17
I tightened my white coat neatly around me, feeling the sharp weight of responsibility settle on my shoulders.
This wasn't just any case - this was my baby brother's life on the line.
I turned toward Utsav who stood awkwardly near the door, clutching the hem of his hoodie like a lost boy.
I softened slightly and walked up to him.
"Let's go," I said firmly. He nodded and moved to follow me.
But before he could step ahead, I reached out and held his hand tightly.
"Remember, Utsav," I said, looking straight into his tear-filled eyes, "I'm here to protect you. To defend you. To fight for you."
My voice was steady, strong, a promise carved into stone.
"So don't be scared. Don't be weak. And don't cry. Because you are not guilty. And I will prove it."
He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, sniffing slightly, and nodded with determination, his small shoulders straightening a little.
I smiled faintly and bent down toward my precious Sheraa who was watching us with wide, sad blue eyes.
I stroked his soft snowy fur, cooing gently, "Be a good boy with Dadu, hmm? Mama will be back soon and I'll get you lots of vanilla ice cream, baby."
Sheraa gave a soft whimper but rubbed his face against my hand, and I kissed his head quickly.
Standing up, I took a deep breath and adjusted the collar of my white lawyer's coat, feeling the power it gave me.
This wasn't just Katha Choudhury walking out now - this was The Queen of Justice stepping into the battlefield.
Without another word, I headed to my sleek black Range Rover parked outside.
Utsav silently followed, slipping into the passenger seat while I slid behind the wheel.
I started the engine, the powerful hum filling the tense silence between us.
As I pulled out of the driveway and onto the main road, I threw a glance at Utsav.
His hands were trembling slightly in his lap, his eyes staring ahead nervously.
I reached out briefly and squeezed his hand once - strong, reassuring - before focusing back on the road.
We had a war to win.
And no one - no one - was going to hurt my brother.
Not while I was breathing.
As we reached near the courthouse, the scene in front of us made me clench the steering wheel tightly.
Press swarmed like vultures, flashing cameras and shouting over one another.
Nearby, a large crowd of Mahila Mandali - self-proclaimed women's rights activists - were waving banners and screaming slogans about punishing "rapists. "
I threw a glance at Utsav, who visibly stiffened at the sight.
I quickly reached out and held his hand firmly.
"Don't be scared," I whispered fiercely. "Keep your expression blank. No fear. No guilt. Nothing. Understand?"
He nodded silently, swallowing hard.
Just as I was adjusting my shades to step out, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
I pulled it out and froze for a second when I saw the caller ID: Dattatriya.
Debating for a moment, I eventually picked up.
"Hi," I said shortly, my eyes scanning the crowd.
"All the best," his deep voice said blankly. "I know you will save him."
And just like that, he ended the call.
A small smile tugged at my lips for a fleeting second - a rare thing these days - but I quickly brushed it off, locking away my emotions.
I put on my sunglasses and stepped out of the car, Utsav sticking close to my side.
The press immediately began shouting:
- "Ma'am! Are you really defending a rapist?"
- "Ms. Choudhury, being a woman yourself, how can you stand by an accused?"
- "Ms. Choudhury, any comments for the victim?"
- "Is it true your brother confessed?"
I ignored every single one of them, keeping my arm tightly around Utsav as Lana's hired bodyguards cleared a path through the crowd.
We were almost near the courthouse steps when suddenly -
SPLASH.
I gasped and looked down - my entire custom-made, snowy white blazer was now drenched in black ink.
It dripped messily down my sleeves and onto my pants.
I stood frozen, staring in horror and rage.
The Mahila Mandali women stood there, holding empty ink bottles and chanting aggressively:
"Shame on you!"
"How dare you defend a rapist!"
"Being a woman, you should be supporting the victim, not the criminal!"
"Women like you are traitors to our gender!"
"Down with the Choudhurys!"
My hands clenched into fists.
I turned around, my anger exploding.
I yelled at the top of my lungs, "MERAA 7 LAKH KA BLAZER!!!" (MY 7 LAKH RUPEE BLAZER!!!)
Lana and Utsav tried frantically to pull me back, but I was already marching toward the screaming women like a storm.
I glared at them - all these self-righteous aunties - and snapped coldly:
"Remember one thing, old aunties. In Indian law, there's a saying: 'A suspect is not guilty until and unless proven by court.
'
"Agar by chance mera client - yanuki mera chota bhai - nirdosh hua, toh yaad rakhna," I hissed, "Tum logoke ghar mai aake 7 lakh leke jaungi mai, for the painting you did on my custom-made blazer. "
(Translation: If by chance my client - that is, my little brother - is proven innocent, remember this: I will come to your houses personally and take 7 lakh rupees for the painting you did on my custom-made blazer.)
I shook my now blackened blazer in front of them, letting them see the damage properly.
A few of them actually flinched.
Lana quickly gave me tissues to wipe my face, which now had black stains across my jaw and cheek.
Still seething, I turned sharply and snapped, "Lana, get me a new coat. NOW."
She nodded, already dialing frantically.
I then pulled Utsav close again and stormed into the courthouse, ignoring the stunned silence behind me.
Today, they messed with the wrong lawyer.
And they were about to regret it.
I stormed into the courtroom, my white coat now stained with faint black patches even after Lana's desperate wiping.
An angry Katha Choudhury was a nightmare for anyone to deal with - and today, the entire courtroom could feel the air shift when I entered.
I led Utsav to the defense table, giving a cold stare to the opposing lawyer, who looked a little too smug for my liking. The so-called victim was sitting dramatically, dabbing fake tears. I almost rolled my eyes.
The session began.
I stood up sharply, my heels echoing, and said,
"Your Honor, today I am here to prove that my client, Utsav Choudhury, is innocent and a victim of a malicious trap set by the so-called victim present in this room."
The opposing lawyer stood, smirking.
"Objection, Your Honor. The defense is already assuming the character of the victim."
I turned my icy gaze towards him.
"What are you objecting to exactly, Counselor?
The fact that your client drugged mine? Or the way she pretended to be raped to gain publicity, sympathy, and money?
" I snapped.
The judge actually flinched a little at my sharp voice but remained silent, gesturing for me to continue.
I walked towards the center, directly facing the so-called victim.
"Let's start from the beginning, shall we?
" I smiled mockingly.
"Here's the CCTV footage from the club, Your Honor," I said, presenting the evidence Dattatriya had arranged.
I clicked the remote, and the big screen showed everything:
·
The girl mixing something in Utsav's drink.
·
Her leading a heavily drugged Utsav to a private room.
·
Her calling someone on the phone and laughing.
·
Her tearing her own clothes before the police entered.
The courtroom gasped.
The opposing lawyer tried standing again.
"Objection-"
"Sit down!" I roared, my voice booming across the hall, making him immediately sit back in fear.
"Your Honor, the footage clearly shows premeditation, planning, and execution of a crime NOT by my client but by the complainant herself!
"
I paced slowly, my voice dripping with contempt.
"And yet she had the audacity to come here today.
.. dressed in white like some saint, pretending to have been wronged! "
The girl started crying fake tears again.
I crossed my arms.
"Save it. Maybe this drama works in cheap TV serials but not in my courtroom," I snapped.
"And let's not forget," I said, holding up another piece of evidence, "the bank transactions showing she accepted two lakh rupees from a suspicious account just the day after the incident."
The opposing lawyer shrunk visibly.
The judge cleared his throat uncomfortably.
At last, I turned and said loudly,
"Your Honor, the defense demands an immediate acquittal of Mr. Utsav Choudhury. All allegations are baseless, fake, and a criminal misuse of women-protection laws."
The judge nodded, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"After examining the evidence and arguments presented, this court finds Mr. Utsav Choudhury NOT GUILTY."
The courtroom broke into whispers and gasps.
I stood up sharply, turning to the fake victim, my glare colder than ice.
In a low, deadly tone, I said,
"Tum jese ladkiyo ki wajah se, jo asli main rape victim hoti hai unki koi vishwas nahi karta.
"
(Because of girls like you, real rape victims are not believed.)
"Shame on you for using the woman card.
.. especially pretending to be raped just to ruin an innocent life. "
The girl flinched and hid behind her lawyer.
I turned back towards the judge, my tone professional again.
"Your Honor, the defense demands strict legal action against the complainant for filing a false case, against her brother who physically assaulted my client, and against the police inspector who arrested my client without proper investigation. "
The judge nodded quickly, almost fearfully.
"And," I added icily, my voice dripping with threat, "if the law fails to punish the brother and inspector, don't worry..."
I smiled without warmth,
"Mere bhai hai sambhalne ke liye."
(My brothers will handle them.)
The entire courtroom flinched at the deadly implication hidden under my cold words - everyone knew what it meant when the Choudhury sons got involved.
The judge immediately announced an investigation into the girl's actions and ordered her and her brother's immediate custody.
I closed my file calmly, patted a teary-eyed Utsav's back, and walked out of the courtroom, still in my stained white coat but with my head held high, leaving a trail of fear and awe behind.
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