Chapter 6
Exclusive Lounge, Midnight Club – New Delhi
As soon as they settled into their seats, Arundhati exhaled slowly, her mind refocusing on why they were here. The meeting between Anant and Sadhna was about to begin, but before she could fully immerse herself in it, she felt a faint, warm pressure of Kushal’s thigh brushing against hers.
It wasn’t on purpose, she knew that. The seating was compact, the space tight, especially with a party of five occupying the booth. But knowing that didn’t make it any less distracting.
She inched away, creating just enough distance between them, determined to ignore the way her skin still tingled from the contact.
But Kushal?
He leaned in slightly, just close enough for his breath to fan against the shell of her ear.
“Didn’t mean to,” he murmured in a tone so low and husky, it almost didn’t reach her over the music. “But this place is too compact, so… bear with me.”
His voice did things to her. Even now! After all these months! Annoyed at herself for even reacting, she forced her attention forward.
Anant had already started speaking with Maanya and Sadhna, but just as she was about to focus, Kushal leaned in again.
“Why are you so damn hot?”
Her head snapped toward him this time.
He was smirking, biting the inside of his cheek as if suppressing a chuckle. He knew exactly that he was playing with her, riling her up, like he always did.
Her glare should have warned him off.
But of course, this was Kushal Nair.
He simply leaned back a fraction, stretching his arms along the top of the couch with annoyingly relaxed ease before correcting himself.
“I meant your body temperature.” His eyes flickered over her, slowly. “There’s a lot of heat radiating from you tonight. I hope you don’t have a fever. I was just checking.”
Liar.
That was not what he meant the first time, and they both knew it.
He had egoistically flirted with her, but now twisted his words to make it seem like something else, as if she wouldn’t notice.
It was maddening.
But again, this was Kushal.
A man who could say one thing and mean ten different things, making it impossible to tell when he was being serious or when he was simply playing her.
“Are you flirting with me, Kushal?”
There was a pause.
A beat too long, a stare too intense.
His gaze locked with hers before he simply smirked.
“Not interested.”
Her blood boiled as he casually sipped his drink as if the entire exchange really meant nothing to him.
He had baited her into asking, pushed her to react, and then, he shut her down with two words, dripping in disinterest.
It wasn’t just rejection. He was playing with her, and the worst part? He was winning. Swallowing back the frustration burning in her throat, Arundhati forced herself to ignore him.
She turned her focus, snapping back to Anant and Sadhna’s conversation, trying to block out the lingering heat of Kushal’s presence beside her.
“Why did you want to meet me, Sadhna?” Anant asked.
Sadhna, ever the performer, moulded her expression into that of a victim.
“You know our relationship has reached a point of no return, Anant,” she said. “There’s no way to make it right again.”
Anant scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. “I don’t want to make things right with you. Not after the allegations you’ve thrown at me.”
She sat up straighter. “And those allegations are true. I didn’t lie.”
Kushal and Arundhati, seated next to him, watched the exchange in silence, their legal minds dissecting every word, every gesture.
“That’s not true,” Anant countered, his voice rising. “I never assaulted you. Our marriage may have been flawed, but I never crossed that line.”
“Oh, really?” Sadhna snapped. “Then what about that Diwali night when you raised your hand on me?”
Anant’s patience snapped like a brittle twig. “I didn’t slap you, Sadhna! I was angry because you were insulting my parents, degrading them! You didn’t stop even when I asked you repeatedly, so I—”
Kushal gripped Anant’s wrist under the table. His silent warning was clear. Don’t confess. Don’t give them leverage.
Across from them, Maanya smirked. Kushal met her gaze briefly, acknowledging her attempt to bait Anant into saying something incriminating. He leaned back, exhaling slowly before speaking.
“You don’t have to explain yourself, Anant. Not here.”
Then, turning to Sadhna, he let his words roll out smoothly.
“This might be your first divorce, but for us?” Kushal gestured towards himself and Arundhati.
“We’ve handled hundreds. We’ve seen every trick in the book—allegations, fabrications, twisted narratives designed to extract a fortune.
But none of it matters unless it’s proven in court. Isn’t that right, Maanya?”
Maanya’s smirk deepened, but she said nothing. Sadhna, however, bristled.
“Oh, really? Then what about the accusations you and your firm have made against me? That I manipulated financial records? That I fabricated scandals? You want to talk about truth?”
Arundhati, who had been quietly assessing every move, leaned in now.
“And even those will be proven in court, Sadhna,” she said. “But you already knew that. Which is why you didn’t just come here to ‘talk.’ You came with a plan.”
“I didn’t come here with any plan. I just wanted to speak to Anant.” Sadhna gritted her teeth.
“If that’s so, then let’s stop running in circles and get to the real reason you asked Anant to meet you,” Arundhati said, leaning back again to hear her out.
Sadhna glanced at Maanya once. It was subtle, just a quick exchange of looks, but both Kushal and Arundhati caught it. It felt like a silent cue, like a plan unfolding.
Then Sadhna sighed dramatically and turned back to them.
“Divorce cases don’t have to be this ugly, this public,” she said, trying to sound almost reasonable.
“Let’s settle this quietly. Pay me the alimony I deserve, and we can end this without dragging each other through the mud.
” She let the last words hang, letting their weight settle over Anant.
“I don’t want the torture I endured in our marriage to be exposed in the media.
It wouldn’t just ruin me, but you, too. We can walk away clean. ”
Anant’s temper flared. “You’re asking me to pay you a fortune for a marriage that fell apart because of your own manipulations!” His fists clenched. “Why the hell should I?”
The argument ignited again, accusations flung back and forth. Suddenly, Kushal’s slow clap cut through the air. The sound was mocking, but it drew the table’s attention to him for sure.
“Well played,” he murmured, eyes gleaming as he looked at Maanya and Sadhna. “Really. That was a solid move.”
“What move?” Maanya asked.
“You and your client are scared now,” he said, then turned to Sadhna.
“The moment Verma & Associates took over Anant’s case, you knew you were in trouble.
You knew we’d dissect every one of your claims and expose the lies.
You knew your chances of walking away with a hefty alimony were shrinking by the second.
So, you got desperate. And Maanya, being the brilliant strategist she is, gave you this plan to manipulate Anant into losing his temper, make him say something incriminating, something that could be twisted in court. ”
Sadhna stiffened. “That’s ridiculous. I’d no such intentions.”
“Really? You had no such intentions?” Arundhati cut in this time, her eyes locking onto Maanya’s blazer. She reached over and plucked something small from the fabric—a brooch.
It was a spy camera.
Anant froze.
Kushal chuckled under his breath, stretching back in his seat as he watched Maanya and Sadhna’s expressions morph from confidence to horror.
Arundhati’s fingers closed around the tiny device before she crushed it in her palm, letting the broken pieces clatter onto the table.
“It was almost clever,” Arundhati said, tilting her head slightly.
“To record Anant’s words, twist them, manipulate him into saying something he never meant to.
But here’s the thing, Sadhna—” she stood, “—we’re lawyers.
And we’ve seen this game played before. It may have worked for others, but not against Verma & Associates. Not against Kushal and me.”
Her eyes flickered to Kushal’s, and for a split second, their gaze held a mutual respect, a reminder of how seamlessly they worked as a team.
“So, what’s next?” Kushal added, his gaze shifting between Maanya and Sadhna. “You walk away with your little scheme shattered, or do you want to keep playing?”
Anant exhaled sharply, standing as well. “I can’t believe you’d stoop this low, Sadhna. I should’ve known better.”
Kushal clapped Anant on the back before rising up and turning to Sadhna. “Next time? Don’t even think about meeting Anant outside of court.”
Sadhna, already annoyed, stormed out first. Anant, equally furious, followed close behind. Maanya, however, lingered and turned to Kushal.
“Don’t mind,” she drawled, tilting her chin in that arrogant way she always did when she thought she had control. “I only did what was best for my client. And besides…” Her eyes gleamed as she looked at him. “I learned from the best.”
Kushal didn’t even flinch.
“Not everyone can play the game like me,” he countered. “Next time? Try something original rather than copying from the best.”
Her smirk faltered. Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked away, barely containing her rage. Kushal exhaled, shaking his head before turning to Arundhati who was still watching Maanya’s retreating form. When she finally tore her gaze away, she found Kushal watching her instead.
Kushal stepped closer, leaning in just enough for his breath to fan against her ear. “Everyone sees the best in me,” he murmured with teasing arrogance. “But you? You only see what you want to. Maybe it’s easier that way. Maybe it keeps you from admitting the truth that I am the best.”
Arundhati rolled her eyes at his overconfidence, then turned on her heel and walked out. Kushal just followed.