Chapter 9: A Mother’s Deadly Grace
The evidence from Mr. Lee burned in my mind like a fresh brand—names, account numbers, timelines, every dirty secret of the syndicate. But he was a loose thread. A dangerous one. Leaving him alive meant risking everything I had sacrificed this body for. Parvati. Our unborn child. The temple. Redemption itself.
That final night I returned as Meera. I seduced Mr. Lee again, laced his whiskey, and rode him while tightening a silk scarf around his throat exactly as he had fantasized. He died mid-thrust from the combination of sedative and asphyxiation.
I arranged the scene as autoerotic asphyxiation gone wrong, cleaned every trace, and left with his money.
By morning the news exploded: Mr. Lee was dead and Inspector Vijay was the prime suspect. The syndicate began to fracture. No one was looking for quiet, saree-clad Uma.
The Goddess had given me this body for compassion. Instead I had become a more elegant monster. Yet for Parvati and our child, I would do whatever was necessary.
Back in the present, Parvati’s fingers traced gentle circles over my belly.
“You carried so much darkness to protect us,” she whispered, kissing my temple.
I nestled closer, voice thick. “And I’d do it again. But the guilt never leaves.”
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