Vengeance

“You’re sending me away?” Ira whispered, looking up from the single plane ticket clenched in her hands. “L-Linus?” She choked as she looked into her lover’s eyes.

“Sabrina, I- ” he was at a loss for words. He remained silent with uncertainty.

Ira searched his eyes until her own were brimmed with tears. She smiled sadly, turning to face the window. She peered down from the high rise they were standing inside and watched the bustling city-the bright lights, flooded streets, and air filled with chatter, yet she never felt so alone.

“You’re only supposed to start missing things after you’ve said goodbye to them, right?” She laughed sorrowfully.

“I guess I’ve forgotten how to feel. I don’t remember what it’s like to not feel broken,” she whispered.

“CUT!” Murmurs broke out on the set.

Ira wiped her tears and turned around to her co-star John. “You were fantastic,” he beamed.

Karan Varma, who was directing the modern-day Sabrina adaptation, strode over to them, smiling.

“Seriously Karan, you couldn’t have cast a better Sabrina if you tried,” John continued.

Ira responded with a grin, “I couldn’t have played as well without your cooperation.”

John shook his head and chuckled, “Always so humble.” Just then, he was beckoned by one of the producers, “Well that’s my cue, I’ll catch you later.”

Ira looked over at Karan, who remained silent but had a knowing grin on his face. She gave him a pointed look, “Karan, how did I do?” Karan opened his mouth to speak but Ira raised her hand to stop him, “And enough with the compliments. You’re the director, you’re supposed to criticize me so I could do better.”

“What if I said you nailed the scene?” He smiled. “Come on, I’ll show you,” he nodded his head at the camera set a few meters away.

As they crossed the set to the equipment, Ira received praise from the crew at which she smiled half-heartedly.

Karan played the recording of the scene that was just shot. Her character Sabrina finds out Linus’s plan to pretend to accompany Sabrina back to Paris but then not join her on the plane.

“You were terrific,” Karan commented as they both watched.

However, Ira thought differently, she always felt there was room for improvement and remained critical of her work. As she observed the scene, she felt her acting was more acceptable in certain parts in comparison to others.

“It’s heartbreaking, isn’t it? Even after she completely changes herself and she now receives the attention, respect, and acknowledgment she always wanted—she can’t fill the hole in her heart,” Karan went on passionately. “You captured it perfectly.”

Ira almost laughed, as if he’d been telling her about her own life. “It’s because I can resonate with her,” she said. “Hearts live by being wounded.”

Karan frowned but before he could respond, they were approached by one of the camera operators.

“Boss, we have a problem. There was a mirror angled at the crew and you can see the whole setup from the reflection,” he explained. “It only appears for a few seconds but it’s still visible in the frame.”

“What?” Karan asked annoyed. “I thought I told you to get rid of the mirror for this scene?”

“We did,” he sighed. “But Sybil accidentally placed the mirror back when we started shooting after lunch,” he turned and pointed at a woman behind him, who appeared to be one of the many assistants on set.

Both Karan and Ira twisted around to catch her giving what was supposed to be a regretful shrug.

“Oh God,” Karan turned back around and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Ira kept watching, long enough to see this so-called Sybil break into a crooked tooth cheshire grin. A deceitful gleam filled her eyes before she walked off the set completely.

“All right, show me where” Karan spoke to the cameraman. As they played back the recording, Ira calmly followed in pursuit of Sybil.

The job is done. Sybil quickly sent out the text before she entered the vast dressing room. She approached her colleague who oversaw organizing the outfits for each scene.

“Ugh!” He cried. “I can’t wait till we become the next famous superstars, we’re totes more deserving.”

“Oh definitely, at least we have talent!” Sybil cackled. “I heard Ira slept her way up the industry,” she snickered.

“She must be good. No wonder Karan agrees to everything she says,” he smiled slyly.

Ira approached the open corridor to the dressing room and leaned against the entrance doorframe. The two friends continued gossiping venomously.

“That’s the only thing she’s good at—spreading her fucking legs. She’ll do anything for a check,” Sybil sneered spitefully.

Ira felt her jaw tense and a fresh swell of anger rose in her. However, the fire quickly died down as soon as it came. She chuckled darkly.

The smooth click of heels echoed into the dressing room, notifying Ira’s presence. The two minions’ chatter came to a halt.

“You’re right, I do sleep with men for money,” Ira said as she approached the two. “And look where it got me, compared to you,” she said haughtily.

Ira leaned down so their eyes were at level, “But let’s not act like you getting no action is a choice.”

Her eyes snapped down Sybil’s body in disgust, “A cunt like yours isn’t even worth a dollar.”

A wicked smile etched onto Ira’s face as she watched Sybil redden in humiliation.

“Ira, I just got a call from-” Karan paused as he walked into the room.

“What’s going on?” He looked at the pair cowering in shock and then back at Ira.

“Nothing,” Ira smiled sweetly. “I was just telling them to smile more,” she said as she strolled towards Karan.

“I love the color yellow,” Ira gave a final wink before exiting the dressing room with Karan following behind.

“What was that about?” Karan asked as he fell in step beside her.

“Don’t worry about it,” Ira laughed. She stopped walking, “What were you saying, Karan?”

“Jay called and said you have an urgent event to attend. He said if you don’t arrive on time, I’m at fault for his wrinkles and ruining your career,” Karan sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. “We’ll continue filming another day.”

“Shit,” Ira groaned. “I’m going to hear it from Jay- I’m sorry Karan, you’ll let me know when we’ll reshoot?”

“Don’t worry just go before I get in trouble,” Karan reassured. Ira nodded before hastily speeding away to change out of her filming clothes. The clock was ticking.

Antoni Kohl, an executive chairman of Katoch & Company bank, sighed in relief and relaxed into the driver seat of his car, having narrowly escaped questioning by a surprise visit from the cops.

Humming to the radio, Kohl checked his side mirror at the red light but does a double take when he noticed the same sleek black car he saw in front of his office following him all along.

Kohl stretched his body to peer out the window slightly then quickly sat back down when he heard the engine behind him roar mockingly.

A devilish grin split Veer’s face as he imagined Kohl sweating in his seat. “I’m on him, Mark. He knows.”

“Veer, don’t do anything irrational,” Mark warned on the other end of the phone call.

Mark was another police detective in the NYPD. Veer and Mark met in the early stages of their career at the law enforcement academy. After graduating from the academy, Mark stayed and was assigned to the Detectives Bureau unit, while Veer continued working in the field as he completed his education at Columbia Law School. Alongside practicing civil law, Veer was subsequently promoted to the rank of detective and occasionally represented the bureau as an attorney.

“They deserve what’s coming,” Veer said ominously.

They were currently overseeing an investigation into Katoch & Co. bank’s handling of financial matters related to a recent Hollywood trafficking scandal. Many of the victims were girls as young as 14 years old.

Veer hung up the call, his grip on the steering wheel tightening.

He believed society’s true character is revealed by the way they treat its children; unfortunately, civilization has only exposed the ugliness of human nature. Predators were everywhere, climbing the social ladders of power and influence. However, he was determined to fulfill his civic duty to protect the innocence of children.

As soon as the light turned green, Kohl attempted to take off but panicked in between, hitting the brake pedal instead of the gas several times before finally speeding away. Veer cavorted playfully around the light traffic as they zoom into the freeway.

Kohl accelerated, building in speed and energy, however, Veer maintained calm at the wheel, weaving from lane to lane. Following Kohl’s abrupt turn, he plowed through traffic and swerved a hard right out of the intersection and into the busy streets of Manhattan.

Almost, Veer thought, hot on his tail.

°°°

Ira quickly got in her car, heading to the location hosting New York Fashion Week.

It was the last day, and the previous days had been spent bouncing back and forth between shooting and walking the runway. Ira was thankful the film set was only 15 minutes away.

Distracted, Ira unlocked her phone and called Jay, her manager, while she drove.

“My hair!” Jay cried out immediately answering the phone.

“Jay? What happened?!” Ira panicked.

“It’s turned gray from all the stress you caused!” He snapped. Jay was under 100 layers of stress and anxiety but was still trying to maintain the appearance of functionality.

Ira was the showstopper for the last exhibition of NY Fashion Week. Tabloids already sparked rumors and if she misses this, all her sponsorships and brand deals would opt out.

“Zainab Ali just notified me that if you aren’t at the trial fitting in 20 minutes, she’s going to replace you!” Jay shouted.

Bodhi, Jay’s assistant, started fanning him hysterically hoping he wouldn’t break out into a sweat. “Apparently your understudy already sent her measurements and she’d be a perfect substitute if you don’t get here on time!”

“Who’s this-”

“Rumpelstiltskin.”

“Svetlana. Of course,” Ira realized. Svetlana was out to get Ira the minute she entered the industry and it was even worse since the media fueled the competition between the two stars.

“Jay, I’m almost there. I think I’ll make it on time for the fitting,” Ira said as she pressed the gas pedal and accelerated. “Don’t you trust me?”

“No.”

“Smart man,” Ira snorted, as she makes a turn on a red light. “Look I’m turning the corner I’ll— Shit!” Ira felt her body being jolted as she hit another car.

Veer was close behind Kohl when he was hit by a gray Porsche that appeared out of nowhere.

Anger mounted within him. Kohl would undoubtedly book the first flight out of the country, and the case was now back to square one. Veer stepped out of the car, ready to give a piece of his mind.

“Ira?” Jay screamed on the other end of the line.

Ira quickly gathered herself after a few moments of shock and reached back for her phone that slipped out of her hand. “Jay, I just got into a car crash,” She said irritated. “Can you get Bodhi to come to collect the car and deal with insurance?”

“What? Are you ok-” Jay was interrupted by the sound of heavy knocking on the window. Thakur, now I have to deal with this, Ira thought agitatedly. [God]

“Jay, I’m fine. Just get Bodhi here quickly. Track my GPS.” Ira said as she got out of her car.

Ignoring the figure who stood nearby, Ira checked her car for damage. “O.M.G. You totally broke my headlights!”

“O.M.G. You totally ran a red light,” A high pitch-mocking tone answered back.

Ira turned around, hand on her hip, ready to respond with equal sass, but a single glance at the stranger had her words stuck in her throat.

A cold shadow was hovering over her frame. The man was tall and broad, every inch of his body was made of pure muscle. Dressed in a fitted white shirt, the top buttons were left unbuttoned, exposing the firm tan skin of his chest; his sleeves were rolled up, revealing thick arms that strained beneath white material. His hair was obsidian, his jaw was chiseled and sharp, sporting a neatly groomed beard. His features were rugged and mature.

Ira craned her neck to look up at him, the top of her head only reaching his chin. His striking eyes were cold and calculating, ones that seemed to read people to get what he wanted. Right now they were glaring at her.

Veer was immediately engulfed by vanilla and floral scent, a contrast to the spoiled and reckless brat he was looking at. He knew he was dealing with an affluent snob by her looks—the overdone rhinestone attire she was wearing, which hurt his eyes, especially hinted at it.

“Do you have any idea how to fucking drive?” Veer snapped, the pent-up rage and frustration so clear in his voice that Ira had to stop herself from taking a step back. “You ran a red light.”

Ira’s mouth hung open in shock for a second before she snapped it shut, clenching her jaw.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“Do not roll your eyes at me,” he warned. “And don’t give me that half-ass apology either. If you’re this incompetent, stay out of the road.”

“Do not talk to me like that,” Ira spat. “I already told you I’m sorry, what else do you want me to do? Get over it. Or don’t. I have places to be.”

Ira turned to get her purse and phone from her car, but she could only open the door an inch before it was slammed shut by a muscular, veiny forearm.

“Turn the fuck around.”

The air thickened with tension. Ira felt her stomach tighten at his demand but tried to ignore the unwarranted feeling.

Veer blocked the door with his arm and Ira felt the overwhelming presence of his body heat behind her. Something in his voice told her to yield.

As she turned around, she tossed her long hair over her shoulder, making sure it hit him across the face.

Ira crossed her arms smugly, as she stared up at him with dark, glittering eyes. Veer’s gaze flashed with an indiscernible emotion.

“Watch your words, little girl.” He said in a menacing tone. “There are safety measures we’re all expected to follow on the road for a reason. You could’ve killed someone.”

“Listen old man, I know your eyesight might be deteriorating with age so I’ll remind you that no one’s hurt and my car is the one with the most damage. And take some accountability. Neither one of our cars would’ve got hit if you were paying attention too-”

“It’s because I was paying attention you aren’t dead,” Veer sneered. “I wouldn’t expect someone as spoiled and irresponsible as you to understand the risks of running a red light—don’t they hire people to think for you?”

“You know what-” Ira held up her hands, “I can’t deal with this.”

She turns around and forcefully pulls open the car door. She gathers her belonging, including a stash of emergency cash left in the glove box. She faces Veer again.

“My people are on the way to deal with the insurance. But in the meantime, to compensate,” Ira snatches his hand, forcing the wads of cash onto it. “Here’s $5,000. If it’s not enough, ask my associate for more. Whatever gets you to shut up.”

Ira ducks back in her car for a split second before turning back around.

“And for an extra freebie,” She shoves the latest cover of Vogue to his chest. “Read this so you can learn who I am. You should be grateful, some people would die to have me hit their cars.” Ira said with an arrogant look.

She already knew that the big brooding man would go off on another lecture, so she quickly jutted out her hand to the streets and hailed a taxi. Ira looked back one final time and her face twisted into a satisfied smile, knowing she ended the conversation with the upper hand.

Veer watched the taxi drive away, left to fume silently on the side of the road.