Fatal Alliances [✓]

38

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

6 MONTHS LATER

MALIA

"HOW'S YOUR NEW JOB GOING?"

My sister's question hung in the air like thick smoke and I batted my whispy lashes, curled with an illusion of a fox eye, deep in thought for a moment. The mirror in front of me blinked back at me, reflecting the vast majority of tall, twinkling skyscrapers that were stood behind. It was almost as if the view was a backdrop at a photography studio, blanketed by the setting sky —but it was all very much real.

"Mali?" Zara repeated for the fourth time.

"Yeah?" I mumbled.

"You're in the States, come visit me while you're still in New York." Zara pressed. "I know you say you're busy, but please come and see me when you have the chance. I'll pay for your ticket and take you shopping and feed you butter chicken."

"Tempting, but I can pay for my own ticket for the first time." I grinned to myself. "I'll take you shopping for a change, but I'll need that recipe for the butter chicken. A girl can only eat a certain amount of microwavable food before giving herself some serious digestion problems."

"Gross," Zara deadpanned. "These kids you're looking after then, their parents must be so rich, to have you travelling with them all the time. This new agency seems to have many perks, eh?"

"So rich, I'm like a rich sugar mama now, I even gifted Baba a nice watch for Navratri, although the old man complained that he'd rather I brought him a pair of socks to wear for the cold days ahead. I insisted, told him I've finally got a nice job that pays so well and he deserves it for always being there for us."

Zara laughed and snorted. "You know what he's like. He finds it hard to accept anything from us, even gifts."

"He accepted it eventually, because he'd had suspicions something else was going on with me and I was waltzing around just swinging on the arms of handsome billionaires." I grinned to myself while pulling on my knee-high suede boots, which fit me like gloves, hugging my calves as I stood up. "I'll call you later, I have to get going now, Zaz."

"Wait!" Zara called out, with a laugh. "You didn't tell me about aunt Nida."

"Oh right, she's trying to get Baba to sell his lands and to do that he's got to book a flight, which I've told him he's not allowed to do, because his diabetes is acting up lately." I frowned. "Who's going to take care of him once he's there? Certainly not those greedy cows he calls his sisters, not when they just want his property."

"Right." Zara murmured. "You're right. She's the one who spread your pictures around too. It's how everyone started drilling ideas into Baba's head about you leaving the nest to be some white mans whore —for lack of better words."