by P. G. Van
A Tangled Affair
By
P.G. Van
© 2020 P.G. Van
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without prior written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.
The Blurb
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
AUTHOR’S NOTE
BOOKS BY P.G. VAN
The Blurb
She ran away from home the day she turned eighteen, never wanting to return. She has learned to forget her past and live her life with her friends. She trusts no one and doesn’t let her guard down, but when Samraat shows up, he gets too close, and she cannot deny wanting to be closer.
He is headed to Las Vegas to bring the runaway girl back home as a favor for his mentor. He injects himself into her life, and when she starts to get close to him, he is conflicted. His mission was to bring his mentor’s daughter back home, not fall for her.
When hearts get entwined amidst a charade, it turns into A Tangled Affair.
Prologue
TheIronMan: We need to be on the 9am train. Meet me at our spot at 8:30.
GirlyGal: Okay. I can’t fit everything in one bag.
TheIronMan: Only the bare essentials. Did you get rid of the pictures?
GirlyGal: Yes. You?
TheIronMan: Yes. Passport?
GirlyGal: Yes. All of them and I also have cold hard cash too.
TheIronMan: I got some metal.
GirlyGal: I can’t believe this day is finally here.
TheIronMan: We should be out of the country before they realize we are gone.
GirlyGal: Yes. I am so excited for our new life.
TheIronMan: Let’s get out of here first.
GirlyGal: See you soon, darling. So excited.
Chapter 1
“Sir, Mr. Sharma is here to see you.” Samraat looked up from his computer screen at his new assistant, who always has a pleasant smile on her face.
Samraat smiled back at the young woman and asked, “I didn’t realize I was meeting with him today. How come you didn’t tell me I was meeting with him when we reviewed my schedule this morning?”
“Sir, his assistant called and told me he wanted to meet with you urgently, so I moved your other meetings.”
Samraat nodded, getting up from his chair. “Good. Thanks.”
Mr. Sharma was not only Samraat’s mentor but the Inspector General of Police for the city, and it surprised him that he came to his office when the older man could have summoned him.
Samraat walked toward the foggy glass door of his office to greet the man who had been his savior at dire times. Samraat had worked as a security specialist under Mr. Sharma before establishing his own security services company. The company served many high-profile clients and some movie industry celebrities throughout the country.
“Good morning, sir. What a surprise,” Samraat said, looking down at the elderly man who appeared anxious.
The man only nodded but did not say anything, and Samraat led him back into his office, instructing his assistant not to disturb him before shutting the door.
Samraat led his mentor to a chair in his office. “Please have a seat, sir.”
“Thank you, Samraat.”
“Sir, I hope everything is okay.” Samraat had always seen Mr. Sharma as a fearless police officer and never so vulnerable.
“Samraat, I want you to find out where this person is.” He pushed the file with the case number printed on it. He recognized the logo on the file to be his company’s.
Samraat opened the file and looked through the details. “Sir, it looks like we have no information on this girl. Just that one clipping from the travel channel was a match.”
“Yes, I know. But you are the most capable and trustworthy man for what I need.” The man’s voice was shaky.
“What do you need me to do, sir?” Samraat maintained a steady tone.
“I need you to find my daughter,” the man said, rather gloomily.
“Your daughter? I didn’t know you had any family.”
“I did. She left home ten years ago and hasn’t returned. She is all I have left.”
Samraat wasn’t sure why his mentor wanted him to look for a missing girl when he had the connections from his time serving in the police department and its technology for him to avail.
As if Mr. Sharma read Samraat’s mind, he let out a deep sigh. “I have hired every known investigative company out there to look for my daughter and have come up with no leads. And I did what I did discreetly because in my line of work, I have more enemies than friends.”
“Not even a police investigation?”
“I did what I could within my powers. I even paid an international private investigation firm for two years to search for her, but nothing.”
“Why international?”
“She had everything ready to go on a school trip to Greece, but she never joined that group.”
“Why?” Samraat was a man of few words.
“I gave her everything she ever asked for, and the only explanation is that she didn’t like the idea of me considering marriage again after her mother passed away. I only considered it for her sake, but she never understood.” The man sounded sad.
Samraat thought for a moment before asking the next question. “Did she leave with someone else? Maybe a boyfriend?”
“No, she went to an all-girls high school and had police security at all times. She barely had any friends, so she left alone, angry.” The man shook his head.
“Sir, why look for her now after all this time?”
The man took a deep breath like it hurt to speak. “I thought she was no more until your company’s investigation found this match of her on the facial recognition system.”
Samraat looked at the file and saw that the system had a match to the age-progressed image of the girl in some video footage for a travel program visiting the Chicago Food Festival.
“The last hit was in Chicago. You should hire someone local to find her.”
The man placed another small file on the table in front of Samraat. “I had a private investigation firm look for her in Chicago, but nothing.”
“Did she change her name?” Samraat asked.
The man looked at Samraat like he didn’t even consider that possibility. “Why would she want to hide from me?”
“You tell me, sir.”
The man let out a hissy breath and shook his head. “Find her, please.”
“Sir, I will have a team of investigators sent to the United States, and we will work with our partner firm to find your daughter.”
The man shook his head. “No, Samraat. I want you to
find my daughter. I don’t trust anyone else or have confidence in any other company to find her.”
“Sir, but…”
“Samraat, the night you were set free, you told me you would do anything for me. I am begging you, please find my daughter. I know you have a company to run and…”
“Sir, that’s not the problem. I can run my company from anywhere, but many others in my company are better than me at handling jobs like this one. I have not worked on a case like this in a long time.”
“I know, Samraat, but I want you to be the one. Please do this for me. No matter how much power, respect, and money I have, nothing feels complete without my daughter. Bring her home safe.”
Samraat stood up realizing it was time to pay his mentor back for what he had done for him over ten years ago. He shook hands with the man who had the power to command the police force, promising to bring back his runaway daughter.
Later that day, Samraat parked his sports car in the underground parking of a shopping complex as the sun set over the large buildings. He took off his sports jacket and loosened his tie before going up the stairs from the basement level. He waved at the hidden cameras that only he knew existed as he made his way through the stairs and narrow hallway of the building. The building had small shops below it that sold knick-knacks and such. He stepped into one such store and nodded at the man behind the counter.
“You got the screws I asked for?” Samraat used the code question to be allowed into the casino through the hidden entrance.
The man nodded, his eyes scanning the expressions of two young girls who had stopped looking at what they were buying and were gawking at Samraat. “In the storeroom.”
Samraat pressed his lips into a thin line and followed the man without another word. The man led him to the backroom and looked over Samraat’s shoulder before moving old boxes from the back wall. A few codes and checks later, the wall opened into another narrow hallway.
“Will you come back this route?”
“How much longer are you open?” Samraat asked.
“I will be closing early today. The coffee shop is open twenty-four hours today.”
“Okay. Let the café owner know to expect me on my way out.” The entrance and exit of the hidden section of the massive building were through the backdoors of the small stores.
The man nodded weakly as Samraat stepped into the dark hallway and slid the wall shut behind him. He fumbled for the light switch just for a second before turning the lights on. This hallway was one of the many entries for the employees who worked at the underground casino. He chose this route rather than the main entrance to save time with the security checks.
Gambling wasn’t illegal but had a lot of regulations, and an underground one with no regulations and taxes to pay was a lucrative business. Samraat was there to take his uncle, who had managed to sneak away from the rehabilitation center earlier that day. He always knew where to look for his gambling-addicted uncle—the only family he had left. He wasn’t going to give up on the man who raised him after his parents passed away.
Multiple hallways and a couple of elevators and more than a hundred guards dressed as homeless people later, he stepped into the casino, smoky air filling his nostrils. The casino was lavish with beautiful carpet, and the setting replicated the Las Vegas casinos.
He walked through the casino floor toward the escalator that would take him to the high- roller’s den on the lowest level of the three-level underground casino.
Samraat walked across the casino floor recognizing the celebrities and famous personalities at the high-roller’s table. He walked up a flight of stairs and stopped in front of the men guarding the entrance to the high-stakes room. Samraat dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone and dropped it on the table, placing his palms on the back of his head for the routine inspection.
The speaker on one of the men’s walkie talkie crackled, and a voice commanded, “That’s not necessary for Mr. Samraat. How many times do I need to tell you guys not to treat him like the other guests.”
The senior staff of the casino knew him personally because his uncle is a high-roller who contributes a lot to the casino with his losses. Little did the staff know that from time to time, Samraat uses his old skill to transfer money from the casino to his uncle’s casino membership card. He makes sure he only transfers what the casino took away from his uncle by getting him drunk so that he didn’t know when he won or lost a bet.
“Thank you,” he said out loud and looked at the man in front of him.
The burly security guard handed him his phone back and smiled at him. “Thanks, sir.”
Samraat heard the click of the lock before the heavy automatic door opened. He stepped into the gambling area enjoying the feel of the carpet under his shoes. He heard his uncle’s voice as soon as he stepped in and knew his uncle was losing money. His uncle looked up from his cards in front of him and waved Samraat over to take a seat.
Samraat nodded and settled into one of the plush chairs at the table. His uncle threw away his cards and looked at him. “How are you, Samraat? I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Been busy. Why are you not at the rehab center?” Samraat was moderately angry at his uncle for leaving without telling anyone.
“I wanted to see you, Samraat.” His uncle didn’t bother to look at him as he eagerly picked up his cards.
“Then why didn’t you go home?”
His uncle took a long puff of his cigarette before he looked at Samraat. “I knew you would be in the office and didn’t want to disturb you. I meant to spend a few hours here, but I lost track of time.”
“I want you to…” his words were lost when his uncle let out a victorious cry.
“My nephew is my lucky charm. Look, I won.”
Samraat’s uncle was his weakness. The man loved gambling as much as he loved his nephew, and even though he knew his uncle’s addiction was getting worse with every rehabilitation visit, he was not able to strong-arm him into quitting.
“I am moving to America.” Samraat’s voice was low, but his uncle heard him.
“What? No. Don’t leave me.”
Samraat knew he had his uncle’s attention. “You leave me no choice. You have to stay at the facility for the rest of your life and never return home, I am moving to America to expand my business there.”
His uncle immediately dropped his cards and looked at Samraat. “I promise I will stay in the rehab center. Don’t leave me and go.”
Samraat nodded. “Okay, you go to rehab for six months, and I will go to America for a few months and set up my business.”
“Promise me you will come back.”
“Yes, I promise.”
His uncle looked relieved. “When are you leaving for America?”
“Maybe in a few weeks. I have a few things I need to sort out before I go.”
Samraat’s mentor’s request was very timely. He had been thinking about expanding his private security services to international clients, and this may be the opportunity he needed to turn his growing company into something bigger.
Chapter 2
A few weeks later…
Las Vegas, Nevada, United States of America
Samraat sat inside the diner across the street from the apartment building of his mentor’s daughter. He took a sip of his coffee, and just like the past few days, he only hoped someone would show up at the apartment. He asked around about who lived in the apartment, but the tenants seemed to keep to themselves and didn’t really know anything other than a young woman was living on the third floor.
Unlike in India where all his neighbors knew his schedule when he was in his apartment, or at least what they thought it was and would probably tell anyone a lot more about him if someone came looking for him, he kept to himself for the most part. The source of information in India is the domestic help. They know everything—what people ate, what clothes they wore—and there is no way to keep them tight-lipped.
It had been almost
two weeks since he arrived in the United States. He spent a week in a Chicago hotel room working with a local investigative firm, combing through video footage for a match, but nothing turned up as a clue. He had a lucky breakthrough when he followed the images from the travel show and linked it to the closed-circuit cameras from the same location. He ran a search based on age, the color of eyes and hair, and after a lot of filtering, he narrowed down her location to the address of the apartment building he had been watching for the past few days.
It was a Sunday morning, and he didn’t know why anyone would be up at six in the morning, but he showed up at the café. He could not believe his luck when he saw a cab pull in front of the apartment entrance, and a tall woman got out of the back seat.
He placed the coffee mug down and looked around the almost-empty café to ensure no one was watching him while he followed the woman with his eyes. The woman had long dark hair, and her well-defined cheekbones told him it was her—Minerva Sharma a.k.a Kiara Das. Why would anyone go to these lengths to hide from their father? Did his mentor tell him the truth about why his daughter left home?
Samraat watched as the woman opened the trunk and pulled out her large suitcase. It explained why there was no one in the apartment since he had been watching it. He sat in his chair observing her, and as if she sensed his eyes on her, she looked in his general direction just for a second before she dragged her suitcase through the main entrance.
“Finally,” Samraat muttered under his breath, relief sweeping over him. The last few weeks have been frustrating. Trying to figure out the right rehabilitation center for his uncle while he was away for what seemed to be an indefinite amount of time, he was relieved when Mr. Sharma offered to keep an eye on his uncle to make sure he is well taken care of.
