The drive home was draped in a deceptive serenity. Inside the sleek cabin of the car, the scent of Avni’s expensive perfume mingled with the lingering aroma of the leather seats. To any passerby, they looked like the portrait of success—the recovered heir and his powerhouse CEO wife.
But Divyash felt like he was sitting on a live wire.
He glanced at Avni. She was looking out the window, her silhouette framed by the passing streetlights. Every time she reached over to adjust the AC or check a notification, Divyash felt the urge to spill everything. The secret was a physical weight in his chest, a leaden anchor that threatened to pull them both under.
"You're very quiet, Ansh," Avni said, not turning her head. "And you're driving five kilometers under the speed limit. That only happens when you’re overthinking or you’ve broken something."
Divyash forced a chuckle, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel. "Just enjoying the view. It’s been a while since I was the one behind the wheel with you next to me."
Avni finally turned, her eyes searching his. For a moment, the CEO was gone, replaced by the woman who had spent nights sitting by his bed while his hand healed. She reached out, her hand resting on his thigh. "We’re home now, Divyash. Whatever happened at Vivek’s office... it stays outside our door tonight. Okay?"
He nodded, leaning into her touch, but the guilt gnawed at him. They were the duo everyone envied for their stability. But that stability was built on a foundation of honesty that Vivek was now asking him to crack.
While the city slept, the lights in Vivek’s private office remained a dim, amber glow. The building was empty, the silence so absolute that every tick of the wall clock sounded like a hammer blow.
Vivek stood by the window, staring out at the darkened skyline. Behind him, he heard the soft rustle of fabric. Kajal was still there, sitting on the edge of the sofa, looking smaller than ever among the towering bookshelves of legal precedents.
"You should go to the guest room in the back, Kajal," Vivek said, his voice raspy. "It’s 2:00 AM."
"I can't sleep," she whispered. "Every time I close my eyes, I see your father’s face. I see the way Divyash looked at me—like I was a ticking time bomb."
Vivek turned. He didn't stay by the window. He walked toward her, his movements slow, as if he were approaching a wounded animal. He knelt on the carpet in front of her, forcing her to look at him.
"Divyash is on our side," Vivek promised. "He’s dramatic and he’s terrified of Dad, but he’s a Singh. We protect our own."
"But I’m not yours," Kajal said, a tear finally escaping and tracing a path down her cheek. "I’m an intern. I’m a liability. I’m the daughter of the man who is trying to ruin your family's legacy. Vivek, let me go. I’ll take a bus, I’ll change my name—"
"No." The word was sharp, final.
Vivek reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. This was the forbidden territory he had spent two years avoiding. To touch her was to admit defeat; it was to acknowledge that the "workaholic" had a heart that beat for someone he was supposed to cross-examine.
"If you walk out that door, Khosla wins," Vivek murmured, his face inches from hers. "And I lose the only thing that has made these last two years of legal drudgery worth it."
Kajol leaned into his palm, a broken sob catching in her throat. "Why me? Of all the people in this city, why did you have to choose the one person who could destroy you?"
"I didn't choose," Vivek said, his voice dropping to a low, fierce amber. "That’s the problem with the law, Kajal. It’s built on logic. But this?" He gestured between them. "This is the only thing in my life that doesn't follow a single rule."
In the sanctuary of the office, surrounded by the very laws they were breaking, Vivek pulled her into a desperate embrace. It wasn't like the comfortable, practiced love of Divyash and Avni. It was a tragedy in motion—a love that felt like a secret kept in a burning building.
The quiet of their bedroom felt heavy after the structured chaos of the day. Avni was seated at her dressing table, her movements methodical as she went through the familiar motions of her nightly skincare routine. In the mirror’s reflection, she could see Divyash. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his posture rigid, the air around him thick with a tension she could practically taste.
"Avni," he began, his voice barely a murmur, cracking the silence. "I need to talk to you."
She set down a crystal bottle of serum and turned, her eyes searching his. The playful glint that usually defined him was absent, replaced by a haunting gravity. Sensing the shift, she crossed the room and sat beside him. "What is it, Divyash? You’ve been a ghost ever since you got home."
Divyash took a deep breath, the words spilling out in a hurried confession. He laid out the scene from Vivek’s office—the secret shelter, the forbidden love for an intern, and the looming shadow of the Khosla case. He didn't sugarcoat the danger; he told her exactly what Vivek was asking. He told her that their brother’s future was now resting entirely on her shoulders.
"Are you brothers insane?" Avni asked, her voice rising in a sharp spike of panic. She stood up, pacing the small space between the bed and the window. "Why me? You’re asking me to walk into your father’s study and tell a man who has never lost a battle to abandon his final victory? I can’t just tell him to give up on the Khosla case."
Divyash reached out, catching her hand to still her restless movement. "Because he only listens to you, Avni. To him, Vivek and I are still children to be managed, but he respects you. He respects your business mind and your foresight. You’re the only one who can frame this as a strategic retreat rather than a surrender."
His grip tightened slightly, his eyes pleading. "It’s the only way to keep Kajal safe—and the only way to ensure Dad doesn't disown Vivek when the truth inevitably leaks out."
Avni looked down at their joined hands. The logic was sound, but the risk was immense. Interference in a Singh family matter was never a light undertaking. "I know we’re asking you to step into a fire that isn’t yours," Divyash added softly, his voice heavy with guilt. "It’s your decision. If you say no, I’ll find another way. I won't let this be your burden if you don't want it."
Avni let out a long, weary sigh, the tension finally bleeding out of her shoulders. "Fine. I’ll talk to the old man. But promise me this: he must never suspect we are involved in hiding Kajal. If we’re going to help Vivek save her from Khosla, we have to be invisible." She paused, a new thought crossing her mind. "Does Mom know?"
Divyash let out a sharp, dry laugh. "No. Vivek is her 'golden boy.' If she found out he’s been in love with a girl like Kajal for two years and kept it from her, she wouldn’t just be angry—she’d be devastated. She would not take it well."
Avni shook her head, a small, reluctant smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "You both are putting me in a impossible spot. But," she leaned in, resting her head against his shoulder, "I suppose it’s the least I can do. Vivek took care of you like a private nurse while you were injured. And knowing how difficult you are when you're bored... I know you gave him hell."
Divyash grinned, the familiar mischief returning to his eyes. "Well, opportunities to have my big brother wait on me hand and foot don’t come around often. I had to make the most of it."
"He told me you insisted on bathing twice a day just to make him move your chair," she teased.
"It was a very important part of my physical therapy," he countered, leaning back and pulling her with him.
The heavy atmosphere lifted, replaced by the comfortable intimacy they had built together. Avni adjusted herself against him. "By the way, I have some news of my own. I’m heading to Paris next month for a series of business summits. Would you care to join me as my plus-one?"
Divyash sat up, his face lighting up with genuine excitement. "Paris? The city of love? I would never dream of turning down such a tempting offer. Count me in. This will be our real honeymoon, won't it?"
Avni laughed, reaching over to click off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into soft moonlight. "It’s a work trip, Divyash. You’re just coming along for the champagne and the shopping."
"It’s a honeymoon in my book," he whispered, opening his arms as they settled into the pillows. "Call it whatever you want, as long as you're there. Now come here... you know I can’t sleep unless I’m holding you."
As the house fell silent, the weight of the coming battle with the Singh patriarch remained, but for tonight, the only thing that mattered was the quiet breathing of the person beside him.
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