chapter 53
When he finally pulled back, their foreheads were almost touching, both of them breathing unevenly like they had just run a marathon.
Tara’s fingers were still fisted in his shirt, and his hand hadn’t left her waist. Vipul looked at her flushed cheeks, wide eyes, and trembling lips, and a small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“I hope you got your answer… hmm?” he said softly, his voice teasing but gentle.
Her brain stopped working.
Heat rushed to her face and she quickly looked down, suddenly very interested in the ground. The bold, always-arguing Tara was nowhere to be found. She couldn’t even form a proper sentence.
Vipul raised an eyebrow and leaned back a little to look at her properly. “Arey baap re,” he chuckled, “meri saari dard ko sharma bhi aata hai kya?”
She gasped and immediately smacked his chest. “Shut up!”
He laughed, catching her wrist before she could hit him again. The sound of his laughter was soft, warm different from his usual irritated tone. And that made her heart flutter even more.
“Pagal ladki,” he muttered fondly, still smiling, “itna drama sirf yeh jaanne ke liye tha?”
She pouted but couldn’t stop smiling either.
Time skip
Between silly arguments, late-night calls, shared meals, and stolen moments together, Tara and Vipul had grown closer than either of them had ever expected.
What started as constant bickering had slowly turned into comfort, then attachment, and now something deeper that neither of them could name without blushing.
They had begun spending almost every day together eating from the same plate, teasing each other over the smallest things, sitting a little too close during movie nights, their hands naturally finding each other’s without even realizing it.
Their bond wasn’t loud or dramatic anymore; it was soft, warm, and intimate in the quietest way, like they simply belonged beside each other.
One afternoon, Vipul was in Rudra’s office, seated across the large desk with a stack of reports in front of him.
Rudra was explaining something seriously, flipping through the contract files.
“Vipul, this contract with the Italian—” he started, but his words trailed off mid-sentence when he noticed Vipul wasn’t listening at all.
Instead, Vipul was staring blankly at the same page for the past five minutes, a faint, stupid smile playing on his lips like an idiot lost in a daydream. His pen hadn’t moved once. Rudra narrowed his eyes
“Vipul!!” Rudra’s sharp voice cut through the silence of the cabin, making Vipul flinch so hard that the pen slipped from his fingers. “Yes— yes, boss,” he stammered, straightening in his chair like a schoolboy caught daydreaming in class.
Rudra leaned back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest, his gaze steady and unreadable.
“Where are you lost?” he asked calmly. Vipul quickly gathered the scattered papers, avoiding eye contact.
“Sorry, boss,” he muttered. Rudra studied him for a moment before speaking again, his tone softer but serious.
“Vipul, these days I’m noticing you’re not paying attention to work.
You zone out in meetings, miss details… this isn’t like you.
Is everything okay, or is something troubling you? ”
For a split second, Tara’s smiling face flashed in Vipul’s mind her laugh, her calls, her dramatic fights and without realizing it, a tiny smile tugged at his lips again.
He immediately suppressed it and shook his head.
“Nahi, boss… sab theek hai,” he replied quickly, a little too quickly.
Rudra raised a suspicious brow, clearly not convinced, but before he could say anything more, Vipul buried himself in the files again, pretending to read while his heart stubbornly refused to stay anywhere except with one troublesome girl.
Vipul gathered the files and was about to step out of the cabin when he glanced at the time. His heartbeat instinctively sped up. “Boss… it’s time to pick Tara from college. I’ll go,” he said, already reaching for his car keys.
But before he could take even two steps, Rudra’s calm yet firm voice stopped him. “No need.”
Vipul paused mid-step and turned.
“Ishni said she’ll pick her today,” Rudra added casually, going back to his documents as if it were nothing important.
Nothing important.
Yet for Vipul, it felt like someone had quietly pulled the ground from under his feet.
His fingers tightened around the keys, then slowly loosened.
The small urgency in his chest the habit of checking the clock, the unspoken excitement of seeing her waiting at the gate, the silly arguments during the drive all of it suddenly had nowhere to go.
“Oh… okay,” he replied, trying to sound normal.
But his face fell before he could control it.
He walked back to his chair and sat down, staring at the same file for minutes without reading a single word. The office felt unusually quiet… unusually empty.
For the first time, he realized picking her up wasn’t just a responsibility anymore.
It was the best part of his day.
Vipul leaned back in his chair, jaw tight, irritation bubbling inside him.
Why didn’t she inform me, huh? Pagal ladki.
Today, he decided, he wouldn’t talk to her at all.
Haan, bilkul baat nahi karunga. Let her realize.
Let her miss him for once. He folded his arms, trying to look focused, though his mind was anything but calm.
“Vipul?” Rudra’s voice cut through his thoughts.
Vipul looked up, a little too quickly.
“You sure tum theek ho?” Rudra asked, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Tumhara muh kyun utra hua hai?”
Vipul straightened instantly. “Huh? Nahi boss… sab normal hai,” he said, forcing a casual tone.
Rudra raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but said nothing more. Vipul turned back to the file in front of him, pretending to read, while his mind stubbornly drifted back to just one thought—aaj baat nahi karunga… bilkul nahi.
At night
Tara sitting cross-legged on her bed, her laptop open in front of her while sheets of notes lay scattered everywhere.
She was busy finishing a college assignment, occasionally biting her pen in frustration.
The room was quiet except for the soft ticking of the clock when suddenly she heard a faint knock.
Frowning, she turned toward the window. Window se knock?
Confused, she got up and walked over, pulling the curtain aside.
Her eyes widened.
“Vipul?” she whispered in shock.
He was standing outside, half-leaning against the wall like some thief, hair messy, clearly out of breath.
“Meriii maa… pehle andar kheench lo mujhe,” he muttered urgently.
“Haan haan!” she hissed, quickly unlocking the window and grabbing his arm, pulling him inside before anyone could see.
The moment he landed in her room, he straightened his shirt and looked around cautiously.
“Tum yaha? Aur aise?” she asked, completely baffled, hands on her waist. “Normal log darwaze se aate hain, window se nahi.”
Vipul dusted off his shirt and shot her an unimpressed look. “Haan, taki boss aur ma’am ko pata chal jaaye ki main tumse itni raat ko milne aaya hoon? Phir kal se meri naukri gayi samjho.”
She rolled her eyes. “Accha baba, phone toh kar dete.”
He went quiet for a second, jaw tightening slightly. “Tumne aaj call bhi nahi kiya… aur college se ma’am tumhe pick karke le gayi. Main pura din tumhe dekh bhi nahi paya.” His voice lowered without him realizing. “So… I came.”
The last two words came out softer than he intended.
Tara blinked. All her teasing died instantly. “Matlab… sirf mujhse milne?”
He looked away, pretending to inspect the room. “Overthink mat karo. Bas check karna tha tum theek ho ya nahi.”
But the way he had climbed through her window at ten at night, risking getting caught, just because he hadn’t seen her the whole day… said something very different.
Her lips slowly curved into a small smile. “Pagal ho tum.”
He glanced at her. “Tumhari wajah se.”
“Aww… my Vipul baby gussa ho gaye kya?” Tara teased, her voice dripping with mischief as she watched his already annoyed face turn even grumpier.
“Shut uppp,” he muttered, looking away, but the slight redness on his ears betrayed him.
She giggled and caught his hand before he could move. “Come.”
Before he could protest, she pulled him toward the bed and made him sit. Then, without a second of hesitation, she climbed onto his lap, sitting facing him, her knees on either side of him. Vipul froze instantly, hands hovering awkwardly in the air like he didn’t know where to place them.
“Tara… kya kar rahi ho tum?” he whispered, trying to sound strict but failing miserably.
She smirked, leaning closer, her hair falling around his face like a curtain. “Aaj na… main saara gussa nikaal deti hoon.”
His heartbeat went wild. “Pagal ho kya? Koi dekh lega—”
“Dar lag raha hai?” she challenged softly.
He gulped. Not because of getting caught… but because of her.
She poked his cheek. “Itna attitude dikhate ho, cold face banate ho, phone pe daant-te ho… ab punishment milega.”
“Punishment?” he raised a brow.
“Haan,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer until their foreheads touched. “Tum sirf mere ho… samjhe?”
For a second, his irritation melted completely. His hands finally settled on her waist, holding her securely.
“Drama queen,” he murmured.
“Tumhari,” she replied softly.
Just then Ishni’s voice echoed through the house, loud and clear, “Taraaa! Come down for dinner!”
Both of them froze instantly.
Tara’s eyes widened while Vipul stiffened beneath her, his hands still on her waist. For a full second neither of them even breathed, like statues caught red-handed.
“Oh no… ab kya?” Vipul whispered harshly, panic flashing across his face as he quickly pushed her off his lap and stood up. “I’m dead. Agar boss ne dekh liya na toh mera kaam khatam.”
Tara, on the other hand, looked oddly calm. “Arey relax,” she said, whispering back. “Tumne movies nahi dekhi kya? How to hide in a girl’s room 101.”
“Are you crazy? I don’t have time for all this shit,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Main window se jump kar raha hoon.”
“Pagal ho kya? Second floor hai!”
“Better than dying at Rudra sir’s hands.”
She rolled her eyes and grabbed his wrist before he could move. “Chup. Wardrobe mein chhup jao.”
“What? No! I’m not hiding in your cupboard like some criminal!”
“Tch. Drama mat karo, jaldi jao!”
Ishni called again, closer this time. “Taraaa! Sun rahi ho ya nahi?”
“Coming didi!” Tara shouted back, then pushed Vipul toward the wardrobe.
He squeezed himself inside awkwardly among her clothes, her skirts and hoodies falling over his head. “This is humiliating,” he whispered.
She suppressed a laugh and shut the door slightly. “Shhh. Don’t make a sound.”
Just before leaving, she leaned close to the crack and smirked. “By the way… Mr. Attitude… you look cute hiding in my cupboard.”
“Tara…” he warned under his breath.
But she was already walking out, smiling to herself, leaving him trapped inside surrounded by her perfume and racing heartbeat.
“Bas yeh din sab dekhna hi baaki tha…” Vipul muttered under his breath as he stood cramped inside Tara’s wardrobe, her dressess and hoodies falling over his face while her perfume filled the tiny space, making his heart race even faster.
“Vipul, tu company handle karta hai… aur aaj almari mein chhupa hua hai. Wah.”
Meanwhile, completely opposite to his misery, Tara walked downstairs looking suspiciously calm, even smiling.
“Arey, kya hua? Itna time kyun laga rahi thi?” Ishni asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Kuch nahi didi, bas thoda kaam tha room mein,” Tara replied casually, pulling out her chair as if nothing had happened.
Rudra, Ishni, and Tara started eating dinner together, the clinking of cutlery and soft conversation filling the dining room. Tara tried her best to act normal, but every few seconds her mind drifted upstairs—to Vipul stuck inside her cupboard. She almost choked imagining his irritated face.
Just then their big jaguar padded into the dining area and went straight to Ishni, rubbing against her leg affectionately.
“Aww, baby boy, kya kar rahe ho?” Ishni cooed, bending slightly to pet him.
“Phoenix, jao yahan se… let her eat,” Rudra said, gently nudging the jaguar away.
The animal huffed but stayed near Tara’s chair instead, Tara stiffened her heart dropped.
Because Phoenix suddenly lifted his head… sniffing the air… then turned toward the stairs.
Toward her room.
“Shit…” she whispered under her breath.
If that over-smart cat went upstairs and started scratching her door… Vipul was finished. And so was she.
After dinner, all three of them settled in the hall. The lights were warm and calm, giving the mansion a peaceful, homely feel. Rudra sat on the couch with his laptop resting on his thighs, typing continuously, his sharp eyes focused on work even at this hour.
Across from him, Tara and Ishni were chatting softly, laughing about random things, though Tara’s mind wasn’t really there. Half of her attention was still upstairs… locked inside her room… with one very irritated Vipul hiding in her cupboard.
She kept fidgeting with her fingers, her leg bouncing nervously.
Just then Rudra paused, his brows knitting together as he checked something on his screen. “Ajeeb baat hai… abhi tak contract file nahi poochi. Vipul toh hamesha sab kaam perfect time par kara rha hai,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
Tara’s heart literally stopped.
Before she could even process it, Rudra picked up his phone and started dialing Vipul’s number.
Her eyes widened.
“Ooh no… ab kya hoga…” she thought, panic rushing through her veins. “Hey bhagwan, save us.”
Upstairs, at the exact same moment, Vipul’s phone—still in his pocket—started vibrating loudly inside the silent cupboard.
Bzzzz… bzzzz… bzzzz…
The sound echoed like a bomb.
Vipul froze. “Shit…” he whispered, scrambling to silence it.
Downstairs, Tara forced a fake smile while her soul nearly left her body, praying Rudra wouldn’t notice anything. Her palms turned cold as she stared at the phone in Rudra’s hand, silently begging—please don’t pick up… please don’t pick up…
“Arey Tara, kya hua? Tum theek ho na?” Ishni suddenly asked, noticing how pale her face had turned.
Tara gulped hard, forcing a small smile that didn’t even reach her eyes. “J-ji didi… main theek hoon,” she replied, her voice slightly shaky. Her hands were cold and her heart was beating so fast it felt like it might burst out of her chest.
Rudra glanced at her for a moment, sensing something off, but didn’t think too much about it. “It’s late. Go and rest, Tara,” he said calmly, already looking back at his phone as he dialed Vipul’s number again.
The moment she saw him pressing call, her breath hitched.
“Oh god… again?”
She quickly nodded. “Good night…” she muttered and almost rushed out of the hall, trying not to look suspicious. Her steps were fast, nearly turning into a run as soon as she reached the stairs. Every ring of the phone downstairs felt like a countdown in her head.
“Bas bhagwan… ab bas uska phone silent par ho… warna aaj toh pakdi jaungi,” she thought nervously, climbing the stairs two at a time and praying that Vipul hadn’t done something stupid like leave his phone on loud.
Meanwhile upstairs, Vipul was still half-folded inside Tara’s wardrobe when his phone screen lit up again.
Rudra Calling…
His soul practically left his body.
“Ohh shit shit… aaj toh main gaya kaam se… kya karu, kya karu?!” he whispered aggressively, pacing inside the small space before bumping into the cupboard door. “Calm down, Vipul. Think. THINK!”
The phone kept vibrating in his hand like it was mocking him.
Just then the bedroom door clicked open and Tara rushed inside, quickly shutting it behind her and locking it. She turned around and saw him coming out, standing there with wild eyes and phone in hand.
“Tara… ab kya karu?!” he whispered loudly, panic written all over his face.
She stared at him for a second. “Mujhe kya pata,” she hissed back. “Tum hi hero bante ho window se aane ke.”
“Very funny,” he snapped under his breath. “Boss ka call aa raha hai. Agar pick nahi kiya toh aur doubt hoga!”
“utha lo phir,” she said sarcastically.
“Haan aur kya bolu? ‘Sorry boss, main aapki saali ke cupboard mein chhupa hoon?’” he shot back.
Despite the tension, Tara almost laughed but immediately covered her mouth. “Shhh!”
His phone started ringing again.
Both of them stared at it like it was a ticking bomb.
“Speaker pe laga ke bolo you’re at home,” she whispered quickly.
“Background mein kya? Tera room ka pink wall?” he muttered.
She rolled her eyes and pushed him toward the balcony door. “Balcony mein jao. Bol do network issue tha. Normal behave karo!”
He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. “Agar pakda gaya na…”
“Toh dono pakde jayenge,” she replied he looked at her, this woman is not scared of anything. He thought
The phone rang again. He swallowed hard… and pressed accept.
Vipul quickly sat down on the edge of Tara’s bed, trying to control his breathing. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, glanced at Tara—who was staring at him like her life depended on this call—and then pressed the phone to his ear.
“Yes, boss?” he said, forcing his voice to sound normal.
On the other end, Rudra’s voice came sharp and steady. “Vipul, I’ve been trying to call you for so long. Why didn’t you pick up?”
Vipul gulped, his eyes instinctively shifting toward Tara, who was anxiously clasping her hands together.
“Boss… main woh… actually I was taking a shower,” he replied, praying his voice wouldn’t crack.
There was a pause.
“Shower? At this time?” Rudra asked suspiciously.
“Y-yes, boss,” Vipul answered quickly. “Long day tha… socha fresh ho jaaun.”
Tara pressed her palm against her forehead. Bas bhagwan, please believe him…
Rudra hummed thoughtfully. “Hmm. Fine. Listen, the Italian contract file—why hasn’t it been sent to me yet? That’s not like you.”
Vipul straightened instantly, slipping back into professional mode. “Sorry, boss. I was reviewing some final clauses. I’ll mail it within fifteen minutes.”
“Good,” Rudra said. “And Vipul?”
Vipul stiffened again. “Yes, boss?”
“Everything alright?”
For a split second, Vipul looked at Tara. She was standing there, nervous but also… smiling faintly at him.
“Yes, boss,” he said calmly this time. “Everything’s fine.”
“Alright. Send the file,” Rudra replied before ending the call.
The moment the line disconnected, Vipul exhaled so loudly it was almost dramatic.
“Tara,” he whispered, glaring at her, “I almost died.”
She burst into silent laughter, clutching her stomach.
“Shower? Seriously?”
“Better than saying I’m in your bedroom,” he muttered.
She stepped closer, teasing. “Waise… shower wala excuse thoda filmy tha.”
He narrowed his eyes at her.
“You think this is funny?”
She bit her lip to stop smiling.
Next day
Ishni was in her cabin, reviewing documents, her expression calm but sharp as ever. The glass walls reflected the city skyline behind her.
Knock. Knock.
“Come in,” she said without looking up.
The door opened. A man in a perfectly tailored blue suit walked in calm steps, observant eyes. Ishni finally lifted her gaze.
“Who are you?” she asked, voice steady.
He pulled the chair back and sat down without waiting for permission.
“I’m Vijay Singh. A CBI officer,” he said, placing a leather ID wallet on her desk. “I’m here to discuss something very important.”
Ishni’s eyes flickered to the badge.
“A CBI officer?” she repeated, leaning back slightly. “Interesting. I wasn’t aware I was under investigation.”
Vijay gave a faint smile. “You’re not. Not yet.”
The room went silent.
“Mrs. Rajput,” Vijay continued, his tone lower now, more serious, “I have been working on this case for a very long time. A man from our country is involved in multiple illegal operations—smuggling, human trafficking, His network is powerful… political backing, corporate shielding, underground contacts.”
Ishni didn’t blink.
“And?” she asked calmly. “You’re CBI. Arrest him.
”
Vijay gave a dry smile. “If it were that easy, he’d be behind bars already.
”
He opened the file and turned it toward her.
“Every time we get close… witnesses disappear.
Evidence vanishes. Lawyers withdraw. Judges receive ‘pressure.’"
Ishni’s eyes scanned the papers without visible emotion.
“So what do you want me to do?” she asked again.
“I need a lawyer,” Vijay said firmly.
“To represent the investigation in court for further inquiry orders and asset freezes. I had lawyers before… but they were threatened. Some backed out. Some simply refused. No one dares to stand against him.”
Silence.
The ticking of the wall clock grew louder.
“And you think I will?” Ishni asked softly.
“I think you’re the only one who might.
”
She gave a faint, dangerous smile.
“Flattery won’t work on me, Officer.
”
“This isn’t flattery,” Vijay replied.
“It’s reputation. You destroyed three major corporate fraud cases last year.
You sent a minister’s son to jail despite threats. You don’t bend.”
Her jaw tightened slightly.
“You’ve done your homework.”
“Yes,” he said. “Because the man I’m targeting… is not just a criminal. He’s protected. And if you take this case, I'm sure he'll be behind the bars".
After listening to his explanation and the bold demand that she represent him in court, Ishni folded her hands on the desk and looked straight at Vijay.
“Do you know his name? Or any solid details about him?” she asked, her voice steady, professional.
Vijay exhaled slowly. “Not much. He’s careful. Uses layers of fake identities. Offshore accounts. Shadow companies. We don’t even have a confirmed face.” He paused. “But we did trace one thing.”
Ishni’s fingers tightened slightly. “What?”
“His surname,” Vijay said. “It ends with… Deewana.”
Silence.
The word hit her like a bullet.
Deewana.
For a split second, the world around her faded—the hum of the AC, the city noise outside, even the ticking clock. Her mind went blank.
Deewana.
Memories she had buried deep clawed their way back. Whispers from the past. Blood. Betrayal. A name she never wanted to hear again.