Two months had crawled by since the "accident," though the word felt like a lie to anyone who knew the truth. For Divyash, the recovery had been a grueling test of patience. It was only forty-eight hours ago that the heavy plaster was finally cracked open and removed, leaving his hand feeling strangely light and vulnerable. As he walked into the legal offices today, the phantom weight of the cast still seemed to haunt his stride.
The investigation, meanwhile, had hit a wall of silence. The CCTV footage from that night was damningly clear: a waiter had slipped into the control room with practiced ease, uncoupling the heavy disco ball just as Divyash stood beneath it. It was a calculated strike, but the culprit had vanished into the city’s labyrinth the moment the glass shattered. What the police didn’t know—what only a few souls in this room understood—was that the manhunt was being sabotaged from within. Amol had been funneling money to the fugitive using his parents’ account, the very same one Avni replenished weekly for household expenses. With Avyash and Avni having moved out, Amol held the keys to the kingdom, managing the ledger with a quiet, desperate efficiency.
Inside Vivek’s chamber, the air was thick with the scent of old paper and new anxiety. Divyash was no longer the patient; he was the prosecutor. He paced the length of the room, his footsteps muffled by the plush carpet.
"Bhai, this isn't just a mistake. It’s a catastrophe," Divyash hissed, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and disbelief. "If Dad discovers you’ve been harboring a witness and bribing a fugitive, he won’t just fire you—he’ll erase you. And if he finds out I’ve been sitting here, keeping your secrets? He’ll kill me in front of my wife before I can even apologize."
Vivek sat behind his mahogany desk, his face a mask of weary determination. "Dad won’t find out, Divyash. Not unless you break. And let’s be honest—you owe me. Who was there to carry you to the bath when you couldn't stand? Who managed the fallout while you were drugged up on painkillers?" His voice wavered between a plea for loyalty and a subtle, jagged threat.
Divyash stopped pacing, turning to look at Kajal, who stood like a ghost in the corner of the room. "I’m not going to betray you, but I don’t understand the obsession. Why are you risking everything for her? Her father has a fleet of lawyers; they can get her state protection. You’re the opposition counsel, Vivek. If the Bar Association sees you keeping her in your private chambers, they won't call it protection. They’ll call it kidnapping."
"You don't know Khosla like I do," Vivek replied, his gaze softening as it drifted toward Kajal. "To the world, he’s a titan of industry. To those of us in the pits, he’s a man who would step over his daughter’s corpse to win a verdict. I can’t let her go back. I won't."
Kajol finally spoke, her voice small and fractured. "Mr. Singh... I never meant to tear this family apart. I didn't want you to carry this weight. I am so sorry."
Vivek stood, his professional veneer finally cracking. "Miss Kajal, would you mind giving us the room? I need a private word with my brother."
As the door clicked shut behind her, the silence in the room became absolute. Vivek let out a breath he seemed to have been holding for years. "I love her, Divyash."
The words hung in the air, heavy and unexpected. Divyash had suspected a spark, but to hear it from his workaholic, stoic brother felt like a tectonic shift. "She’s been my intern for two years," Vivek continued, his voice thick with desperation. "I fought it. God, I fought it every single day. But when I heard Khosla was planning to snatch her—to use her as leverage to force her father to perjure himself—I couldn't stay objective. This was the only way. No one would ever think to look for her in the lion's den, protected by the very firm trying to take her father down."
Divyash’s anger began to melt into a reluctant empathy. He saw the hollow circles under Vivek’s eyes and realized this wasn't a game of legal chess; it was a rescue mission. "What do you need from me?"
"I need Avni," Vivek said. "Dad is obsessed with this Khosla case. It's his swan song, his last big win before retirement. He won't listen to me; he'll just see me as a soft-hearted disappointment. But Avni... she has a way of speaking his language. She can frame it as a business risk. Tell him Khosla is a sinking ship, that the liability is too high. If she can't get him to drop it, she has to help us sabotage it from the inside."
"Why not just tell Maa?" Divyash asked.
Vivek laughed bitterly. "You know Maa. I’m her 'golden boy.' If she finds out I’ve been 'trapped' by a girl like Kajal, she won't help. she’ll destroy the girl to 'save' me. She’s protective of—"
"Of you," Divyash corrected sharply. "Not us. Just you."
"Fine, me," Vivek conceded. "But Avni is the key. Will you talk to her?"
Divyash sighed, rubbing his temples. "I’ll talk to her. But I won't force her. It’s her choice if she wants to step into this line of fire."
As Divyash turned to leave, the adrenaline faded, and his own grievances resurfaced. "And what about my case, Vivek? The waiter who tried to turn my foot into a pancake? Why me? What did I ever do to him?"
Vivek waved a dismissive hand, already reaching for a stack of legal briefs. "The police are close, Divyash. But honestly, you’re fine. Now get out. I have three days of work to catch up on because you decided that 'recovering' meant needing a bath twice a day and someone to hold your hand."
"Watch your tone, Bhai," Divyash grinned, his hand on the doorknob. "Your entire romantic future is currently sitting in my pocket." He stepped out into the hallway, offering a quick, reassuring nod to Kajal. "Don't mind the shouting, Kajal. I was just panicking. We’re in this together now."
Leaving the office, Divyash’s mind raced. “Keh toh diya bhai ko par Avni ko kaise bataunga,” he muttered to himself. (I told my brother I'd do it, but how on earth will I tell Avni?)
He drove toward Avni’s corporate headquarters, the sunset painting the skyline in shades of bruised purple. He had dropped her off that morning, intending to use the evening to settle things with Vivek, but now the burden of the secret felt twice as heavy.
He saw her emerging from the glass lobby—Avni, the formidable CEO who could make senior VPs tremble with a single look. But the moment she spotted his car, the iron facade vanished. She hurried toward him, her worry evident.
"How was your day? You should have stayed home, Ansh," she said, her voice soft as she handed him her briefcase. "Another week of rest wouldn't have hurt."
Divyash pulled her into a brief, one-armed hug. "And miss out on the thrill of the commute? Besides, the house is a tomb without you in the afternoon. I found myself pouting at the walls because I missed you."
"You are so dramatic," she laughed, rolling her eyes, though she didn't pull away.
Behind her, Priya, her executive assistant, stood frozen. Several other employees lingering near the entrance exchanged whispered glances. They were used to a CEO who was cold, efficient, and unforgiving of even the smallest clerical error. Seeing her melt into a smile for her husband was like watching a statue come to life.
"Come on, let's get you home," Divyash said, opening the passenger door for her. As he moved to toss her bag in the back, he noticed Priya holding a stack of folders.
"Oh, Priya! Hope you have a wonderful evening," he called out warmly.
"Thank you, sir," Priya said, stepping forward tentatively. "Ma'am, you asked for these files for tonight's review. Sir, would you mind...?"
"Of course," Divyash said, opening the rear door. "Put them right on the seat."
With the files secured and the goodbyes finished, Divyash climbed into the driver's seat. He looked at his wife—the woman who held the power to save his brother or end a legacy—and started the engine. The conversation could wait until dinner, but for now, he just wanted to drive.
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