When a worldwide pandemic breaks out, nineteen year old Zahara finds herself torn out from her usual carefree life and thrown amidst family politics. What was supposed to be a weekend family dinner in an isolated location soon turns out to be a ni...
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A tear slipped from Zahara Kothari's eyes as she sat quietly in the back seat of her Mom's black Sedan. Her hands gripped tightly around the edges of a wooden photo frame. It was too large to be sitting on her tiny lap yet the more she looked at it, the more she lost herself in the depths of sadness. It was a painting from her beloved grandfather. Using the corner of her handkerchief, she rubbed away the remaining spots of water from her face.
Even though time had passed, the feeling of loss was still there. Zahara's eyes softened as she ran her fingers along the smooth letters engraved sharply at the bottom of the frame. It read 'Arya Kothari's final piece'.
"Grandpa," Zahara sniffed and hugged the big frame by bringing it closer to her chest. However her emotional moment was cut short as soon as she noticed her parents approaching in the distance. In a swift motion both the front doors opened and a red jeep pulled up in front, followed by a series of other rides.
It was her grandfather's second death anniversary and as a tradition, the family was supposed to get together. All under a single roof, just for the weekend. And what was better than staying in her late grandfather's holiday home in the mountains, the famed Blackhouse.
Siddhart Kothari, Zahara's father, quickly put the car into ignition while her mother settled herself in the other seat. None of them even spared a look at Zahara. Their only daughter was crying and looked like a snotty mess in the back but all they cared about was about to reach their destination.
"That went longer than I thought," Zahara's mother, Jagruti, groaned as she pulled out a makeup kit from her brand new Chanel purse. She quickly touched up on her already beautiful face with not as much as even a line of wrinkle on it. Three rounds of plastic surgeries will do that to any person.
"Yes, if you weren't so busy shagging your boyfriend and the new director at the same time, then we might have made out sooner," Zahara's father tried hard not to scoff. He quickly checked the red Scorpio following them from the rear view mirror.
"As if you were any good with your wife," her lips curled up, "You know third time is a charm Sid."
"Shut up, Bitch!" Zahara's father spat. The intensity with which he glared, it was a miracle he was still driving straight. "You know, it was supposed to be just the three of us," he continued, "You just had to open your fucking big mouth and invite everyone."
"The more the merrier," Jagruti smiled, shaking off her husband's comments, "I never asked you to invite your wife, did I or you can't get it up unless that bitch is there."
Zahara sighed, realizing where the conversation was heading. Screw get-togethers, she decided to zone out her parents by pulling out her ipod. As her parents' heated conversation went on, Zahara felt nothing but pity for them.
After thirteen years of marriage and eight years of separation, Zahara's parents were a perfect example of a failed relationship. Everything wasn't bad in the beginning. They were like any normal family who were perfectly content with their lives. At least that's what Zahara thought or more like remembered when she was young.
It was only when she was twelve, she started noticing her Dad's late night appearances and the occasional visits of different men to her Mom's bedroom. By the time Zahara came of age to actually understand what was going on, her parents had split up. And even though Zahara stayed with her Mom and went to her Dad's on holidays, none of them ever bothered to look after their own daughter.
Instead they were busy with their fake lives swooning new partners. Much to Zahara's delight, the feeling was mutual. She didn't care either. While old memories kept popping up and disturbed her calm, Zahara decided to close her eyes and slid back in her seat as her parents got all over each other and not in a good way.
Lets hope I reach in one piece, she thought as she got swept away by Camilla Cabello's Senorita.
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The car suddenly came to a halt waking Zahara up. She peeked outside the window and much to her surprise the scenery outside had completely changed. The mundane scenario of city lights was replaced by patches of green field. Suddenly the earth looked flat where it met with the sky in a single line.
Zahara glanced at the big black gate in the distance. Following the path they were on, there was a narrow lane which went up instead of straight. Tall trees lined up on either side of the lane giving it the illusion of a forest road. Zahara felt all giddy inside. She had heard stories of the Blackhouse from her grandfather but never had the pleasure of visiting it.
As the car sped up to make the steep climb, the entire gate came into full view. It was larger than Zahara had anticipated. The ornate gate opened slowly letting their rides in one after another. Zahara expected the driveway to end but it went on and on and finally her father took a turn to the right.
That's when Zahara saw it. Black stone pillars, white marbled floor, small status everywhere, 'Blackhouse' was not any house painted black, it was like a huge mansion that stretched over an extensive plot. Its a fucking palace. Zahara's slightly brown eyes fell on the breathtaking beautiful garden which seemed to be twice the size of the building. There were mazes everywhere. As Zahara tried to take in everything, she found it hard to believe that such a place existed.
To think her grandfather was hiding such a gem from the rest of the family, Zahara was a bit disappointed. Everyone knew Arya Kothari had a secret home where he never allowed any family members, not even Zahara. Her grandfather went as far as to conceal the location so that no one could ever reach it. Even when the old man died, he kept the house outside his will.
It was Zahara's father who squeezed the address out from her grandfather's lawyers. Zahara could only imagine how much her father spent to appease those uptight men but by the look of awe on her parent's face, she knew every penny was worth it.
However as their car slowly reached the entry of the huge building, a familiar silver Bentley was already blocking their way. A sweat broke out on Zahara's face when she watched her parents.
"Looks like we have got company," Zahara's mother gave an uncanny smile which mirrored her father's expression. For the first time, Zahara felt like her parents were on the same page. Oh God! Zahara gulped as she sensed the calm before the storm.
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A/N: Hi there! I am Sky and welcome to the story. If you get confused anywhere with the characters or their names, feel free to ask me up!
More characters will be introduced in the upcoming chapters and I will soon draw a family tree, making it easier for everyone to understand who stands where.
Till then enjoy! Vote! Comment! Add my story and feel free to criticize so that I can develop this story into an even better one.
