Love's Unforseen Turn

Chapter-54

Get ready for a deep dive—this one’s over 6.5k words long.....

The clock in the hallway struck nine, its deep chime echoing softly through the marble corridors of the Rathore estate.

In the living room, Bade Papa sat with his reading glasses perched low on his nose, going through the invitation for the charity gala.

Badi Maa sat beside him, her expression thoughtful as she sipped her evening tea.

Abhimanyu stood near the window, arms folded, his gaze fixed on his phone but ears tuned to the conversation.

"This year’s guest list is heavier than usual," Bade Papa said quietly, looking at badi ma. "My brother in law, dear home Minister himself is attending."

Abhimanyu's eyes narrowed just slightly. "Because elections are near," he said, his voice calm, detached. "Good PR for the party."

"Exactly," Bade Papa nodded. "Everyone’s eyes will be there. Security will be tight. Keep that in mind."

Abhimanyu gave a small nod.

Badi Maa looked up from the card and turned toward him. "Is Aarushi prepared? Has she selected what she’ll wear for tomorrow?"

"She has," Abhimanyu replied, his tone even. "She’s been ready since yesterday."

Badi Maa smiled faintly. "That’s good. She should look her best. She’ll represent the family too."

Abhimanyu didn’t respond to that. He simply acknowledged the comment with a quiet look, then turned slightly toward the hallway.

"I will take my leave , Good night,"he said.

And without waiting for a reply, he walked away, the soft sound of his footsteps fading down the corridor.

As he approached his room, he pushed open the door quietly, his fingers still brushing the wood when his brows lifted at the sight before him.

There, in the middle of their bed, stood Aarushi. Quite stood—on her knees first, then trying to lift one leg up while balancing her body with her arms.

"What in the world...?" he muttered, amused.

Aarushi tried again, her arms trembling a bit as she kicked her leg up in the air.

Instead of defying gravity like the yoga girl in the reel she'd seen, she rolled off the mattress with a soft thud, landing in an ungraceful sprawl of tangled limbs and hair.

Abhimanyu chuckled, unable to hold it in this time.

Startled, Aarushi shot him a glare from where she lay, her hair fluffed like a lion's mane.

"You scared me" she exclaimed, scrambling upright.

Abhimanyu leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a lopsided smirk playing on his lips. "I should be the one scared. Came in expecting a calm wife—found a human tornado attempting acrobatics."

"I’m not a tornado," she said, brushing her hair back with exaggerated elegance, "I’m trying to do a headstand."

"A headstand?" he raised a brow and walked in, shutting the door behind him. "Dare I ask why?"

She picked up her phone from the side and showed him a paused reel of a girl effortlessly posing upside down.

"They say it boosts brain power! Something about reversing blood flow. One reel said it can make you smarter. You know… clarity, creativity, genius wife type."

Abhimanyu chuckled as he perched on the edge of the bed. "So this is your master plan to defeat me in business someday?"

"Exactly," she grinned. "Better start preparing your resignation letter, Mr. Rathore."

He shook his head, eyes fond. "Sweetheart, if you ever take over Rathore Industries, I’d be the happiest retired man alive. But let’s leave the headstands to people with a yoga mat and a death wish."

"Don’t be mean" she swatted his arm. "I almost had it."

"You almost had a broken nose."

She pouted, her lips twitching. "Then help me. Just one try."

He leaned back and dramatically surveyed her head to toe. "No baby"

"Abhi"she requested again.

"No. My wife doing a WWE stunt on our bed is not how I want this evening to go."

"You’re such a buzzkill."

"And you," he stood, brushing his fingers along her cheek with a teasing grin, "are a walking hazard. Let me go freshen up first. Don’t break the bed—or your neck—while I’m gone."

As he disappeared into the bathroom, Aarushi again started scrolling through her phone and fell back on the bed with a loud sigh.

After some time ~

Later that night, after both had changed into their sleepwear and dimmed the lights, the atmosphere in the room turned softer.

The curtains billowed gently with the breeze, and the rhythmic ticking of the clock filled the quiet.

Abhimanyu lay behind her, the bedsheet loosely pulled up to their waists, his arm casually draped around her waist.

Aarushi felt his warmth press against her back—steady, solid, familiar.

She let out a content sigh, ready to close her eyes, but then... she felt it.

His hand, resting innocently a second ago, began to wander under her shirt.

Fingers tracing delicate patterns along her stomach, slow and languid, as if testing her response.

Her eyes flew open, and without turning around, she placed her hand firmly on top of his, stopping the mischief in its tracks.

"No," she said softly, almost amused.

"No?" he echoed, lips near her ear, his voice laced with playful disappointment.

"No. I have school tomorrow, and then that charity event. I can’t be dragging myself around looking like a sleep-deprived zombie." She said.

Abhimanyu groaned dramatically and nuzzled into the crook of her neck. "Please? Just one round. Promise."

Aarushi turned slightly to give him a look. "Do you even believe yourself when you say that?"

He pulled back just enough to pout at her, lips exaggerated. "Come on, baby. You ignored me the whole day! You were out with Navya all morning, then ran off with Badi Maa and the stylists, and I didn’t even get a proper kiss."

Aarushi raised a brow. "I kissed you before I left."

"That doesn’t count" he said . "That was a dry, formal goodbye-kiss. Not a love-kiss."

She laughed under her breath, turning fully to face him. "Oh really? You rate my kisses now?"

'I’ve always rated them," he said with mock seriousness. "And right now, I’m at zero kisses, zero attention, zero love. Your husband is suffering, jaan.

He is touch-starved and a little desperate.Do you want that on your conscience?"

She smirked and shook her head, brushing her fingers against his cheek. "You’re so dramatic."

"You’re so heartless."

She kissed his nose. "I’m saving your energy. Tomorrow you have to schmooze with the many people"

He rolled his eyes. "I’d rather stay home and be loved by you."

"You won’t stop at one round," she accused, narrowing her eyes.

He gasped in mock offense. "I will! I swear on… on my business shares!"

"Lies."

"Okay, okay… maybe two rounds. But that’s it."

"Nope. Not tonight."

With that, she turned away again, snuggling into her pillow.

"Fine. Reject me. Break my heart.You won’t even let your husband love you."Abhimanyu huffed behind her and flopped back dramatically, his arm no longer around.

Aarushi felt the cold absence and peeked behind her. He was laying flat, staring at the ceiling like he’d just been betrayed by the love of his life.

She shook her head and rolled back. "Oh come on, don’t sulk like a child."

"I’m not sulking."

"You so are. Look at your face."

"I’m just… heartbroken."

She laughed and tried to pull his arm back around her. He resisted. "I thought you loved me."

"Abhi" she warned with a chuckle, "you’re acting like I refused you food."

"Worse. You refused me you."

That made her laugh even harder. "You really think I’m going to fall for this emotional blackmail?"

"I was hoping so."

She sighed and turned, back facing him"Fine. Be mad. I’ll sleep. Goodnight."

Abhimanyu stayed still for a beat longer, then peeked over his shoulder to check if she’d really turned away. She had. And now she was snuggling into the blanket, pretending to ignore him.

With a low breath, he scooted closer. His arm reached forward and slowly snaked around her waist again, pulling her into his chest.

"You gave up too easily," he murmured into her ear.

"I knew you’d come back," she teased, a smile in her voice.

He bit her cheek lightly, making her squeal. "You’re too smug."

"And you’re too needy."

"Oh, you love it."

She laughed again, warm and light. He tightened his grip, planting a wet kiss on her cheek.

"Sleep," he said gruffly. "If you say one more word, I swear I’ll—"

"You’ll what?" she challenged softly.

"I won’t listen to you anymore."he warned.

"Oh please," she scoffed, "you’ll always listen I know "

He turned her gently, facing him now, and looked into her eyes.

"Don’t tempt me,jaan"

"I’m not," she whispered. "You’re the one biting me."

He chuckled low and leaned forward, kissing her. Softly, then deeper. Her hands curled around his neck and he kissed her.

When they finally pulled apart, Aarushi yawned against his chest. "Now sleep," she whispered.

Abhimanyu wrapped his arms tighter around her and buried his face in her neck.

They fell asleep like that—wrapped in warmth, playful affection, and the unspoken comfort of being each other’s home.

The soft rustle of silk echoed in the room as I adjusted the pleats of my saree for the third time, sighing into the mirror.

Now as I stood before the dresser, slipping in delicate earrings and trying to balance the elegance of a saree with the tension of heels, my phone buzzed beside the mirror.

"Mumma" lit up the screen.

A soft smile curled on my lips. I quickly swiped to answer, adjusting the phone between my ear and shoulder as I clipped on the final earring.

"Hello, Maa?" I chirped.

There was a beat of silence, only the sound of her shallow breath on the other side.

"Hello, beta…" her voice was unusually low. "Are you alright?"

I paused, lowering my hand that was reaching for the bangles. "Yes? I’m fine, Maa. Why do you sound so tensed?"

Another moment of silence. That hesitation—that familiar motherly instinct, as if she could feel something off from miles away.

"I... had a dream this morning," she said softly, almost ashamed of admitting it. "It was disturbing. I can’t remember it clearly, but it was... dark. And I woke up with this heavy feeling in my chest. Since then, I’ve been restless. Just wanted to hear your voice."

A strange tightness gripped my heart. I glanced at my reflection. Was that a flicker of unease in my eyes? I shook it away.

"Oh, Mumma," I said gently, sinking down onto the edge of the bed. "You always dream weird things when you sleep after sunrise. You know that. You’re just overthinking."

"I know," she whispered, but I could tell she didn’t fully believe it. "Still... you’re sure you’re okay? No fights, no stress?"

"Everything’s fine, I promise. In fact, I’m getting ready right now." I said

"For what?" She inquired.

"There’s a charity event today. Some big event. Abhi and I have to go together—it’s important for the family. All the high-profile people will be there. Your samdhi-saas is already nervous about the media" I chuckled lightly.

"Hm..." she said, but her tone hadn’t lightened. "Be careful, Aarushi."

I smiled softly. "Don’t worry, Maa. Abhi will be with me. He won’t let anything happen to me. He gets all scary and protective the moment I so much as sneeze in public."

That finally made her chuckle. "That’s true."

I could imagine her sitting on the sofa, her hand wrapped tightly around her dupatta, the phone cradled against her cheek. I wished I could reach through the line and hold her hand.

"Mumma," I said, "I’m okay. And once this event is done, I’ll call you, okay? I promise. Don’t think too much."

"You better call," she sniffled. "And send me a picture. I want to see how pretty you look."

I laughed. "Okay, okay. I’ll send you one before leaving."

"Okay, bete... take care. And..." she paused again, the worry crawling back into her tone, "Just… stay close to Abhimanyu, alright?"

My heart tugged at her fear, but I masked it with warmth. "Okay mumma"

I ended the call with a soft smile and a tight chest.

But as I set the phone down and turned back to the mirror, that unease lingered somewhere deep within me. A soft whisper. A ghost of a warning.

I blinked at my reflection, straightened my shoulders, and picked up my clutch.

Everything will be fine… I told myself.

It had to be.

The sharp click of my heels echoed through the marble-floored hallway as I descended the stairs, each step deliberate and graceful. My heart fluttered with the familiar rush of nerves that always accompanied these social events.

I adjusted the pleats of my saree with a light touch, making sure the fall was neat as I reached the last few steps.

And then I saw them.

"Aarushi beta…" Bade Papa’s voice wrapped around me like a warm shawl. "You look… elegant."

Chacha ji stood beside him, smiling kindly. "And graceful"

I smiled softly and thanked them "Thank you, Bade Papa… Chacha ji."

Badi Ma came forward and gently caressed me hairs Her eyes softened as she looked at me. "This color really suits you,. I was just telling everyone — she’ll outshine half the socialites there."

I smiled, a bit shy. "You’re all being too kind."

"No, we’re just being honest," Chachi added with a playful glint in her eyes. "Abhimanyu will have to keep his eyes peeled tonight. His wife might give the reporters something else to talk about."

Everyone laughed, and I did too — But even as a smile touched my lips, my eyes swept over the room once more, searching for him.

I wished he were here. He had left earlier, promising he’d meet me there, saying he had a few arrangements to make.

Just then, one of the house staff entered. "Ma’am, the car is ready. Sir's PA is waiting outside."

"Let’s not keep him waiting," Bade Papa said with a proud smile. "Go ahead, beta. And don’t worry — everything will go smoothly."

I smiled, nodded, and turned toward the main door. The chandelier’s golden light above shimmered across the subtle sequins of my saree, making it glow with each step.

I took a deep breath. I had attended one or two functions like this with Abhi before, but still... some feelings never completely faded — like the flutter of nerves right before stepping into a crowded social event.

Outside, the air was crisp. Aakash was already standing beside the car, holding the door open. He straightened and gave me a polite smile.

"Good evening, ma’am."

"Good evening and thank you" I replied, slipping into the back seat. The door shut with a gentle click, sealing in the silence.

As the car pulled away from the mansion gates, I stared out at the road ahead. Slowly but surely, that old familiar anxiety began to creep in.

My fingers toyed with the edge of my pallu. Crowds. Eyes. Questions. Flashes.

Why was it always this hard?

"Sir will be waiting at the back entrance, ma’am. I’ll walk you in."Aakash’s voice cut through my thoughts, calm and clear

I glanced up at the rear-view mirror and caught his eyes for a second "Okay"

He nodded slightly and added, "Media is only stationed outside, ma’am. They haven’t been allowed inside. There’ll just be some official photographers for coverage. The event itself is private and well managed."

I let out a soft breath. "That’s honestly a relief."

"I figured it might be," he said, a hint of reassurance in his voice. "You don’t need to worry. The guest list is tight, security is structured, and sir will be there with you the moment you enter. I’ll be with you till then."

I smiled faintly, shifting my gaze to the window. The city was glowing. Cars zipped by. Billboards flashed by in blurs of color. "I always feel a little anxious before things like this. Social events."

There was a pause before he replied. "You’re not alone in that, ma’am. It happens to many — even the most experienced."

I chuckled under my breath. "I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or worse."

He laughed lightly. "It should make you feel human, ma’am." I felt my shoulders relax without even realizing it.

I leaned back, letting the quiet hum of the car lull my nerves. Maybe… maybe tonight would go fine.

The closer we got to the venue, the louder it got outside. Barricades. Camera flashes. Reporters. A swarm at the front gate.

But Aakash didn’t stop there. He turned into a narrow barricaded lane that circled the building.

The back entrance.

A guard, recognizing the car, gave a signal, and the gate opened slowly.

"Here we are, ma’am," Aakash said, stepping out. He opened my door gently.

I gathered my saree and stepped out. The back corridor was quiet, lit with warm yellow lights. The night air had a slight chill, but it felt grounding.

"Sir should be right inside," Aakash said, walking beside me. "It’s quiet from here on."

I looked at him, genuinely grateful. "Thank you for the ride, Aakash. And… the talk."

He gave a small smile. "Always here to assist, ma’am." I turned back toward the corridor.

My heart, which had been racing earlier, now beat slower… steadier.

And the moment I stepped more into the corridor, I saw him.

Abhi.

He was standing near the entrance to the main hall, tall and effortlessly poised in that classic black bandhgala — the fabric crisp, the fit perfect, his presence magnetic.

But it wasn’t just how handsome he looked. It was that he was him — the man who had unknowingly become my everything.

As soon as his eyes landed on me, something shifted. The tension in my shoulders eased, the mild flutter in my chest softened.

He walked toward me, his steps confident and purposeful. When he reached me, he stopped for a beat — just looking.

With that signature quiet intensity, he smiled and murmured, "You are looking so gorgeous sweetheart"

At the exact same moment, the words slipped from my lips: “You are looking incredible handsome today"

We both blinked, registering what had just happened. And then — we smiled.

He chuckled, lowering his head to press a gentle kiss to my forehead. "Jinx," he murmured against my skin.

I laughed softly. "Guess we’re in sync."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes glinting. "We always are."

The way he said it made my heart do a slow, graceful flip. And then his hands — warm and sure — gently cradled my face, thumbs brushing against my cheeks. His touch was soft, but the emotion behind it felt anything but.

"You okay?" he asked, watching me carefully.

I nodded. "A little fluttery… but I’m fine."

His hand slid down to mine, fingers intertwining. "You don’t have to be nervous. It’s a tight guest list, the media is outside, and I’ll be right next to you the whole time."

I exhaled slowly. "You make it sound so simple." He smiled. "Because it is. You’re going to walk in there and steal every glance in the room. And I’ll be right behind you, pretending I’m not insanely proud."

That made me smile — a real one. The kind that reached my eyes and he grinned, bringing our joined hands to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of mine.

Then he offered his arm. "Shall we, Mrs. Rathore?" Looping my hand through his, I nodded.

The corridor led us to the entrance of the grand ballroom. Soft music and the murmur of conversations floated out.

The murmurs increased the moment we crossed the threshold of the ballroom.

Soft whispers. Brief glances. The kind that make your spine straighten and your breath catch.

We hadn’t even taken more than a few steps in when I noticed it — the slight hush that followed us, the way people’s attention shifted toward us like moths drawn to something glowing.

I instinctively tightened by hold on his arm. "Everyone’s looking," I whispered under my breath.

Abhimanyu didn’t flinch. His voice was calm, close to my ear. "They are not looking,they are admiring you, let them" I sighed at his words.

The ballroom was decked in opulence — chandeliers hanging like crystal rain, soft golden lights casting warmth over polished floors. Politicians, industrialists, celebrities... the crowd was thick with power and vanity.

And in the center of it all, already surrounded by cameras and flattery, stood Home Minister Vishnu Shekhawat.

He didn’t notice us at first — too busy posing with a group of businessmen, smiling with a well-practiced curve of his lips.

That same distant charm I had seen on television. You wouldn’t guess he was Badi Ma’s elder brother unless someone told you — he didn’t carry the warmth of a family man, only the ambition of a seasoned politician.

Abhimanyu’s hand slid gently to my back as we walked further in. "He’s already working the crowd," he muttered.

I gave a slight nod, watching Vishnu Shekhawat laugh at something a young politician said. He didn’t look towards us until one of his aides whispered something in his ear.

Then, he turned.

"Abhimanyu," he greeted, his voice loud enough for a few cameras nearby to pick up. "You’ve arrived."

He nodded at him and greeted him.

Vishnu Shekhawat took a step forward, extending a hand instead of returning the gesture. "Come, come. This year’s event wouldn’t have felt complete without a touch from the Rathore legacy. I heard you signed off on a generous donation again."

"I believe in the cause," Abhimanyu replied, measured. "And the family tradition."

He smiled faintly — not too warm, not too cold. Just right for a formal meeting. There was no familiar embrace, no fond inquiry about Badi Ma or the rest of us.

I stepped forward, offering a polite smile. "Khamma ghani"

"Ah yes, Aarushi," he said, his eyes briefly meeting mine before glancing toward the camera behind him. "I’ve seen your wedding pictures. Sorry I couldn’t make it—things have been hectic, you know how it is."

I gave a small nod. "Yes it's okay sir"

Then, without a beat missed, he turned slightly to address the camera crew. "Since Rathore Enterprises has again led the way with their contribution, I thought it was only right I come here personally — such noble causes should be handled directly."

The smile never left his face, but his words didn’t land with warmth — only self-importance.

"Shyam," he called to his photographer, "let’s get a photo. We must capture this moment."

I nodded and Abhimanyu’s hand slid to my waist, gently guiding me to stand beside Vishnu Shekhawat. We positioned ourselves as instructed — the minister in the center, Abhimanyu and I on either side.

Click. Flash. Another moment captured not for memory, but for optics.

As soon as the last photo was taken, Vishnu Shekhawat stepped back, already scanning the room.

"More guests to greet," he said briskly. "Politics never rests, you know." Then, almost as an afterthought, "Enjoy the evening."

And just like that, he walked away.

I turned slightly toward Abhimanyu, my voice barely above a whisper. "He didn’t even ask about Badi Maa…"

Abhimanyu didn’t flinch. "He never does." There was no disappointment in his tone—only a certain cold finality.

"He’s not a family man, jaan" he said, his gaze trailing the home minister’s figure now engrossed with media bites and his ever-hovering photographer." Everything he does—every smile, every donation, every handshake—is calculated."

I swallowed the sudden ache in my chest. "Still… she’s his sister. Doesn’t that mean anything?"

"To people like him?"he scoffed under his breath, a faint trace of disdain in his voice. "Nothing. He’s too far gone in his own game. Family is only useful when it adds to their image. Otherwise, it's a loose thread they cut without a second thought."

I stayed quiet for a moment, staring at the crowd. The whispers around us were no longer about Vishnu Shekhawat. They were about us now — Rathore Enterprises’ presence.

Abhimanyu leaned closer, his words meant only for me. "He didn’t come tonight for charity. He came for headlines. And since Rathore Enterprises already made theirs, he wanted a share of the spotlight."

I met his eyes, surprised by the clarity, the calm ruthlessness in them.

"And here I thought we came to support a noble cause," I murmured.

"We did," he said, "but men like him twist everything into PR. He donated more this year, not out of generosity — but because our name was already stamped on the invitation. He just wanted to make sure his name stood taller."

I let out a slow breath and nodded my head at him. "You always see things for what they are, don’t you?"I asked.

“Especially the ones who pretend best,” his lips curved into a wry smile, eyes gleaming with quiet amusement.

"It’s almost entertaining—watching them put on a show, knowing full well it’s all a game.

And the best part? Letting them think they’re fooling you, while you already know every move they’ll make. "

The laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the hum of soft instrumental music filled the grand ballroom.

The charity event was in full swing, and it had already been more than two hours since Aarushi and Abhimanyu had arrived. With each passing minute, the place buzzed with more conversations, camera flashes, and wine refills.

Aarushi stood near the side, her delicate fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of her empty mocktail glass.

Abhimanyu had stepped away just five minutes ago, saying he needed to take a quick call from a foreign investor. He’d promised to return within moments.

Just then, her phone vibrated in her clutch.

Sid.

Her lips curved into a soft smile as she pulled her phone out. "Hello I was––" she started, but the call dropped before she could even accept.

She frowned, lifting the phone again. No signal.

Aarushi moved to her right, stepping closer to the far edge of the hallway that led toward the inner wings of the venue. Still nothing. She looked around; the reception was patchy in this thickly paneled ballroom.

With a small sigh, she adjusted her saree and began walking toward the more secluded area past the decorative archway near the staircase.

She knew Abhimanyu might scold her later for wandering off, but it was just a quick call.

The upper floor was silent, save for the muffled echo of music from below. As she climbed the steps and reached the quieter level, her phone finally blinked — one bar.

She smiled faintly and tapped Sid’s name again.

Just as it rang, a voice interrupted her.

"Ma’am? Excuse me?"

Aarushi turned.

A young staff boy, stood at the corridor’s edge holding a sealed envelope in both hands.

His face was tense, slightly panicked. "Ma’am, could I request a tiny favour? It’s really urgent."

Aarushi blinked, slightly caught off-guard. "Yes?"

"I was supposed to hand this to Shekhawat sir's PA, he’s in the VIP room upstairs, second on the left," he rushed out. "But I’ve been called to the control room for the stage lights — they just went out and sir will fire me if I delay. Please, can you just give this to his PA?"

She hesitated. "I don’t think I should... I mean—"

"Please ma’am, it’s just one envelope," he insisted, stepping forward. "You won’t have to say anything, just hand it over or leave it on the table. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t really urgent."

Aarushi gave a small sigh, looking down at the envelope before reluctantly accepting it. "Fine," she said gently. "Second door to the left?"

He nodded quickly, already turning to dash back downstairs. "Yes, ma’am. Thank you so much."

Envelope in hand, Aarushi walked further down the carpeted hallway. She reached the second door on the left and found it slightly ajar.

She knocked gently. "Excuse me?"

Silence.

She peeked inside. The room was dim, lit by a side lamp. A desk sat toward the window, leather chairs placed symmetrically. It looked more like a private study than a lounge.

She stepped in slowly, looking around. "Hello?"

Still no sign of anyone.

Assuming the PA had stepped away, she moved to the desk. As she reached forward to place the envelope, her clutch slipped from under her arm and fell with a soft thud onto the carpeted floor.

"Ugh," she muttered and crouched to pick it up, not noticing that the small decorative ring looped on her clutch zip had come off and rolled silently beneath the desk.

She stood, brushed her hands, and gently placed the envelope on the leather desk pad.

On her way up, her saree lightly touched the edge of the newly polished desk , leaving faint polished mark on her saree

Her phone buzzed again. She checked. Still no signal.

Aarushi sighed and walked out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her.

As she descended the stairs, a middle-aged staff member at the base noticed her.

"Ma’am?" he said, puzzled. "This area is restricted. It’s reserved for private access only"

"Oh—I’m so sorry," Aarushi said quickly, adjusting her expression. "I was just trying to get signal... my call wasn’t going through."

The man blinked, then nodded politely. "That’s alright, ma’am. But please do avoid the upper floor."

"I will,sorry" she replied, offering a small smile as she moved past him.

Back in the ballroom, the lights felt brighter and the music louder. She looked around, trying to spot Abhimanyu. Still no sign of him.

And then she noticed something else — Home Minister hadn’t returned either. He had stepped away earlier, and it had easily been over half an hour since.

Aarushi drifted toward the bar area, her eyes subtly scanning the crowd, looking for a familiar face. The soft hum of conversation filled the elegantly lit hall, but her focus remained sharp.

Just then, Abhimanyu stepped through the grand entrance, his gaze immediately sweeping over the guests.

The moment his eyes landed on her, something in his expression softened. Without a second thought, he began making his way toward her through the crowd.

As soon as Aarushi noticed him approaching, a hint of relief flickered across her face. "You were gone for quite a while…" she said, her voice light but laced with curiosity.

Abhimanyu offered her a faint smile. "Sorry," he murmured, his tone low and sincere. "Got caught up in a longer call than I expected."

Aarushi studied him. Something was different. He wasn’t telling her everything.

She could see it—not in his words, but in the pause before them, the way his jaw had been clenching and unclenching subtly.

Still, she didn’t push. Not here.

"When do we leave?" she asked softly.

He looked at her, eyes momentarily softening. Her cheeks were slightly flushed from the heat, the noise, the social exhaustion she was trying to mask.

"Let’s go now,if you want" he said quietly, reaching out to touch the small of her back.

They began to walk toward the rear exit of the hall, passing slow-moving guests, smiling politely at those who noticed them. The distant clink of cutlery and laughter echoed behind them.

But just as they turned the corner toward the private corridor, a familiar voice cut through—

"Sir"

Aakash appeared, his forehead beading with a faint sheen of sweat. His eyes darted briefly to Aarushi and then locked with Abhimanyu’s. His tone was low, urgent, but respectful.

"Just a minute, sir. Please."

Aarushi stepped aside instinctively, watching with mild confusion as Aakash leaned closer to Abhimanyu and began speaking in hushed tones.

She couldn’t catch a word. Their faces were close, Abhimanyu’s brows furrowed as he listened intently. A few seconds passed—then ten. His jaw tightened further.

Aarushi’s heart beat a little quicker. She didn’t like this silence.

"What happened?" she asked finally, her voice soft but firm.

Abhimanyu turned toward her. For a split second, something flickered in his eyes—Frustration? She couldn’t tell.

"Baby, you head home with Aakash," he said, voice gentle but firm.

"What?" she blinked. "Why?"

"A small issue’s come up. Something I need to handle personally."

Aarushi stepped forward slightly. "Then let me wait in the car. We can go together after—"

"No," he said immediately, then softened. "I don’t know how long this will take. You look exhausted, jaan Please, just go home."

She hesitated, eyes searching his face. "Are you sure? You’re acting… weird."

"I’ll explain everything later," he murmured, brushing her cheek affectionately. "Promise."

She swallowed. "Okay..."

He nodded and they moved outside. He opened the car door for her and she slid into the backseat, still unsure.

As the door shut with a soft thud, she turned her face to the window, a faint ache settling in her chest.

Abhimanyu stood watching until the car rolled away, his expression unreadable.

Inside the car, silence stretched between Aarushi and Aakash for several long minutes.

The quiet hum of the AC, the muted city lights flashing outside the window, and the gentle rhythm of the road beneath the tires did little to settle her unease.

She looked over. "Aakash?"

"Yes, ma’am?"

She tilted her head, her voice more direct this time. "What really happened?"

He hesitated.

"He didn’t tell me much," she added quickly, "but I know it’s not nothing. You wouldn’t have interrupted us otherwise."

He exhaled slowly, hands tightening slightly on the steering wheel.

"I didn’t want to say anything before, but… something unexpected came up regarding confidential security data,"

Aakash said carefully. "Some of it is linked to the guest list and internal access codes. Sir had to personally intervene before it escalated."

Aarushi frowned. “How could––I mean suddenly"

"We don't know mam , but don't worry . Sir will handle it" Aakash replied, glancing at her in the rearview mirror.

Aarushi looked out the window again, thoughts racing..

After few minutes ~

The city was winding down for the night, the roads asleep, bathed in the dull orange of streetlights. Inside the car, silence lingered between Aarushi and Aakash, disturbed only by the faint hum of the engine and the occasional swipe of car tires on the road.

They were barely twenty minutes from Rathore Mansion when the mood shifted without warning.

Flashing red and blue lights filled the rearview mirror.

Aakash blinked in confusion, straightening in his seat. Behind them, two police cars had appeared out of nowhere, closing in fast, sirens slicing through the quiet of the night like sharp knives. Aarushi sat forward, alarmed.

"Aakash…?" she asked softly, eyes narrowing on the glowing lights. "Why are the police following us?"

"I don’t know, ma’am," Aakash muttered, his voice low and uneasy.

Before either of them could process, the police vehicles came up on both sides of their car, boxing them in. One officer leaned slightly out the window, giving a clear signal to pull over.

Aakash nodded slowly, concern tightening his jaw. "I think they want us to stop."

Aarushi’s fingers gripped her phone tightly "Stop the car. Something’s not right."

He gently pulled the car over to the left lane, parking it at the roadside.

"Stay inside, please," Aakash told her quickly. "I’ll check what’s going on."

He stepped out into the chill of the night, his heart pounding as three officers approached with urgency.

The lead officer, clad in a dark uniform, looked straight past Aakash toward the vehicle.

"What’s the matter, sir?" Aakash asked, trying to stay composed despite the tightening knot in his stomach.

The officer’s voice was cold and firm. "Call the lady out of the car."

Aakash blinked. "I… I’m sorry, sir, but what’s the issue? Is there some mistake?"

The officer didn’t reply. He raised his voice slightly. "Mr., call her outside. Now."

Inside the car, Aarushi had rolled the window down slightly. Her breath caught at the officer’s words. Aakash turned back toward her, panicked, but before he could speak, Aarushi was already opening the door.

She stepped out slowly, confusion etched across her face. Her bangles clinked faintly, and her saree fluttered against the night wind.

"What happened?"she asked, her voice gentle, unsure, looking between the officer and Aakash.

The officer signaled to the lady constable, then looked directly at Aarushi. "Mrs. Aarushi Rathore, you are under arrest for the murder of Home Minister Vishnu Shekhawat."

The words sliced through the air with brutal finality.

Aarushi’s lips parted, but no sound came. Her eyes widened, chest rising in a sudden gasp. Aakash took a sharp step forward, stunned.

"What?! Murder? Are you out of your mind?!" Aakash exclaimed, standing protectively between Aarushi and the officers.

The officer glared at him. "Step aside. This is official duty. Don’t interfere unless you want to be arrested too."

"No, you listen to me—" Aakash tried again, but was shoved aside.

"Don’t teach us the law. We have evidence," the officer snapped. "The Home Minister’s body was found in the chamber and CCTV footage shows your ma’am entering the minister’s private chamber shortly before the estimated time of death."

Aarushi felt her knees weaken.

"No…" she breathed out. "That’s not true. I didn’t—I didn’t kill anyone! I don’t even know how he died! I—I was sent there with an envelope. I was told to leave it in the room"

The officer ignored her pleas. "You can explain that at the station."

"But please, listen—my husband—Abhimanyu Rathore—he was with me! Ask him! I was just—"

The lady constable stepped forward and firmly grabbed Aarushi’s wrists.

Aarushi instinctively stepped back, panic flashing in her eyes. "No—wait! You don’t understand! Please let me talk to my––"

The metallic click of the handcuffs locking around her wrists sounded too loud in the open night.

Aarushi flinched, the cold iron biting into her skin. Her eyes filled with tears, vision blurring as the officer turned her roughly toward the police jeep.

Aakash shouted, his voice panicked "This is insane! You’re treating her like a criminal without even questioning—"

"We’ll question her at the station,"the officer said flatly. "Step back. I am warning you last time"

"Please don’t… I didn’t do anything," Aarushi cried, her voice cracking. Her legs barely moved as the constable began pulling her forward.

She looked back at Aakash, pleading with tear-streaked eyes. "Aakash–I didn't… call Abhimanyu… please…"

"I will, ma’am! Don’t worry, I’m calling him right now—I’m following you" Aakash called after her, breathless and panicking.

The car door slammed shut behind her.

Aarushi sat inside the police vehicle, her wrists chained, her heart pounding violently in her chest. She blinked rapidly, the reality sinking in like a poison.

She had been arrested.

For murder.

Aakash ran to their car and jumped into the driver’s seat. His hands trembled as he fumbled with his phone.

"Come on, come on… pick up, sir," he muttered, dialing Abhimanyu’s number.

The line rang.

No answer.

He swore under his breath and tried again.

"Sir, please… pick up…"

The police jeeps began moving ahead, and Aakash accelerated to follow them, still gripping the phone.

Still no response.

"Shit" he hissed. "Pick up the damn phone, sir" He tried once more, refusing to give up.

Inside the police car, Aarushi sat motionless,tears flowing out of her eyes. Her mind swimming in fear and disbelief.