Redemption of Royals (Royal #1: Book 3) | ✔

58

-• she's my wife •-

Taranya

In the darkest hours of the night, the last thing I imagined myself doing was to help my brother and husband remove the traces of a homicide I committed. My hands have been shaking from the moment I pulled the trigger. I have been hiding them from the men, but every time I saw the body, my heart had kicked up faster and faster inside my chest.

Manohar was a monster.

He deserved what happened to him, and yet I couldn't brush off the fact that I killed him. I killed someone. I took a life. I broke the law.

I shouldn't be feeling guilty at all.

But I can't help it.

Rudra and my brother are calm, there's no trace of fear on their faces, not a line of wrinkles on their foreheads. As if this is another day at work, repeating through the same steps in a rather monotonous way, waiting to return home and drink a glass of scotch before going to bed.

As Rudra uncaps the kerosene canister, standing over the dead body with the calmest expression on his face, I turn around and walk back inside the farmhouse. Virendra lifts his head when I approach him. I sit down next to him on the stairs and dig through my purse. Grabbing a bottle of water, I take a long sip.

"Can I have some?"

I tilt the bottle to his mouth. He chugs down more than half of the water.

Pulling away, I close the cap and stuff the bottle back inside my bag. "If you co-operate with the investigation and serve your time well, there's a chance you might get out on parole before your sentence is over. This is your first offense, at least first that is recognised in the court. Shourya will get you the best attorney. They'll focus on your clean record and gambling addiction. Confess, plead and you'll be charged with minimum 20 years imprisonment."

"And if they send me in for life imprisonment?" He asks softly.

I shake my head. "They won't. You've been living as a model citizen for the last fifty years. You've done charities, donated millions of dollars, built homes for less fortunate, all that you did for the sake of your image, will help you improve your image in the court. You were also drinking before the murder happened. Tell them your morals were compromised, and you regret what happened."

"Will my status help?"

I nod. "There's a chance your father might cut off all the connections with you once you admit to the crime. But Shourya will keep in touch. He'll pay for the attorneys and he'll make sure you get the lowest sentence possible."

"Okay," he sighs in defeat. "Tell me what should I do?"

I shift slightly to face him. He looks at me impassively, torn down by the fate I imposed on him. The guilt grows. I'm about to blame the murder I committed on someone else. He'll serve jail time on my behalf, he'll take the punishment that is supposed to be for me. My throat closes up. I touch the cross on my neck, and force a swallow. I shouldn't be wearing this. I shouldn't be remembering God after what I did. I don't deserve his mercy. I don't deserve to give any excuses or justifications.

"Tara?" He speaks up, and I blink, coming out of the daze.

"You received the request on the dark web. My brother has taken care of it. You don't know who asked you to kill him. You needed the money and he offered you. You accepted it in the heat of the moment. He transferred you the amount. Then you thought over more and regretted the decision. You tried to return it, he told you to keep it for twenty hours in case your mind changes. When you arrived here with Manohar, you were unsure. It's when you got drunk and he started to taunt you over your gambling addiction that you lost composure. Shourya will tell the court he usually keeps a licensed gun on him 24/7, and an extra in all the places he frequents to, like his offices, guesthouses, and the palace. He'll switch this gun with the one we used, so it looks like you didn't bring a gun on you, and used your son's instead. After you killed him, you were barely able to stand. It was when you woke up that you realised what you did. Panicked, you tried to cover up the murder, but the guilt of taking a life didn't let you sleep. That's the story. And that's what you'll keep repeating to the prosecutor." I tell him. "Zoya and my brother will help you practice so you don't make a mistake." He nods softly.