New York City
The contact lenses were really hurting Esha. They were hurting her eyes a lot. It felt like there was sand in her eyes. It felt like little pieces of glass were in her eyes. Esha wanted to take them out. She really wanted to take them out and rub her eyes until they stopped hurting.
But Esha could not take them out. If Esha took them out, she would not be Anya. Anya had dark eyes. Anya had eyes that looked like black coffee. Esha had eyes that were brown like honey. Esha had kind eyes. Anya did not have kind eyes. Anya had mean eyes.
So Esha sat there. She sat at the vanity table. She blinked. Every time she blinked it hurt. The pain was good though. The pain reminded Esha that this was a job. This was not real life. This was a play and she was the actor.
"You are slouching" a voice said. The voice was scratchy. It sounded like old paper being torn.
Esha sat up straight. She did it fast. It was a habit. Since she was a little girl her father told her to sit up straight. Esha always listened to her father. Esha was a good daughter. Anya was not a good daughter. Anya was a boss.
Esha looked in the mirror. She saw her father in the reflection. Vijay Roy was sitting in his wheelchair. The wheelchair was in the corner of the room. The room was dark. The curtains were closed. It smelled like medicine in the room. It smelled like old tea and sickness. Vijay Roy smelled like sickness too.
"My eyes hurt Papa" Esha said. Her voice sounded different. She was practicing the voice. The voice was lower. It was not Esha's voice. It was Anya's voice. Anya's voice was cold. It sounded like she was bored.
"Pain is a teacher" Vijay said. He moved his wheelchair closer. The wheels made a humming sound on the carpet. "Zaviyar Khan hurt us more than your eyes hurt. You have to remember that Esha. When your eyes hurt you have to think about Zaviyar Khan. You have to think about what he did to our family."
Esha picked up the lipstick. It was red. It was very red. It was the color of blood. She put the lipstick on. She did it carefully. She did not want to mess up. Anya would not mess up her lipstick.
"I know the script Papa" Esha said. "I know what to do. He stole the land. He ruined the shipping deal. He is a bad man. I know all of this."
"Do not make fun of me" Vijay said. He was angry. His hand grabbed the arm of the wheelchair. His knuckles were white. "This is not a game Esha. This is for our family. If we do not stop Khan Global now they will buy us. They will take everything. Do you want Zaviyar Khan to take your grandfather's company?"
Esha put the lid on the lipstick. Click. She looked at herself in the mirror. She did not see Esha Roy. She saw a stranger. She saw a woman in a white suit. The suit was expensive. It was an Alexander McQueen suit. It looked like armor.
"I am going" Esha said. "I am going to do it."
"Do you have the passport?" Vijay asked.
Esha patted her bag. It was a Birkin bag. It was beat up. "I have it. Anya Sharma. British citizen. Born in Leeds. Parents are dead. No family. No friends."
"Good" Vijay said. He leaned back. He looked tired. Being angry made him tired. "Get inside the company. Find the ledger. Find the accounts. Once we have the proof that he is moving money illegally we will own him. We will destroy him."
The phone buzzed. It was on the marble counter. The phone was heavy. It was a special phone. It was encrypted.
Esha picked it up. She looked at the screen. It was a London number.
She took a breath. A deep breath. She pushed the feeling of being sick down. She pushed Esha down. She became Anya.
"This is Sharma" she said into the phone. She did not say hello. Anya does not say hello.
"Ms. Sharma" a voice said. It was a British voice. It sounded like a secretary. "Mr. Khan's office. We have sent the money. The car is downstairs. The pilot is ready at the airport."
"Tell the pilot to check the cabin pressure" Esha said. She looked at her nails. Her nails were perfect. "Last time I flew private my ears popped. I do not like it when my ears pop. I do not like discomfort."
"I... I will let him know ma'am" the voice said. The voice sounded scared. Good. Anya made people scared.
"Do that."
Esha hung up the phone. She put the phone in her bag.
She turned to her father. She thought maybe he would smile. Maybe he would say good luck. Maybe he would say thank you Esha.
Vijay just nodded. "Go. And do not come back until the job is done. Do not come back until Zaviyar Khan is finished."
Esha grabbed her bag. She walked out of the room. She did not look back at her father. She walked through the apartment. The apartment was quiet. It was full of old pictures. Pictures of dead people. The dead people looked at her. They looked like they were judging her.
She got in the elevator. She was alone. She let her shoulders drop. She counted to ten. One. Two. Three. She pressed her hands against her eyes. The contacts still hurt.
I hate this Esha thought. I hate this so much. I hate the Khans. I hate the Roys. I hate the feud.
The elevator stopped. Ping. The doors opened.
Esha stood up straight. She put the mask back on. She walked out to the car. The car was black. It was waiting for her. She was going to war. She was going to war for a man who did not even say thank you. She was going to destroy a man she had never met.