Maneet FF: Finally Found Ya, Epilogue (p102) Mar19,2015 - Page 51

You can't just stop there..

wow what a twist... lovely update

ohhh the evil lady is back ...thanx for the update

What a TWIST ... AWSOME dear really i never expected this.

just came across ur ff... really loved it...

waiting for aprt 24, but I didn't not expect her to be a murderer. A major twist but liking it for sure

I read your entire ff in one go

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Chapter 24: Abandon All Hope

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Geet stared at the floor, unable to move, to think, to breathe. She felt like she was drowning, and there was no one here to save her. Again. All eyes were on her, and she was in this . . . revealing sari. Everyone would see her scars. Her hand crept up in a futile effort to cover those scars.

She took a step back, the whispers growing around her, taking her under back to the hole of blackness she'd suffered in for far too long. Another step. And another. Escape was so near. Turning, she made her way to the door, unable to face the condemnation in the faces of the people around her. But she wouldn't run. No one would see her run!

The breath whooshed out of her when her body slammed into another's.

She closed her eyes, her lips trembling. It was him. She knew it . . . by his touch, his scent, his effect on her. It was Maan. Forcing her eyes down, she fixed her gaze on her feet. She could not look up . . . none of her pride . . . none of the courage that had brought her here today was left inside of her. She just wanted to leave. Geet pulled back and moved around him, continuing on to her escape.

He reached out and silently grabbed her arm. When her head jerked up in response, he shook his head at her, indicating that she could not get away that easily. Turning, he moved across the ballroom. Everything else was a blur, the faces . . . the crowd seeming to disappear, just like she had wanted it to disappear. She retreated into herself, her only anchor to sanity being her ability to close out the world around her.

They exited the ballroom. She said nothing when they reached the stairs and steadily went up. No one had stopped them. No one had dared to, not with the look that Maan Singh Khurana had on his face. Maan reached the top of the stairs, and pulled her into the first room they encountered. It was a storage room, dark and dank. When he shut the door behind them, they were left with only the moonlight streaming in to illuminate the darkened room.

Geet pulled her arm away from him and slowly moved away, her blank gaze moving over the dark environs of the room.

"Geet," he murmured, moving closer. His hand came out.

She stepped back.

"Geet!" he protested.

"Bhai!" a voice called out. "Bhai, where are you?" The voice faded as the individual moved off, as if unsure of where Maan actually was.

"Damn it," he muttered, angry at the interruption. "Why won't they leave me alone? I don't . . . "

"Bro, I really think you need to come out here," Dev's voice said from the other side of the door. "We need to do something about Sameera, and the crowd is getting antsy. I think it would be better if we sent everyone home."

Maan stared at Geet, his frustrated eyes taking in the tears that had begun to fall. Her expression was still glazed, as if she wasn't completely there. Reaching out a hand, he wiped those tears away. After a brief moment of indecision, he moved in, leaning his forehead against hers, taking comfort from that simple touch. She didn't back away, but he didn't even know if she realized that he was there. He wanted to stay, but the continuing knocks on the door were a deterrent.

She took a shaken breath when his brothers banged on the door once more. Her whole being began to vibrate with the emotions coursing through her body.

"Stay," he ordered. "I'll be back." Moving back, he cupped her cheek, gazing into her eyes. They were still glazed. "Stay." With one final glance at her, he turned and left her alone in the room. Stopping at the door, he reached out and flicked on a light, leaving it to fight the near darkness surrounding her. Exiting, he shut the door softly behind him.

Geet stood there, staring unseeingly into space. Slowly, as seconds turned into minutes, she began to return from that place deep inside of herself where she had retreated. She was awakening bit by bit. Slowly . . . so slowly . . . she turned her head, her eyes beginning to move over the room itself. Her heart began to calm. She even found herself breathing a bit more easily. And then the rest of her body began to thaw from the horror that had held her frozen for so long.

Her eyes hesitantly moved over the room, taking in the cobwebs that covered every corner. Her brow crinkled in confusion . . . this room looked oddly familiar. Wasn't this the room she had hidden in when trying to keep away from Maan?

She paused for a moment. Maan. Where was Maan?

She shivered slightly, her skin chilled by the cool air in the room. Multiple windows were spaced throughout the room, allowing in moonlight, along with the cold air. The slanted moonlight concealed more than it revealed, and a light bulb illuminated a small corner of the room. That light, coupled with the moonlight, was enough for her to see the objects filling that room.

She looked around, searching the room carefully, but it was completely empty. Had Maan just left her here? Why? Her heart clenched as a thought sparked in her mind. Had she been left here to be forgotten, just like all of these other items in the room?

She turned her head slightly, upon hearing the soft flap of wings. Her eyes widened when she realized there were pigeons in here with her. She moved deeper into the room. An old rocking chair. A bed frame leaning against the wall. Meandering to the left, she saw sheets covering weirdly shaped items. Old furniture that the family could not bear to throw away, perhaps? A small tricycle. Had Maan ridden this as a child? Further on, a folding screen.

She turned her eyes away, facing the wall and saw them. Pictures. Geet moved closer, wanting to investigate this glimpse into Maan's past. Geet knew that she was using these objects and pictures to distract herself, but she couldn't force her mind to focus on those more important things. She didn't even want to focus on the question that was still circling through her mind . . . where was Maan?

There was a picture of a distinguished couple. Could these be Maan's parents? The man looked arrogant, and the woman looked extremely fragile. There was a picture of a young girl. Her features looked extremely familiar. She had seen those features before on more masculine faces. Geet leaned closer, intrigued. Could this be Annie? Pictures of a much younger Vicky . . . of Dev. Pictures of a lighthearted Dadi Ma. There were family pictures . . . of celebrations . . . graduations. Conspicuously absent were any pictures of Maan.

Geet moved closer and stumbled against a table. Her eyes arrowed down to see the table covered with trinkets, small boxes and books. Uninterested, she turned back to the wall, but something tugged at her senses. Looking back down at the table, she saw a picture frame, face down. Picking it up, she turned it over slowly, trepidation growing in her heart.

It was a picture of Maan . . . a Maan that she had never had the chance to see in real life. He was smiling so joyfully. Her heart clenched when she saw how young and hopeful he looked. It was clearly a picture of before . . . before everything. His experiences had taken that hope away. The scandals and betrayals had taken the smile away. She touched the picture lovingly, but her hand fell away with the realization that the man in that picture was gone.

Today . . . some of those wrinkles had been caused by her scandal. Her hiding her past had been a betrayal. Tears began to fall with a vengeance. Could she stand to see the love in his eyes turn to hate when he had to live every single day with the scandal she had brought into his life? Could she live with him happily, knowing the burden she had placed on his shoulders?

She turned away from the picture, putting it back on the table with a snap, unable to look into his eyes any longer. Glancing down, her gaze chanced upon a small box, lying open. A shudder ran through her body, but her heart finally came to the conclusion that her mind had already reached while she was in that state of frozen agony.

She took the engagement ring off her finger and placed it in that box, her breath coming in tortured gasps as she forced her fingers to let the ring go. Agony was coursing through her body, as she stepped back from his picture . . . from his ring. It was time for her to go. She did not belong in this home. She could not be a part of Maan's life when it would mean hurting him even more.

"Why didn't I realize that for you and I ...," she murmured, looking at his smiling face once more, "there could never have been an us?" It was better for her to be forgotten. This room was here to house his old memories. This is where memories and any traces of her belonged.

Stealing out the door, she moved down the steps, making her way to the back entrance of the mansion. She could not bear to see anyone. They would try to stop her. They would try to pretend it was okay, but she knew it wasn't. Maan had gone through enough pain in his life. He didn't have to suffer any longer, even if he mistakenly thought their love would be enough. Before she knew it, her steps had taken her to the back door and she was opening it for the last time. She froze on the top step, her eyes glued to the man waiting for her at the foot of those steps.

Vicky.

Taking a deep breath, she began to move down the steps, her gaze looking away from him.

"I knew you would do something like this," Vicky finally said, stepping away from the wall he had been leaning against. "What are you doing? What happened to the promise you just made in there to me?" he asked, pointing over her shoulder at the ballroom. "I told you that bhai wouldn't be grateful if you did something like this!" He reached out and grabbed her arm, stopping her from leaving.

"How can you ask me that?" Geet ground out. Her hands curled into fists. "Do you want me to stay here? After that truth came out? You saw the looks on your guests' faces. They were horrified. How can you even think that I would be so shameless to stay after seeing that?"

"But you came here with that past, didn't you?" Vicky argued. "Obviously you were thinking something when you came here. If you trusted bhai enough to reveal your truth, what's changed now? What made you lose your courage, Geet?"

"When I came here, your brother would have known the truth, not the entire world! What I thought and what I saw in there were two different things! Reality was much bitterer than I hoped!" Geet shouted back at him, finally yanking her arm away. She put a little distance between them, hoping that it would help him to calm down.

"Do you think reporters would have left you alone once it came out that you were Maan Singh Khurana's fiance? Your past would have come out. People would have investigated you! Your every secret would have been revealed to the world. You had to have known that," he argued, seeing her face blanch. "Stay," he urged her. "Stay and fight for your love. Stay and fight for my brother. Let him know that he's worth that effort! No one has done that before," he ground out in frustration.

"Do you want your brother linked to a murderer, especially when the Khurana name has garnered him notoriety all these years? His father was an adulterer. His siblings were illegitimate bas***ds. His wife a . . . ," Geet trailed off, unable to even say the word. "And now his fiance . . . his wife a murderer? How can I bring him even more pain?" Her voice broke on the last words.

"Maan bhai doesn't care about that," Vicky shot back, advancing on her angrily. "He loves you. Even a blind person can see how much he loves you. Why can't you?"

"I guess . . . I'm blind," Geet finally responded bleakly. "I don't deserve to see his love. I don't deserve his love." She was tired. She had spent last night mustering up her courage to come here and had been so close to telling him. But that was before she faced the reality of what him being with her . . . of her being with him would really mean.

There were a few beats of silence as the two grappled with reality, and thought of what to say next to convince the other.

"We only met recently," he finally said hoarsely, "But I thought I knew you. I never thought that you would have such a . . . defeatist attitude." He swallowed. "Were you always such a coward?"

She stared at Vicky. "Do you realize that the mere fact that I was your brother's fiance for those five minutes, I lost everything? Someone thought it was okay to reveal my past like that . . . in such an ugly way. Just because I was in a relationship with him for five minutes, someone thought it was okay to strip me bare in front of the world! Do you realize," she ground out, her hands going up to grab at her hair in frustration, "that I just . . . lost the life I had spent the past few years dreaming about? The life that I was so close to achieving? Did I deserve that?" she asked.

Vicky fell back at those words.

Geet gazed at him sadly, her lips trembling with the emotion tearing away at her. "I just need to think about this. I need to deal with the fact that my world just imploded around me." Gazing at him one more time, she turned and walked away. After all, what was left to say?

"Geet?" he called out from behind her.

Geet stopped, but did not turn around. She could not face him one more time.

"You're not coming back, are you?"

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Aapka humsafar aapki zindagi mein aaj hi aane wala hai . . . yeh lo taveez. Isse usse pehna dena, phir dekhna. Babaji ki mehar aap dono par hamesha rahe gi."

(Your lifemate is coming into your life today. Here, take this taveez. Have him wear it. Then you'll see. God's benevolence will always be with the both of you.)

Geet stared down at the taveez in her hand, her heart lifting in joy at the fortuneteller's word. Could she believe in this fortune? Her hands curled around the taveez, not wanting to let it go. She wanted to believe so badly.

"Do you think it will come true, Dolly Bhabi?" she asked, looking up with a smile. Her brow wrinkled in confusion. Where was Dolly Bhabi? "Rajji? Titu? Ma?' She looked around, her frantic gaze moving over the emptying fair ground. Where had everyone gone? Moving quickly through the area, almost running now, she made her way to the gates. "Have you seen my family? Do you know where Papa Ji might have gone?" she asked acquaintances, but all shook their head in negation.

Geet stood there in an agony of indecision. Should she wait here or should she make her way home? Home wasn't too far away, and if Brij Veer Ji found out that she was out alone, he would be so angry. Her heart began pounding in fear, knowing that it would be much more dangerous to stay here to be found than to find her own way home.

Geet took a step forward, and then stopped. The crowd was thinning, and she did not want to attract attention to herself. She carefully draped her dupatta around herself, securing it to cover her head and upper torso carefully so that only her eyes showed. Moving quickly, she began to make her way towards home. As she reached the edge of the festival grounds, her body glanced off of someone else, falling back from the impact. Geet gasped in fear and quickly apologized for her clumsiness.

"What have we here?" a male voice asked lazily.

Geet looked up and saw the smirk on the face of the man standing in front of her.

"Excuse me," she said softly, moving to the left.

The man mirrored her movement, blocking her path once more.

"Excuse me," she repeated, moving the other way, but had the same result. "Please," she said disjointedly, "I need to go home."

"Why don't you spend some time with me?" he asked. "With me and my friends. We'll enjoy it. And I assure you, you'll enjoy it, too." He reached out a hand to grab her.

Geet stepped back and looked at the four men advancing toward her.

"No! Leave me alone. Someone, please help me!" she shouted, attracting the attention of some of the bystanders. As the crowd looked at them with curiosity, some good Samaritans even moving forward to help, Geet took off running across the road. Her breath falling in short gasps, her lungs aching from the exercise, she struggled to keep running. She could see hear the footsteps of those animals behind her in hot pursuit.

"Please," she murmured, looking over her shoulder in worry. "Please, Baba Ji, save me." Her distracted gaze failed to see the vehicle in front of her. She heard the screech of tires, and then gasped, the air expelled from her body from the impact.

Geet fell to the ground, struggling to breathe as pain coursed through her body. But even this pain was nothing compared to some of the beatings she had received from Brij Veer Ji. At least the car had tried to stop, she thought fuzzily, remembering the screech of tires. Getting up quickly, with the help of a pair of hands, she shook the pain off. She shook her head, hoping that it would clear it. "That wasn't a good idea," she muttered, breathing deeply to fight the nausea that was welling up.

Looking over her shoulder, her dazed gaze saw the men chasing her had melted into the crowd. At least something good had come out of this accident. She took a deep breath, the sharpness of the pain fading just enough for her become a little bit more centered in herself. The nausea faded and she was able to stand up straight. Turning, she began to walk quickly towards home.

"Wait! Are you okay?" a voice called out from behind her.

Geet turned her head towards the voice, but before she could catch sight of the voice's owner behind her, she felt herself roughly grabbed by the arm. She cried out in pain and alarm, wondering if those men had returned.

"What are you doing here?" Brij Veer Ji's voice roared at her, jerking her around to face him. "How dare you be out here alone?"

Geet's eyes widened in panic, realizing her brother had come to get her, and he was furious. He began to drag her along, his quick steps causing her to stumble at times.

Someone stopped them, daring to grab on to her brother's arm. No one dared to do that in Hoshiarpur. "Where are you taking her?"

"What do you think you're doing here?!" Brij shouted at the male, turning to glare at him. "Just leave from here quietly."

"I just hit her with my car," the man said, unfazed by the anger directed at him. "At least let me see if she is okay," he said.

Geet flinched as her brother's hand tightened around her arm, knowing that she would have another bruise there in the morning.

"Oy, I told you . . . just leave here quietly or you might just lose more than you bargained for in your aim to be a hero," Brij spat at the man. "This is my sister. And this," he said, shaking off the man's constraining grip, "Is none of your business." Brij dragged Geet away.

Geet closed her eyes, knowing that not even prayer would save her now.

Those bruises had been nothing compared to what had been waiting for her at home. Not only had she faced Brij Veer Ji's anger, she had to suffer her grandfather's anger. And then the fire . . . That heartless man hadn't even seen the bruises already there. He hadn't considered that she was already punished enough for her inattention. But the scars that he had left on her body that day . . . were nothing compared to the scars he had left on her soul.

Geet stared at the walls of the Handa haveli. She was back. It hurt her heart to realize that when her world had started falling down around her, her only thought had been to come to the place where she had been so unhappy. It seemed like a lifetime since she was last here in Hoshiarpur. Tears began to trickle down her cheeks, as she accepted that truth. She didn't belong in the world out there. Not when she was a killer.

Her eyes moved over the walls of her old home. There were pictures of the family here, echoes of a past that still had the power to hurt her. The prideful Brij Veer Ji, who was so careful of that pride. He was standing next to Dolly Bhabi, unsmiling. Her Daar Ji, the man that had allowed and even encouraged Brij to become the monster he was. Her Uncle and Aunt, Brij Veer Ji's, Rajji's and Titu's parents. At least they were smiling. There was Rajji, young and so innocent. And brave Titu, standing up with the help of his braces. Despite the abuse and bullying he had suffered at his schoolmates' hands, and even Brij Veer Ji's hands, he had always remained a kind, compassionate individual. And there was a picture of her Ma and Papa Ji standing with her.

Turning away, the memories hurting too much, she looked at the dust and cobwebs that covered every surface, save a few. Pammi bhabi and Lucky bhai had made some headway in cleaning, but it was a huge task for just two people. But maybe this was how it was supposed to be . . . living in an old, dusty haveli, surrounded by the bitter memories of the past. Everything had been closed up when they left here, and maybe she deserved to be closed up along with it.

A hand fell on her shoulder, squeezing it in sympathy. "Geet, please, stop crying," Pammi bhabi said. Geet turned to look at her sister-in-law. "Here, eat something," Pammi urged. "Lucky went and got us some supplies, and I made this food for you to eat."

Geet just shook her head silently, knowing that nothing would get past the lump in her throat. She patted the hand in gratitude, comforted that these two had come with her. When she had raced home, her only thought of escape, they hadn't questioned twice why she needed to leave. Pammi Bhabi had asserted that she would be coming along, and Lucky had silently nodded in agreement. Her parents had only ever wanted her peace of mind. They hadn't stood in her way, either.

"Thank you," she murmured, those words being the only thing she could eke out before her throat closed up again. She got up, and began to walk out of the room, but fell against a side table, knocking everything down from it. Kneeling down, she began to pick up the papers, yellowed with old age. Her robotic movements stilled when she saw the content. Newspaper articles about the events of six years ago. Stories about girls missing. She gasped softly when she saw the next article . . . an article about Channi disappearing. Her fingers traced the features of the lovely young girl, who had been such a close and dear friend.

"I'm not going back, Geet! I'm not going back. That man . . . it's disgusting. Do you have any idea . . .? if I have to go back, I will kill myself!" Rajji shouted, backing away from Geet.

Geet's eyes widened in disbelief, seeing the broken girl standing in front of her. Rajji had been married for two years, but they had rarely had the chance to see the girl. Every time the family went to her in-laws' home, no one was allowed to meet with Rajji. Rajji was sick. Rajji had gone out for the day. Rajji was busy with some other matters. But none of it had been true, had it? The excuses had been many, and the male folk in their family had never pushed.

Rajji had run away. Her younger cousin, innocent no longer, clutched at Geet in desperation. "Help me!" she cried out. "Please don't make me go back." The fear was very real in Rajji's eyes. The desperation . . . the disgust. Rajji had lost weight. Gone was the carefree, bubbly girl that had been Geet's close companion. In her place was a hollow shell, who trembled at the mere idea of being forced to go back to her husband.

"I won't, Rajji," Geet said quickly, hugging her close. "I won't. I promise. How could you come alone so far?" she asked worriedly. "You know that girls have gone missing. What if something had happened to you?"

"It wouldn't have been worse than what I'm facing every day," Rajji responded heavily.

"Rajji let me take that gun." Geet had quickly grabbed the weapon, putting it aside so that she could hug the young, shaking girl in comfort. "Why do you even have a gun? When did my little Rajji become a hunter?"

Rajji had laughed, albeit a short watery laugh in the midst of her tears. It had probably been her first laugh in years.

If only she hadn't . . . Not knowing any better, Geet had taken Rajji to the purani haveli (old mansion). It was just burnt walls, no roof, barely any shelter for the young girl who needed to escape. Geet had thought that she could keep Rajji safe until they could find some permanent solution. She hadn't even thought for a moment to share the truth with her family. She had known by then, that no one would go against Daar Ji and Brij. And they would never let anything happen to their reputation.

Before any plans could be made, Brij found them. It hadn't taken her long to realize once the truth came out, that she had taken Rajji to their hideout. To a serial killer's lair.

"Rajji, you have to eat," Geet urged her younger cousin. "You need to take care of your health."

"Why?" Rajji retorted. "Why do I need to take care of myself? For what? To go back to that house? To that cage? I don't want to go back! I can't go back, Geet didi," Rajji said through gritted teeth.

"I won't let them take you," Geet said, "I promise."

"And what will you do about it?" a voice roared from behind them.

The two girls jerked around in fear, their eyes widening upon seeing the man standing behind them.

"How dare you leave your home without permission?!" he shouted, moving towards them. "Your in-laws called us today, saying that Rajji had run away." He glared at Rajji as he said those words. "How dare you bring shame to our family?"

"Your shame? Your honor?" Rajji cried out. "What about me?"

"You are nothing!" he shouted back, advancing on them. "Nothing but a stain on our honor by the mere fact that you were born a female. How dare you even thinking of tainting the Handa name by running away from your husband?! And you," he said, glaring at Geet, "How dare you betray your family like this?"

The two girls began to back away, afraid of the furious light in his eyes. He began to approach the two, his hand going to the back of his neck to rub it as he moved his head from side to side, a familiar sign of his growing anger.

"I'm not going back!" Rajji shouted at him. "Do you know how horrible it was living in that household?"

"You are going back," he shouted at her. "You will not be allowed to bring scandal on our family's name! Do you have any idea what your leaving your husband will do to the Handa name? It is a name to be revered here in Hoshiarpur. I will not allow a sniveling, perfidious girl ruin our legacy."

"I am not going back," Rajji reiterated. "Nothing you say will make me change my mind. You take me back, and I will run away again. They can make me stay there for how long? One day . . . two days? There will come a time when their guards will tire . . . where they will stop keeping an eye on me. And then I'll run. I don't care about the Handa name! I care about me. Why should I have to sacrifice myself because you gave your word? Nothing you do will make me stay!"

"Nothing?" he asked softly, his eyes flickering to the left.

"Nothing," Rajji repeated, backing away. Geet's hand clutched at her, urging her to remain silent.

The girls jumped when he laughed harshly and began to move away. Their eyes followed him as he advanced to the fireplace and pulled down the sword hanging above the mantle.

"What-what are you doing?" Geet gasped, her eyes glued to the sword now clutched in Brij Veer Ji's hand.

"If she won't go back," he said grimly, "Then there's no reason for her to live. Why should she be allowed to live when her mere existence will be a taint on the Handa name? She will not ruin us!" He began to advance toward them, his murderous intent now clear.

"Brij Veer Ji, how can you say that?" Geet asked, pulling Rajji back when Brij swung out with the sword. She flinched at the resolve in his eyes. Rajji began to whimper in fear.

"If your life was so precious to you," he muttered, "Then you should've taken care of our reputation. There is only one punishment for the person who plays with our name . . . and that is death," he screamed, swinging the sword once more.

Geet and Rajji screeched in fear, backing away from him. Their eyes were glued to the swinging sword. "You can't do this! We're your sisters," Geet shouted."How can you do this to your own sister? She is the sister who learned how to walk while holding onto your finger."

"And that's the sad thing," he shouted back, continuing to advance towards them. "Instead of teaching you how to walk, I should've killed you at birth. If I had done that, then my family's reputation wouldn't be at stake."

"What reputation? That empty reputation . . . you're protecting it by killing your sister? Don't do it," Geet urged him, pushing Rajji behind her. "You can't do it. Baba Ji will never forgive you!"

"Enough!" he shouted, swinging out. This time he was lucky, and the sword sliced across Geet's arm. Geet fell to the floor, clutching at the bleeding wound. But she wasn't his main target. Brij Veer Ji stepped over her and moved towards Rajji. Rajji fell back, her eyes glazed in shock.

Geet staggered up, her tear-filled eyes focused on the horrific scenario in front of her. "No," she whispered, looking around desperately for something . . . anything to stop this from happening. She needed to save Rajji. She needed to save her sister. Her frantic gaze landed on the gun Rajji had brought with her.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"I brought it to protect myself," Rajji had confided, as she drank water from the glass that Geet held to her lips."I walked here all night, Geet. What if someone had seen me and tried to take advantage? We heard about the girls going missing around here. My husband keeps this in his cabinet." Her gaze grew haunted, as her mind recalled darker memories. "He would point it at me sometimes to scare me. And he shot it at the wall, so that I could see that it was loaded," she blurted out.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

This rifle, which had been used to terrify Rajji, would now protect her sister. Picking it up, she called out, "Stop, Brij Veer Ji! I'm telling you to stop," she cried out, her grip shaky around the weapon. But his arrogance was so great, that the man didn't even bother to look back. He continued his advance toward Rajji, who had fallen to the floor, a keening noise beginning to erupt from her mouth.

Geet pointed the gun up in the air and pressed the trigger. She staggered from the recoil of the weapon as it went off.

Brij turned around, his astounded gaze falling on Geet and the gun. "What do you think you're doing?" he barked at her. "Put it down."

"You need to leave," she told him, wiping the tears from her eyes. "You need to leave and don't come back."

"You're not going to shoot me," he said confidently, turning back to look at Rajji at his feet. "You don't have the courage." Raising his sword, he swung downward, his intent clear. Rajji screamed in fear, raising her hands over her head in a futile effort to protect herself.

Geet raised the gun once more, frantic, and shot it at him. The bullet went through his shoulder, causing him to whirl around from the force of impact.

"You dare to shoot me?" he roared at her, one hand clutching at his shoulder. The wound had begun to bleed. Geet shuddered at the sight of the red blood. Geet began to back away from the ruthless light in his eyes.

"You will pay for this," he said softly, moving towards her, his hand still clutching the sword.

Geet knew that he meant it. He would come for her, and when he was done with her, it would be Rajji's turn. "Brij veerji! You can't! If you don't stop . . . " Geet cried out, a desperate hope still left in her heart. He couldn't mean to continue, could he? He wouldn't hurt his own sisters. What man was capable of doing that?

Rajji came up behind him, afraid but so brave, and clutched at him. Her body was weak, and she had zero success in stopping him. Reaching back, he used his injured arm to brutally push her away. The force was so strong, that she crashed against one of the ruined walls, bashing her head against it. It knocked her unconscious.

"Just quietly face your death," he ordered Geet, swinging the sword experimentally as he came toward her.

She moved back, her heart clenching at what she had to. With a small shriek, she stumbled over something ... and began to fall. She heard his diabolical laughter as she fell, its timber taking on the intonation of pure evil. Without meaning to, her finger pressed the trigger and there was the sound of the gun going off . . . and then the silence after his laughter was cut off.

Trembling, she got up and looked over at the . . . she swallowed . . . it was no longer her brother. It was no longer the man that had tried to kill her moments ago. It was no longer the monster that had abused her for years. It was only a . . . she tilted her head, her eyes focused on the damage that the bullet had done to him . . . it was just a body now. He wasn't moving. And she knew he was dead because no human being could survive after the damage he had suffered.

She began to cry, softly keening at what had just happened. Her eyes moved toward Rajji. She was lying there, her forehead bloody from the impact against the wall. Geet threw the gun to the side and walked to Rajji, and she pulled her head onto her lap. Cradling her, she began to rock back and forth.

"What's going on here?!"

People had come running after hearing the sounds of the gunshots. First it had been the neighboring men, curious about the sounds. When they had seen the dead body on the floor and the young, bloodied girls, they had called the police. Everything had remained untouched. The sword remained in Brij Veer Ji's hand. The gun next to Geet, lying on the floor.

When the police came, they were quick to put her in jail. Even with Rajji yelling about Geet saving the two of them, Geet had stayed imprisoned in that cage for weeks while the police did their investigation.

And then the truth had come out. The old haveli was covered with DNA evidence of all the kills Brij and his gang had committed against innocent girls and even men of the area. They had killed anyone they suspected of hurting the Hoshiarpur family's reputations. And enough people had bought into this . . . hidden their reality, that they had gotten away with this for years.

Geet sobbed softly, remembering the past. They had found evidence that Brij and his group had killed Channi, her best friend. Gurvinder, the man who had so innocently loved Channi and only wanted to marry her. Komal. Zeenat. All the young girls of Hoshiarpur and the surrounding areas that had disappeared . . . the police found evidence of their murder at the old haveli. The weapons, mostly swords and knives, hidden there were enough not only to gain Geet her freedom, but also to catch all of Brij Veer Ji's co-conspirators.

When the truth came out about Brij Veer Ji's serial killer proclivities, the Handa name was dragged through the mud. Daar Ji couldn't handle it and had suffered a heart attack and died within days.

Geet had been released. When she came out of jail, she saw immediately that people had begun to see her in a different way. Some lauded her as a hero. Channi's mother had been so grateful. She'd seen the hero worship in the eyes of others. But there others who saw her as a killer, regardless of who it was that she had killed. Regardless of the fact that it had been for self-defense.

Notoriety followed her everywhere. Newspapers wouldn't stop writing about her, nor her family. Reporters wouldn't stop coming to their home, demanding stories to put in those articles. She'd stopped going out, unable to bear the judgmental eyes of the world on her. It was easier to stay at home until . . .

Until she realized that Brij Veer Ji's parents, her own uncle and aunt, could not forgive her. It had taken her time to realize that for them, no matter how bad the child, he had been theirs. She had killed their child, and they remained bitter about that. And she realized that she could not even move freely around her own home.

Her parents, seeing their world fall apart around them, could only focus on their broken daughter. Geet remained in her darkened room, paralyzed by the horror she had gone through. Seeing that, they had finally made a decision. The family had decided to divide the property. They had sold off all the businesses and the lands, keeping only the haveli. That, they left closed up, unable to lose that final connection to Hoshiarpur. Geet's family had left, deciding to never look back.

It had taken Geet years to get out of the depression she had fallen into. No matter how evil someone was, murder was still murder. That act had stained her soul with a mark that she could not wash off. She had taken the life of another human being, and that thought had kept her under. Then Rajji's letter had come to her. Rajji was studying again. Her parents were letting her. She was going to be an advocate for women of domestic violence.

And Geet had seen a ray of hope. If Rajji could get through this, then what right did Geet have to be a coward? She was going to be strong, as well. She wanted to teach. She wanted to work with innocent young minds, and nurture their innocence as no one had nurtured her. She had spent the last couple of years of studying intensely, focusing on completing her studies so that she could begin a new life.

She stared at walls of the haveli once more. She thought that she had turned her back on all of this. But now . . . the future had been taken away from her. She could never be a teacher now. What was once only news in a small town paper, would now be news in all of India when it came out that the Khurana heir was engaged to a murderer named Geet Handa. Her notorious name, with its scandalous history, would bring scandal to the Khuranas once more.

Geet entered her old room, turning the lights off. She went and sat in the corner, closing her eyes and resting her head against the wall. Maybe she deserved to live here. In the shadows. Wasn't that her family's legacy now? A family of killers deserved to be dead or locked away in a cage.

She would pick her own prison this time around.

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Chapter 25

A/N: Chapter 24 updated for your reading pleasure. Admittedly, this was a really hard chapter to write, but I hope you got what I was going for. I have tried to use some of the dialogues from the drama again. See if you can recognize them. Let me know what you all think! 😆

poor geet suffering so much left maan