Chapter 2 #2
“We’re not fabricating anything,” he said confidently. “We’re controlling the narrative. It’s what the opposition is doing. We’re just doing it better. And right now, this isn’t about what’s right or wrong. It’s about saving Anant.”
Arundhati angrily turned to Anant once more.
“Are you sure about this?” she asked. “You really want to add false evidence? Fabricate scandals? Twist the truth?”
Kushal, still leaning against the desk, folded his arms across his chest, watching the conversation, as if he knew exactly what was going to happen next.
Anant ran a hand through his hair, his expression weighed down by exhaustion and desperation.
“I don’t have a choice, Arundhati.” He finally replied.
“Right now, my reputation is at stake. Everything that I have built and earned so far…my career, my name, my entire legacy, Sadhna is tearing it apart one false claim at a time. If I let her continue, I won’t just lose this case, I’ll lose everything. ”
He sighed, rubbing his temples.
“So yes,” he said finally. “Let’s go with Kushal’s way.”
Kushal smirked.
His knuckles rapped gently against the desk, which only added to Arundhati’s frustration.
Just then, Anant’s phone buzzed loudly on the table. He glanced at the caller ID, his expression shifting to one of urgency.
“I need to take this call—excuse me,” he said, already pushing back his chair.
Without another word, he strode toward the door, stepping outside, leaving only the two of them in the room.
Arundhati broke the silence first.
“I hadn’t expected anything different from you today.”
Kushal sighed, exasperated, running a hand through his already perfectly styled hair.
“You can really go to any extent to win, can’t you?”
She should have been used to this side of him—the strategist, the manipulator, the man who never played fair—but tonight, something about it crawled under her skin more than usual.
“Call it what you want,” he mused, pushing off the desk. “But at the end of the day, no one cares how you play the game. They only remember who won.”
Arundhati stepped forward, standing right in front of him.
“Yeah, right,” she scoffed. “No one remembers how you play the game… but they still know, don’t they? Just like everyone here in this office knows why you married me in the first place, Kushal.”
His jaw tightened.
She leaned in just a fraction.
“To be the next heir of this office. Of Verma & Associates. To make my uncle hand over this firm to you once he plans his retirement.”
Kushal’s eyes burned into hers.
“And what’s wrong with that?” he asked, his jaw clenched, his shoulders tense, but his expression? Unapologetic. “What’s wrong if your uncle thinks I’m the best person to handle this firm after his retirement?”
“Are you jealous, Arundhati?” he taunted. “Because technically, it should be you, shouldn’t it? You’re his heiress, after all.”
Her blood boiled.
She hated how effortlessly he twisted the narrative, how he could strike where it hurt the most without a moment’s hesitation.
She wanted to snap back, to throw the truth in his face, but she didn’t.
She wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.
But Kushal wasn’t done.
“Where were you,” he continued, mockingly, “when Raj Uncle needed your support to take this firm to newer heights?”
Her fingers curled into fists, but she didn’t break eye contact.
“It was me,” Kushal pressed, taking another step closer. “Always me who stood by him. And if not all, I do have a major share in this firm, its reputation, its success. The reason Verma & Associates is where it is today? I played a damn big role in that.”
While her breath hitched, her face remained unreadable.
“And whilst all this was happening… you were in Bangalore, working for some other firm. Not wanting to ‘favour your uncle’s nepotism.’”
Arundhati’s temper flared.
“Yes, I didn’t want people to think I was getting favours or cases only because of my uncle,” she shot back. “I wanted to make my own way up, Kushal. Unlike you, who saw an opportunity and didn’t let it waste.”
His smirk faded, his expression darkening.
“The moment my uncle proposed to you to marry me, you jumped and grabbed that opportunity. At once.”
He opened his mouth to retaliate, but just then, a sharp cough echoed from the doorway, and they both froze.
Raj Verma stood there, arms crossed, glaring at them.
Shit.
The room felt smaller all of a sudden.
“I can’t believe you both started this again.” Raj’s eyes flickered between them, disappointed, tired, but not surprised.
Neither of them spoke.
“You have a client outside who can walk in at any moment, and you two are fighting like cats and dogs?”
“Sorry,” Arundhati said quickly. “This won’t happen again.”
Kushal turned to her, but instead of saying sorry, his voice dripped in sarcasm.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “You should be sorry… for digging up old graves.”
His eyes darkened slightly as he added.
“And that too in the wrong direction.”
Her fury spiked again. But before she could react, he turned and walked out. The door clicked shut behind him. She stood still, the room suffocatingly silent except for the rapid beat of her own heart.
Raj Verma sighed, running a hand down his face.
“I need you both to focus. If you can’t handle working together, I need to know now.”
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to nod.
“I’ll handle it,” she said, more to herself than to him.
But deep down?
She knew that was a lie.
Because as much as she wanted to handle Kushal Nair, the truth was… he was the only battle she had never been able to win.