Shramya sat clutching her forehead.
That Mirza guy had hit her hard indeed. And to think she had even admired him. That guy was the reason Karan was dead.
She would hate herself for this, but she managed a small smile as she recollected his personality. He was evil, but confidently so.
Yash sat on the sofa looking rather tired. He was using what was left of the ice for himself. That guy had been literally made of metal. His blows had landed like hammer shots.
It was no surprise that six policemen had to drag him away.
He looked at Shramya and smiled. He knew he was lucky to have such a strong and able minded partner by his side. If she could weather this storm, they could weather any storm now.
What had happened was sad, but it had made them stronger.
Yash's phone began to ring. An old tune filled the air for the umpteenth time. Yash glanced at Shramya with a half amused smile. But she looked lost and wasn't paying attention.
Yash picked up the phone.
"What's the password?" asked a voice.
Yash whispered, half scared, "Mirza?"
The voice seemed satisfied.
"Good. The deal will be executed and the money transferred. Thankyou."
"Wait, wha-" began Yash, but the phone had already disconnected.
Shramya finally seemed to come to her senses.
"Who was it?" she asked groggily.
Yash gave a long and hard look at her.
"No one. Wrong number."
Shramya shrugged and sighed. She looked beside her and found an old fairy tales book titled - Arabian Nights. A story of how a smart girl told 1001 stories to a monarch each night and left them incomplete to keep him in suspense, so that he does not kill her.
She casually opened the first page and started reading the first story.
Alibaba and the forty thieves.
