“With due respect, sir, I know you mean well. But if you’re here to offer me a job, then…”
Again, he didn’t let me finish.
“I’m not here to offer you a job, Deora. No! I’m here to offer you something much more valuable.”
“And what is that?” I asked sceptically.
“A chance at redemption,” he replied.
CHAPTER 3
MEHER
Shivina let out a low whistle and made big eyes at Isha and Diya.
“I’m sensing a bit of a history here,” she murmured, and the girls nodded in reply.
How the hell did we get on this topic? I had left all of this behind years ago. And still, the mere mention of his name took me straight back to the past. To the day when all my illusions about myself, my place in society, and Samrat’s love for me were shattered for good.
I straightened my spine and dragged myself back to the present. I wasn’t going to spend this weekend brooding over the past. Instead, I was going to build my future.
“Ladies, let’s leave the past where it belongs and focus on the future. It’s time to pop the bubbly,” I said with a smile that I dredged up from the bottom of my empty soul.
At a sign from me, the butler popped the champagne, and we cheered as he handed the glasses around.
“To new beginnings,” said Shivina.
We joined in the toast, but I couldn’t help wonder why it was that my past hounded me like a shadow. Why couldn’t I ever leave it behind? Was this how it was going to be for the rest of my life? Was everything I achieved going to be overshadowed by one episode that wasn’t even my fault?
Later that evening, after a beautiful safari where we spotted a family of jackals hanging out by a watering hole, and saw a leopard skulking in the bushes behind a herd of deer, patiently waiting to make the kill, we wound down on the roof of the palace, looking out at the city of Matta all lit up under us.
Matta Palace was built to be a fortress, so on a clear day, we could see all the way up to Jaipur from our vantage point. Tonight, all we could see was a sea of lights under us, and it looked magical.
“I didn’t know Matta city was laid out in grids,” said Shivina, with a soft sigh as she leaned over the edge of the terrace with a margarita in her hand.
“That was my grandfather’s doing,” I replied. “When we gave up our thrones and titles, my grandfather donated a large chunk of land to the city to widen the roads and lay it out in planned grids. He even paid for a German architect to work with the municipal corporation in planning the layouts.”
“It’s a gorgeous city, for sure. But you’re Meher Rathore, for fuck’s sake. You can’t keep yourself locked up in a medieval palace for the rest of your life,” exclaimed Diya.
“Why not? I’ve done it for the past eight years, and I’ve never been happier,” I replied.
She raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
“Really? You - the woman who struck fear into the hearts of bouncers everywhere when she walked into a club - are happy to be stuck in the middle of nowhere?”
“Yes,” I said bitterly. “Because that life wasn’t real! Not the clubbing, not the shopping, not the polo matches, not the pre-games, not the after-parties on yachts that drifted into international waters when we passed out after doing too many shots. None of it was real. But the life I’ve built here is finally real. It’s meaningful. And the best part is that nobody can snatch it away.”
“Sweetie, thereisno life here,” said Isha softly. “You’ve built yourself a lovely, green, eco-friendly prison. But that’s all it is.”
“No, Isha. I’ve built a business,” I retorted. “And I’m going to make it work.”
“But how? I know you want to turn this into a luxury hotel, but the whole heritage hotel schtick is dead. In this economy, very few people want to pay lakhs for one night in a palace. How are you going to sustain this venture?” asked Diya.
“I have an ace up my sleeve, babe. Matta is not only about a hotel stay. Our USP is our luxury safari. We have the country’s biggest leopard reserve in our backyard. And this isn’t your usual safari with jeeps full of people crowding the known spots and scaring off the animals. We own over half of this forest land, and I know every inch of it like the back of my hand. I’ve come up with immersive safari packages that would put the best of the Masai Mara to shame. Imagine waking up to a leopard sunning itself in your backyard. Or watching the sun set from your balcony with a cocktail in your hand and a herd of deer walking home past your cottage. Or sharing your morning bowl of fruit with a baby langur in your garden.”
“I draw the line at sharing my bathtub with a snake,” said Diya with a shudder.
“The snakes here are far less venomous than the ones that visit your store every day,” I retorted, and she grinned.
