a longing so intense, it resonated in Virat’s chest. The handsome douchebag lowered his head to her, her waiting lips, painted red and parted slightly in silent invitation and, as he watched them, Virat thought he’d finally lose control of the monster that lived within him.
“Cut!” The director’s shout sliced through the tension, hauling him back from the edge of a cliff he’d lived his entire life poised on.
She pulled away, immediately, her face and body shutting down, all emotion wiped clean like it had never existed. He watched her give her co-star a smile as she stepped out of the man’s embrace and turned to the AD who was handing her a bottle of water. She took a long sip, her throat working as she swallowed, turning away from him and walking towards someone sitting in a chair.
He was too far away to hear the conversation, her voice pitched low enough to keep the dialogue private. But he heard her laugh, the sound low and warm, sweet honey seeping through his veins.
He should go. He shouldn’t be here. He’d called her a few days ago and she’d hung up the minute she’d heard his voice. If that wasn’t a clear indication of her feelings towards him, he didn’t know what was.
And still, he pushed himself away from the wall and walked over to where the producer stood, deep in conversation with the director.
“I’m just saying that we’re already twenty percent over budget,” Dinesh Bhagat was saying as Virat reached them.
“You can’t put a number to a dream,” the director, Shivam Rathore, argued.
“Yes, I can,” Dinesh said drily. “Especially when it’s my company’s accounts hemorrhaging that number.”
“Dinesh,” Virat interrupted, his gaze going over the man’s head to where she stood.
“Virat, my man!” Dinesh turned, enthusiasm oozing from him. “It’s been too long. I was kicked when I got your message saying you’d be dropping by.”
Virat pulled his gaze away from her and to the man who’d once been a valued client and now was a good friend.
“It’s good to see you,” he said, forcing a smile. “It looks like you have a hit on your hands.”
“From your lips to God’s ears,” Dinesh replied, knocking on a wooden table near them. “Have to admit, you’re the last person I expected to see on a film set.”
“I’m the last person who expected to be here.” He turned, positioning himself, so the director got the hint and walked away, leaving the two of them alone. “I need a favour, Dinesh.”
Dinesh’s gaze sharpened. “You do?”
There was an unspoken code in Virat’s life. If he asked for a favour, he returned one when due. And Virat Jha owing you a favour was the golden goose that no one looked away from.
Sure enough, Dinesh almost tripped over himself to ask, “What can I do with you?”
“I’d like an introduction to your leading lady.”
For a split second, Dinesh looked confused and then he started to laugh. “Seriously? That’s it?”
Dinesh started walking even before his chuckles subsided. Virat followed, no hint of a smile on his face.
“I would never have pegged you for the starstruck type.”
