Saints and Sinners_A SanDhir Story of Love ♡ #Wattys2015

"Saints and Sinners"_Part 2☆

Her Iphone buzzed at this odd hour, waking her up from this tedious slumber, and she grabbed it to her ear.

"Can I talk to Ms. Agarwal?", a hoarse voice

grabbed her attention.

"Yes. Speaking.", she chipped back, massaging her arms to get rid of the cramp she was facing.

"I know you talk business. And if you want the Dehli deal at any cost, you got to apologise to Mr. Ramsay for your horrendous behaviour.", the hoarse voice that side, angered her veins.

"Once and for all, let me make this crystal clear.that Sanyukta Agarwal never, I repeat NEVER bows down before anyone. I have fucking better jobs than your Delhi deal. Keep that to yourself, Mr. Ramsay's official Spoon.", she let out a coarse laugh, enhancing each word.

And the line turned dead at once.

She glanced back at the clock.

It was already midnight and she has been locked in this room, since a few hours now.

Dehydrated out of lack of water, the thought of dialing Caroline, her secretary's number, crossed her mind, only to be discarded by her petite business mind.

Caroline, the dumb blonde that she was, would probably go begging around to Ramsay to unlock the door, and Sanyukta preferred being cursed to death than bow down infront of anyone.

Swiping through her mobile contacts, she got no chance to pause at any decent number, and that somehow made her realise again, how much alone she was.

Grasping her purse, she traced till the door, and tried jerking it a little.

Though she knew it was going to be quite futile, she couldn't stop herself from doing so.

Who knew that jerking a wooden door, would probably give her a clue?

Wrenching the knob time and again, and jerking the door a myriad times, her ears welcomed a tingling sound from the other side of the door.

Finding the entire scenario quite unplausible, she jerked the door again to see if her guesses were correct, and she mentally stabbed herself twice as her doubts got cleared.

The tingling noise infused life and a smirk into her system quite casually.

The devil of a Ramsay had left the key into the keyhole the other side.

SmartAss!

Rummaging through her mighty brains, she negotiated with herself if calling someone to her help might be successful or not, deciding it in the negative.

Pacing through the entire length of the suite, she tried to grab hold of a decent way to leave the room, and then peril struck, that is, her brain formed a clue.

She suddenly seemed to recall a point learnt by her during her childhood from an Enid Blyton story, and instantly her eyes traced the beneath of the wooden door.

There was no carpet lining the below of the door, and she happily chalked out her escape.

Grasping a newspaper from the side-table, she adjusted it beneath the door, half on the other side.

Her phone buzzed suddenly with a message.

"Where are you, Maam?"

Caroline's message infuriated her already tired senses, ans she wondered for what was she even paying that blonde, if not for her dumbness.

Pulling out a narrow hairpin from her mahogany locks, she smirked.

She pushed it onto the lock, and kept jerking it, until she heard the gentle heaving of the key on the carefully adjusted newspaper.

Elated at herself, she gently pulled the newspaper to her side of the door.

Kissing her hard-earned keys, she danced a

little with exuberant humour.

Finally leaving the room with her possessions, she aimed down the lift to the parking lot, when her phone buzzed again, flashing the caller ID of Raavan Ramsay.

"I am surprised that your mighty brains took so much leisure to grasp in the clue. Aren't you greasing your brains regularly these days, Miss Agarwal?", Ramsay's cold voice chilled her veins.

"Where's your nose, Mr.? Oh, it's here. Right In My Business. Isn't it?", she quipped back with vexation.

Disconnecting the line, she fumed and walked over to the parking lot.

******************************

Placing a Dominos order, he kept down the

receiver.

It has been a whole day, he has been living

without a proper meal, and his stomach

contracted in pain.

Shuffling through the news channel, he sipped the coffee, while his pitiable condition made him rethink over his life.

Puffing the cigarette, he scrolled to the balcony and savoured the smittening aura of a glamorous night in Mumbai.

Clutching the railing, he let those saline drops trickle down.

It was getting impossible now to conceal the pain.

He should have gone clubbing with Parth to stay distracted, at least.

But he was too tired to fight anymore.

Grabbing a photoframe and looking at the

beguiling stars, he heard himself mumble,

"I miss you, Mom."

Until Next Time.
Signing off,
Aishi ♡☆