Chapter 5
Verma & Associates office – Next Day
Arundhati stormed into her cabin, barely managing to stop herself from slamming the door shut. Her heart was still pounding, her thoughts running in endless circles, and her mind? Completely scattered.
Yesterday’s divorce trial had not gone as planned.
She had walked into that courtroom expecting to prove, with solid arguments and evidence, that their marriage was nothing but a convenient arrangement.
That it had been nothing more than a stepping stone for Kushal, a means to secure his future at Verma & Associates.
And yet, he had turned the entire situation around. He had effortlessly twisted the narrative to his advantage and turned it against her. The next hearing was scheduled a month later, which meant she would have to deal with Kushal longer than she had planned.
But that wasn’t what had kept her up all night.
No.
It was his words.
“I want both—Verma & Associates because I damn well deserve to be its head in the future… and you as my wife… because you are too good for my ego.”
Her stomach twisted in anger.
What the hell was that even supposed to mean? Did he actually believe she would fall for his words? That she would forget the months of cold indifference, the way he had ignored her very existence every single day in that office? And everything else that she had gotten to know about him?
She let out a sharp exhale, walked toward her desk, and dropped her case files with force.
Suddenly, her gaze landed on something unexpected.
A bouquet of freshly bloomed red roses sat elegantly at the centre of her desk.
She frowned.
Her mind replayed the words Kushal had so shamelessly uttered in court yesterday:
“Your Honor, I had no idea my wife’s biggest complaint was that I don’t look at her enough. If I’d known, I would’ve stared at her more often… maybe even sent her flowers.”
Did he actually think she would find this funny? That she would entertain his infuriating little games?
Fuming, she grabbed her phone and immediately dialled his extension.
No answer.
Typical.
With a sigh, she pressed another number on the intercom. Moments later, her peon entered, standing hesitantly at the doorway.
“Where is Mr. Nair?” she demanded, arms crossed tightly over her chest.
“Ma’am, he hasn’t arrived yet,” the peon informed her.
She inhaled deeply, dismissing him with a wave of her hand.
Fine. If he wasn’t in the office yet, she would make sure he answered her anyway.
She scrolled through her contacts, found his number, and hit the video call button.
Within two rings, the screen lit up with his face.
Sunglasses on. Driving.
Casual as ever. Infuriatingly gorgeous.
The first two buttons of his black shirt were undone, giving a teasing glimpse of his smooth, tanned skin.
Kushal mostly rolled up his shirt sleeves while driving, she knew, which exposed his forearms—strong, lean, with veins running down the length, flexing subtly as he maneuvered the steering wheel with ease.
His long and deft fingers gripped the wheel lazily. A thick, luxurious watch wrapped against his wrist, its expensive sheen catching the light. His designer sunglasses only added to the carefree arrogance that dripped off him.
He looked like a hero out of a movie…dangerous, confident, the kind of man women didn’t just look at, but stared at.
And he knew it.
Because the moment their eyes met through the screen, his lips curled into the faintest smirk, as if he could already sense her frustration from miles away.
As if he enjoyed it.
The sight of him, looking so effortlessly relaxed while she was on the verge of losing her mind, only fuelled her anger.
Before he could even speak, she launched straight into an attack.
“How dare you send me flowers?” she snapped.
“Don’t try these manipulative tricks on me, Kushal.
It’s not going to work. Whatever game you’re playing, save it for someone else.
If you think you can irritate me with this childishness, you’re sorely mistaken.
And let me make one thing clear. These flowers are going straight to the dustbin the second I end this call! ”
He didn’t react.
Didn’t blink.
Didn’t even acknowledge her rage the way she wanted him to.
Instead, he smiled.
“I didn’t send you any flowers.”
He didn’t? F*ck!
“What? You didn’t?” she asked, momentarily thrown off.
He glanced at the road briefly, his grip firm on the steering wheel as he took a smooth turn, before meeting her gaze through the screen.
“I didn’t know you were expecting me to send some to you, Mrs. Nair.”
Her stomach tightened, but her anger pushed back harder.
“Don’t twist my words, Kushal,” she seethed, gripping the phone tighter.
His smirk remained as he adjusted his sunglasses.
“I don’t waste my time and energy buying gifts and flowers for people who don’t value them.”
The way he said it, so carelessly, so detached, sent a fresh wave of irritation rushing through her.
She opened her mouth to retaliate, but before she could, he sighed as if he were indulging a particularly annoying child.
“I’m driving,” he added lazily. “See you at the office in a while.”
And just like that, he disconnected.
Arundhati stared at her phone, beyond frustrated.
She had actually presumed that he had sent the flowers.
What was wrong with her?
Before she could stew in her frustration any longer, she heard her uncle’s voice from behind her.
“Aru?”
Raj Verma stood at the doorway, watching her with an amused expression. His smile widened as his gaze flickered to the bouquet on her desk.
“Did you like the flowers?”
She blinked.
“Wait… you sent them?”
“Yes,” he said simply. “After yesterday’s court session, I thought you could use a little cheering up.”
Her stomach plummeted as his smirk deepened.
“Who did you think sent them?”
Her entire face burned.
“No one,” she snapped quickly. Too quickly. But she was certain her uncle had figured out exactly who she had assumed the flowers were from.
Raj folded his arms.
“Aru, what’s wrong?”
“You’re asking me what’s wrong?” she burst. “You saw what happened in court yesterday, uncle. You heard everything!”
Raj sighed.
“That poor guy was only trying to save this marriage.”
“That poor guy only wants Verma & Associates!”
“And?” Raj countered. “Is it so wrong to have both personal and professional ambitions from this relationship?”
She took a step back.
“Yes, it is wrong. It’s not okay,” she snapped. “Had I known from the start that Kushal agreed to marry me because he wanted Verma & Associates, I would have never said yes to this marriage.”
Silence.
Before Raj could reply, they heard Kushal’s voice.
“Good to know.”
He was standing at the doorway now and had definitely heard everything. For a moment, their eyes locked, and like every time, tension thickened between them.
But instead of reacting, Kushal merely straightened his black coat, his gaze glancing at her uncle before settling on her again.
“If you both are done with your personal grievances, we have more important things to handle. Get in the meeting room now. Anant is here.”
And then, without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked away.
Arundhati fumed as she turned to her uncle.
“You saw? You saw his attitude?” she seethed. “Does he look like the same man who was fighting to save his marriage in the courtroom yesterday? If he wants me in his life, why does he throw so much arrogance and indifference my way all the time?”
Raj sighed, rubbing his forehead.
“I’ll talk to him later, Aru. Right now, handle Anant’s case.”
Her jaw locked.
Without another word, she grabbed her case files and stormed toward the meeting room.
******************
Arundhati pushed open the glass door of the meeting room. Anant sat restlessly in his chair, fingers drumming against the wooden surface of the table.
But it wasn’t Anant who made her stop in her tracks.
It was Kushal, sitting arrogantly in her chair.
His back was relaxed against the leather, one arm resting lazily along the edge of the table, his long legs stretched out comfortably, as if this were his domain and she had just walked into his territory.
Of course, he would sit there—like he owned the space, like he belonged there more than she did.
She strode forward, greeting Anant first before turning her full wrath on the man occupying her seat.
“That’s my chair.”
Kushal didn’t even bother looking up right away. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, as if enjoying her irritation, before finally meeting her gaze.
“I know.” His smirk deepened. “And I also know you won’t mind if I sit here.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“I do mind.”
He lifted a brow, amusement dancing in his dark gaze.
“As much as I’d love to continue this ownership dispute, we have bigger things to focus on.” He gestured toward Anant. “He has something serious to discuss. So rather than wasting time on a chair, why don’t you take a seat?”
Kushal pulled out another chair beside him for her. Deliberately, she walked over to the opposite side of the table, grabbed a chair from as far away from him as possible, and sat down smoothly.
“I’m better seated far from you,” she said flatly, crossing her legs.
“Good for me,” he mused, leaning back slightly. “At least I can focus.”
Her brows furrowed.
Focus?
Focus on what?
Her?
Because she was sitting right in front of him now?
There was something suggestive and smug in his tone, like he was baiting her into reacting.
But before she could analyse it further, Anant let out a long, exhausted sigh.
“Guys,” he muttered, rubbing his forehead. “I get that you two are at war, but can we please not do this right now? I could really use some help.”
Arundhati composed herself instantly.
“What happened?” she asked.
Anant ran a hand through his hair before finally speaking.
“Sadhna messaged me this morning,” he said, his voice edged with disbelief. “She wants to meet. In private. At her house.”