Night Club Read online

  Her strength was Beauty

  Her weakness was Money

  Night Club

  Page after page of nerve-wracking suspense

  ●●●

  Undisputed Master in World of Hindi Novels

  AMIT KHAN

  His Amazing Romantic Thriller

  Book Café

  PUBLICATION

  ●●●

  CONCEPT

  Her name was Shinaya Sharma. A Beautiful name for a gorgeous girl. Her smile was magical. Her beauty was seductive. She was a Night Club dancer. A high-priced call girl.

  But Shinaya knew that time was running out and age was catching up with her. Soon her beauty will fade and admirers will disappear. The magic she could work and money she could spin was only as long as the fountain of her youth lasted.

  To escape the dreaded future of penury & disease, she needed a scheme– to stay rich forever. To achieve her ambition, she created a deadly plan- a plan to murder a multi-billionaires’ wife and take her place.

  A perfect plot. A perfect murder!

  A Masterplan that would circumvent any investigation or Post-mortem. Shinaya decided to deceive law and swindle medical science with an ingenious plan.

  This is the shocking life-story of Shinaya Sharma… In her own words!

  Previously published as ‘Autobiography of a Prisoner Girl’; this is the re-edited, improved and upgraded version of one of his best-loved and highly acclaimed novels that has sold millions of copies in its Hindi language release.

  ●●●

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Amit Khan is the bestselling, highly-acclaimed, and amongst the most loved popular Hindi fiction authors of India.

  His first story Vinamrata- based on the former American president George Washington- was published at the age of 12 years and his first novel was published when he was just 15 years old. THIS IS POSSIBLY A WORLD RECORD.

  More than 100 of his Hindi novels have been published by the leading publication houses of India. He has also published 80 short stories and more than 50 Diamond Comics. He has also forayed into English books and is amongst the select few authors of the country, whose novels are published and are popular in both Hindi and English languages.

  He is the creator of the legendary ‘Commander Karan Saxena’- a milestone character in the world of Hindi novels. The much loved and admired Hero of millions of die-hard fans is India’s answer to Ian Fleming’s James Bond.

  Apart from fiction & print media, Amit Khan is also currently very active in Bollywood. Hundreds of episodes written by him have been telecast on television’s leading channels. Also superhit films have been created in Hindi, Marathi and Punjabi languages which were based on stories and screenplays written by him.

  Amit Khan has been adorned with “Hindi Seva Samman” by “Vishwa Hindi Academy”. In “Nashik International Film Festival” he received award for Best Story and Screenplay.

  He has been invited as a speaker at leading Literature festivals across India to express his views about writing, like “Crime Writer’s Festival”, organized by Hindustan Times and Lit-O-Fest (Literature, Art & Music Festival).

  His popular YouTube channel “Amit Khan Ki Chaupal”- where he shares his short stories & poetry in his own voice - has thousands of keen followers.

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  ACCOLADES

  Amit Khan- The cherubic author, one of the youngest exponents of Hindi Pulp Fiction

  HINDUSTAN TIMES

  Amit Khan is a formidable name in the world of Hindi Thriller Novels

  MID DAY

  The youngest writer in Hindi Pulp Fiction

  FEMINA

  Amit Khan is a personality to reckon with in the field of writing

  THE FREE PRESS JOURNAL

  Amit Khan- A resolute writer, who lives life on his own terms

  DAINIK JAGRAN

  Amit Khan- A Distinguished Hindi Novelist

  PUNJAB KESRI

  Chetan Bhagat vs Amit Khan

  DIVYA BHASKAR

  ●●●

  1st Edition: June 1st 2018

  ● Night Club, By Amit Khan

  © Copyright Amit Khan

  Published By

  Book Café Publication

  Mumbai- 400104 (India)

  Contact: [email protected]

  ●●●

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronics, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the writer. Please contact the writer for licensing of derivative rights.

  ●●●

  ACKNOWLEDGMENT

  Friends,

  Many new exciting avenues are opening up in my life as a writer. Book Café Publication is a new venture and I can already feel a bond developing. Same is the case with being connected to Amazon!

  Being associated with Amazon is undoubtedly a big step in my writing career because this platform will help me reach a global audience. I am positive that this international platform will be beneficial in making both e-books as well as paperback confident easily available to you- my readers.

  The world is changing, constantly. So is writing and the business of writing! Everything is going digital now. It was only natural that we adapted to this era of digitalization. Matching rhythm with the changing time is the key to both happiness and success.

  Book Café Publication is entering the world of book publishing with its first presentation- ‘Night Club’. I hope that along with this novel, Book Café Publication will earn both your love and support, and will be a stupendous success. My Hindi novels will also be available now through Book Café Publication.

  Now few words about ‘Night Club’ - an erotic thriller. This is the story of a girl who uses her beauty as a weapon. Men are crazy about her and she is crazy about becoming rich. She starts down a slippery road that leads to her doom. Destiny brought her to a point where she had to make tough choices and had to murder to achieve her goal.

  About this novel, I will like to express my sincere thank a few people. First of all, Alok Jadhav who has played a big role in strengthening the language and style of this novel. Vikram Deewan keenly analyzed the language and brought to my attention even the smallest of errors. I heartily thank my wife Tajwer and both daughters Saloni and Arrika who travel with me on this writing journey. It’s not an easy one and they have tolerated me a lot.

  My next novel will also be an romantic thriller. It will be like the next link in series. You will meet new characters and learn about some more truths of life. I will be announcing the title soon.

  It’s bye for now, my dear readers.

  We will meet again very soon with the next ‘Romantic Thriller’.

  Amit Khan

  Mumbai

  June 1st 2018

  Night Club

  The door of prison creaked open and the jailor of the Central Jail stepped in.

  “I am surprised.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  She was a beautiful girl; a young woman of twenty-five. She was the prisoner.

  “I am surprised,” the jailor said, “to hear your last wish. You asked for pen and papers. What are you planning to do?”

  The girl sighed. Her pale face brightened up with so many shades at once and then turned ashen again.

  “I want to write a story, jailor Saab!”

  “A Story?”

  “Yes…My Story. The story of my life.”

  “Oh! You want to write your autobiography.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Will it make any difference?”

  “Maybe…Maybe this world will know the truth. I will reveal what happened in my life.”

  “I stil
l don’t understand.”

  The girl smiled. It was a painful smile. A Heart-wrenching smile!

  “You are a police officer. Not so easy for you to understand. If you want to understand my life, my story, you will need a heart full of pain.”

  “Well, I hope you remember that you have only three days left,” jailor reminded. “You will be hanged three days from now.”

  “I know.”

  “And you think that you can write it all in such a short time?”

  “Maybe…maybe not. I can try.”

  “Quite determined, aren’t you?”

  Jailor could feel his heart moaning for the unfortunate girl. He could see her pain and feel it.

  “It is my final wish Jailor Saab.”

  Her voice jittered as she spoke. It sounded like pieces of broken heart jingling in her words.

  “You asked me my final wish and I told you. If there is any problem and you cannot grant me the wish then…..”

  “No…no problem,” jailor said. “I will send the things right away.”

  “Thank you, sir. Thank you for obliging the wish of a broken-hearted girl. I will never forget it.”

  Jailor returned with a heavy heart.

  After some time few pens and four bundles of paper arrived in that prison.

  ●

  1

  My Childhood

  I should begin with my name.

  I am Shinaya…Shinaya Sharma.

  It is a beautiful name. Beautiful, just like me.

  Youth and beauty together make an intoxicating combination. Like an enthralling drink bubbling to spill over! An irresistible invitation that no man can deny! What’s the point in denying the truth? I could bring any man at my feet. I could make a man lose all senses. My warm breaths could melt even the most resolute man and make him my slave.

  Yes, a seductive look is the most lethal weapon a woman can wield. And with it she can play the game of life to her advantage.

  But believe me…this weapon can become a weakness. You will realize it as you read my story.

  I was born in a notorious area in Mumbai. Merely mention Foras Road and you will see frowning faces. I spent my childhood in that trashy locale.

  My mother was a prostitute.

  Offering herself for money was a way of life for her. I was a result of those vile deeds.

  Forget about me, even my mother did not know who my father was!

  Just imagine…how could a woman, whose body is exploited by hundreds of men, say for sure- when and by whom she got pregnant?

  Whatever the case, a mother is a mother and I sympathize with her.

  My heart did cry for her, especially because of the way she died.

  She had AIDS which was no surprise. What else can one expect after living the way she did? The voluptuousness and the inviting pull of her body disappeared due to the deadly disease. Once men were crazy about her beautiful body. That body, in the end, turned so hideous that it was impossible to look at her. It was a revolting, nauseating sight.

  She died a horrible, painful death.

  Her weapon turned against herself and injured her in a way that she could recover.

  Mother was no more but there were other women to take care of me…lots of them. So-called aunts and sisters! All of them loved me like my mother.

  I was special because I was a girl. And I was pretty. I was noticeable even when I was just five. I remember the looks men used to give me even then. As if they were imagining exploiting me.

  By the time I was eleven, I was growing up faster than other girls. I was turning in to a seductive magnet. The youth had arrived and arrived in such a mesmerizing manner that other women were surprised. It must have been embarrassing for them that their customers looked at me rather than them.

  Eyes of any passerby would stare at my face and soon slide down. I was more attractive than even grown-up women. Careless and clueless of consequences I tried to flaunt myself. I did not know that I was setting up fires among men around me.

  “My God!” one of my aunts would exclaim. “Look at her…she is already a bombshell. She is just a kid and already she is a deadly poison.”

  Other women used to laugh at my aunt’s remark. Even I would smile.

  Women in a brothel are quite shameless and elaborate when they are talking about men. I remember how they used to talk about ‘How a man can be controlled’? They giggled while talking about intimate issues. Any girl who hears and remembers this stuff would easily make any man her slave. It was a special and privileged education.

  Even a class of ‘Kama Sutra’ was nothing compared to that.

  ●

  Now I come to the most horrifying experience of my life Any girl would want her first-time experience to be special. But whenever I recall that incident, it chills me down to my bones.

  I was really scared. I was only 13. What else do you expect me to feel?

  He was a rough man of forty. A dark shameless rowdy guy with a bushy moustache! Everything about him was so repulsive. And the way he laughed at the thought of crushing me…I shuddered at the thought.

  He came inside and locked the door.

  “Stay away,” I warned him. “Don’t you dare touch me!”

  He was laughing.

  Hideously, fearlessly and incessantly.

  He took out a paan and crushed it under his teeth. Then he chewed it and walked towards me. He was like a hungry animal inching towards its prey.

  “Don’t,” I screamed. “I said stay away.”

  “Why?” he laughed. “Are you afraid?”

  My trembling hand grabbed a metal vase. I threw it towards him, hoping it will stop him from his horrible intentions.

  He ducked.

  It was not a bad aim. That heavy vase would have split his head open, had he not bent down.

  The monster did not lose any time after that and rushed towards me. I tried to escape but I had no chance. It was a small room and he grabbed me before I could think of running towards the door.

  It was a hideous embrace. He was holding me tightly and his hands were all over me.

  I was screaming and struggling. My hands were trying to push him away and my legs were scuttling in the air.

  I saw his face coming closer and closer.

  I felt like a bolt of lightning running through my body.

  “Go away,” I managed to shout. This time I used my nails to scratch his face. It did not help. That monster was grabbing me tighter and tighter. His mind was overtaken by passion.

  “Tonight…my darling. You are mine,” he said. “I have waited for you for so long.”

  I saw a crazy look in his eyes. It terrified me. I felt all my powers leaving me.

  He was going insane.

  All barriers that protected my dignity were removed.

  “Please…” I started crying. “Please let me go…for God’s sake…”

  I was pale with fear, embarrassment, and every humiliating feeling that a woman can experience.

  I was trembling. My pleading was useless. He was determined to ruin my life and in the end, I gave up.

  My surrender charged him further. Now he faced no resistance and he knew he could do anything with me now.

  “Wonderful… you are… really,” he said.

  A short while after that, my body and soul shrieked with pain. A blinding pain led to that deafening scream and it felt no different than an earthquake in that small room.

  ●

  2

  Graduation @ Night Club

  I was in a state of shock for rest of the night and the succeeding day. The pain was beyond description. I was scared, wondering if I will ever be able to stand and walk properly.

  Whatever I had to endure was brutal enough to kill. I bet any other girl would have succumbed. At that age, it was unimaginable…intolerable.

  But I was alive.

  What can I say? I was alive and well.

  I realised that my body was ready to withstand such abuse even at
the age of 13. The horror of that event stayed with me for few days.

  But then I experienced something…something that was even more shocking. I saw a change I had least expected in myself. That horror- that fear slowly disappeared from my mind. That very sensation now felt comforting. I would remember that dirty man. I would remember how I was screaming. I was trembling with fear at that time but now that moment- that exact moment felt thrilling. The memory would run a wave of excitement through me.

  Such a weird fantasy!

  Such madness! The pain had become a pleasure. The horror of my life had become a pleasant experience.

  Along with other women, there was a musician- a Tabla player who used to stay in the brothel. He used to play during dance performances in the house.

  One night I entered his room.

  As soon as I entered I closed the door.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Why?” I walked towards him and said. “Don’t you like me? Don’t you feel something for me? Won’t you like to possess me?”

  He was shocked and speechless.

  He must not have imagined this happening even in his wildest dreams.

  After all, I was a child…almost.

  Before he could think or speak, I was too close to him.

  I could feel his excitement.

  I was even more stimulated.

  “I did not knew,” he said enjoying my beauty with his eyes, “that you are so beautiful.”

  He pulled me closer.

  I wanted to enjoy it this time. I wanted to have complete gratification and I was willing to oblige with whatever he had in mind.

  “I love you, baby…I love you,” he sighed.

  “Don’t call me baby,” I whispered.

  “Well,” he looked at me and said. “You are not a baby anymore.” And then he did something that filled me with pleasure.