32. Revelation
"
Maheshwar Pratap Rathore," he called out calmly yet loudly, "Swagat nahi karenge humara?"
("Won't you welcome me?")
Bhai stepped forward confidently, folding the sleeves of his shirt. That familiar curve of his lips curved upward, the kind that meant something explosive was about to happen.
"So according to Maheshwar Pratap Rathore," he continued smoothly, "opsss... my uncle... I was kidnapped by Yugant Raizaada? Right, Uncle?"
He dragged the last word deliberately as he closed the distance between them.
I wiped my tears instantly.
The game had just begun.
Now I just had to stand back and watch the real players move their pieces across the board.
"Sa... Samarth? Tum yahan?" Mr. Rathore stammered, wiping sweat from his forehead.
("Samarth? You're here?")
"Or kahan hona chahiye tha mujhe? Jail mein?" Bhai replied coolly, placing a hand on Mr. Rathore's shoulder.
("Where else was I supposed to be? In jail?")
My eyes shifted to Ishaan, who stepped closer to Yugant and murmured something into his ear. Yugant nodded slightly and gave him a faint, curved smile before turning his full attention back to the chaos unfolding ahead.
"Samarth, let's go home," Mr. Rathore said hurriedly, glancing nervously at the paparazzi crowding around them. "We will talk. It's a family matter."
"Home?" Bhai let out a hollow laugh. "Which home? The one you snatched from me years ago? The one where you never let me live in peace?"
"Samarth-" Mr. Rathore tried to interrupt again but Bhai didn't stop.
"Today, we'll talk here. In front of everyone," he said firmly. "And you'll answer every single thing."
The hall had gone completely silent.
"Tell them," he continued, his voice rising, "how five years ago you stole Raizaada's designs just one day before the Gala. Tell them how you crushed Yugant's father's reputation in minutes."
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
"Tell them how you kidnapped my innocent sister and sent her away and while I was trying to find her, you made me stuck in the worst situation possible."
My lips parted. What situation is he talking about?
"Tell them how you sent me to Dubai. How you planned false allegations and put me behind bars. I was in a jail in Dubai for four years!" His voice shook, not with fear, but fury.
The reporters were no longer whispering. They were recording every second.
"Tell them how you came to me two years ago and forced me to confess that I caused the accident of Yugant's parents," his voice cracked, but he didn't stop, "-or else you would kill my sister."
The entire hall froze.
"Tell them everything!" Bhai grabbed Mr. Rathore by the collar and punched him hard across the face.
The sound echoed. Mr. Rathore stumbled backward.
Daadi swayed slightly, losing her balance. Ishaan quickly stepped forward and caught her trembling form in his arms. The cameras were still flashing.
"He... he killed my parents and Uncle Aunt" Dhrithika's trembling voice cut through the chaos.
Her breath turned shallow. Her hands began shaking uncontrollably.
"He killed my parents... he made me an orphan," she repeated, her voice cracking.
She was on the verge of a panic attack and I stood frozen behind the crowd.
Hidden.
Useless.
I wanted to step forward.To hold her but I couldn't risk the cameras turning toward me.
Yugant stepped forward to reach her, but before he could Samarth bhai moved first. He pulled Dhrithika into his arms firmly.
"Bhaiya..." she cried, clutching his shirt. "He killed my parents. My uncle. My aunt. He made me an orphan... he snatched them from me..."
My own eyes burned. She was so young.
And she had carried this weight, this trauma silently. Maheshwar Pratap Rathore had destroyed too many lives.
"Your parents will get justice," Samarth bhai said firmly, stroking her hair. "Don't worry. He will pay. But we won't dirty our hands. The law will give him the punishment he deserves."
The reporters surged forward again.
"Mr. Rathore, is this true? Did you frame Samarth?"
"Did you orchestrate a design theft scandal five years ago? And this time as well?"
"Are you responsible for the Raizaada family accident?"
Cameras flashed mercilessly.
Maheshwar Pratap Rathore wiped the blood from his lip, straightened himself, and forced a laugh.
"This is absurd," he said, trying to regain composure. "He is lying. All of this is fabricated." He pointed toward Yugant.
"They are trying to protect Raizaada. They blackmailed him too. Samarth is just repeating what they told him."
Gasps.
Whispers.
Chaos.
Samarth's jaw tightened.
He gently pushed the reporters aside and walked toward Yugant. Carefully, he transferred Dhrithika into Yugant's arms.
Yugant wrapped his arms around her instantly-protective, steady, like an elder brother shielding what was left of his family.
Dhrithika sobbed against his chest.
Samarth bhai turned back without warning, he punched Maheshwar again. This time harder.
The man fell to the floor.
"Stop lying!" bhai shouted. "Accept your crimes!"
He grabbed him by the collar again.
"Accept that you tried to kill my parents in that so-called car accident ten years ago!"
The entire hall froze. "But thankfully they survived," Samarth continued, his voice shaking with rage. "And you kept them hostage. For ten years. Shackled them somewhere, while telling me they were dead!"
My hand flew to my mouth to stop the sob that escaped. His parents...Alive?
"It's all false!" Maheshwar shouted from the floor. "Baseless allegations!"
"It's fucking true!" Samarth roared. "I am not afraid anymore. Everyone I love is safe now-my parents, my sister. So I am not stopping anymore," he said coldly. "I will take everything back from you. Everything. Just wait and watch."
Maheshwar Pratap Rathore wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and let out a bitter laugh.
"Oh... so you'll just keep throwing allegations?" he sneered. "Do you have any proof? Any at all? Your parents? Documents? Witnesses? Or is this all just drama for the cameras?"
Bhai chuckled. "Proof?" he repeated slowly.
His eyes lifted toward the entrance.
"Here is the proof." The massive doors opened again.And this time-A couple walked in.
They were pale.
Weak.
Dark circles carved under their eyes. Bruises faintly visible on their wrists. Their movements slow, fragile-like people who had survived something no one should.
Gasps rippled through the hall.
"It's Mr. Rajvardhan Pratap Rathore..." someone whispered. "And Mrs. Rajnandini Rathore..."
Royal names. Royal blood.
So they are Samarth Bhai's parents. Alive.
Maheshwar staggered back a step in fear. " No.... It's fake."
Bhai grabbed Maheshwar by the collar and dragged him forward, forcing him to stand right in front of his father.
For one second, there was complete silence. Then a sharp slap echoed through the hall.
It was loud. Brutal. Final.
Maheshwar's face jerked to the side.
The hand that had struck him belonged to his own brother.
Rajvardhan Pratap Rathore stood tall despite the exhaustion lining his face.
"You snatched everything from us," he said, his voice deep and steady, heavy with years of suppressed rage. "But look at us now. We are back... standing exactly where we should have been."
Maheshwar stumbled.
A few seconds later, police officers entered the hall.
Bhai shoved Maheshwar toward them without hesitation.
Ishaan stepped forward calmly and handed the inspector a thick file, a sealed pendrive in a zip-lock packet, and additional documents.
"Here are all the proofs," Ishaan said clearly.
"From the attempted murder of Mr. and Mrs. Rathore ten years ago.
.. to the accident of Raizaada family. The file contains official records proving Samarth Rathore was in Dubai jail for four years.
It also includes the video confession he was forced to release two years ago to protect his sister. "
Gasps moved through the remaining crowd.
"The pendrive," Ishaan continued, "contains the original design drafts, timestamped manufacturing logs, vault security footage, and forensic verification proving Raizaada's collection is original.
It also includes evidence showing Maheshwar Pratap stole the designs last time and attempted the same manipulation this year. "
The inspector nodded gravely.
"That's sufficient, Mr. Rathore. This man is facing life imprisonment for multiple charges."
"He should get the death sentence, Inspector," Yugant's deep voice cut in from behind. Calm. Cold. "And before that... I trust you know how to treat criminals who ruin families."
The inspector understood the tone without needing elaboration.
Maheshwar was dragged away, still shouting, still denying, but no one was listening anymore.
"Let's focus back on the Gala," Ishaan said smoothly, glancing toward the paparazzi. "After this, we'll distribute copies of the evidence to the press."
The reporters nodded eagerly. Order slowly returned to the hall.
Ishaan guided Daadi, Dadu, and Dhrithika to the front row.
"Samarth," Nandini Aunty called softly.
He turned immediately.
Before hugging her, he bent down and touched both his parent's feet, taking their blessings. Rajvardhan uncle placed a trembling hand on his son's head. Nandini aunt pulled him into a bone-crushing embrace.
Tears streamed freely down her face as she kissed his forehead again and again.
"We never thought we would see you again," she whispered.
"But you are," Samarth replied, holding her tighter. "And this is just the beginning, Mom. The good days start now."
Rajvardhan uncle joined the embrace. For the first time in years, they looked like a family again. Everything had come back into place.
Bhai was safe.
His parents were alive.
The truth was out.
Justice had served.
Everyone had someone.
And I-I felt like the only extra piece on the board.
Because of me, Bhai spent four years in jail. Maybe the right thing to do is step back.
Ishaan guided Samarth bhai's parents toward the first row where the Raizaadas were seated.
Samarth bhai and Mr Raizaada now stood face to face. Both had their hands in their pockets.
Both silent. No words.
Slowly, the crowd began to thin. The hall regained its controlled elegance.
And suddenly-I was standing there.
Exposed.
Visible.
Too visible.
I wanted to run to bhai. To hug him. To cry into his chest. To say I'm sorry. To say thank you. But I couldn't.
I wiped the last tear that slipped down my cheek.
Bhai was safe, that was enough. With one final look at both Yugant and my brother.
Charming.
Unshaken.
Unreachable.
I turned to leave.
"Dhwani... apne bhai se bina mile hi chali jaogi?"
("Dhwani... will you leave without meeting your brother?")
Bhai's deep voice cut through the air and froze the step I had just taken.
My heel stopped mid-movement.
My breath hitched.
Slowly... painfully... I turned. My eyes were already burning. Stupid tears blurred my vision before I could stop them.
He stood there, alive, safe, stronger than ever looking at me with that same protective gaze he always had.
For years, I thought I had lost him.
"Bhai..." My voice broke on the word.
The crowd no longer existed. The Gala didn't exist.
He opened his arms, that was all it took.
I ran.
Not caring about cameras.
Not caring about people watching.
Not caring about anything.
I crashed into him, wrapping my arms around him tightly, like if I loosened my grip he would disappear again.
He held me just as tightly.
"Pagal ladki..." he whispered softly into my hair and pecked.
("Crazy girl...")
I sobbed against his chest unable to form a single word.
Fear gripped me.
What if he thought I betrayed him?
What if he hated me for pretending to be mute all this time?
What if that lie erased everything between us?
"Arre, say something, you silly girl," he murmured, pulling back just enough to look at my face. "I've been dying to hear my sister's voice ever since Ishaan told me you can talk - and apparently you don't spare his ears."
My lips parted.
He knows? Ishaan. Idiot.
"Bhai..." I called softly.
The word came out smaller than I expected. Fragile. Shaky. Almost unfamiliar to my own ears.
I hadn't spoken like this in so long. I was always loud.
"Yes," he answered instantly, his tone turning gentle. "I'm here."
There was no anger on his face. No accusation. Just relief. Just love.
His smile didn't fully appear maybe he was holding back too much but his eyes softened in a way I had missed for years.
Before I could say anything else, he pulled me back into his arms, holding me tighter than before.
"You think I'd be angry?" he whispered near my temple, as if reading my thoughts. "You did what you had to do to survive. I'm proud of you."
That broke me.
My fingers clutched his shirt.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, voice trembling. "I had no choice..."
"I know," he said firmly. "And you don't have to explain anything. Not to me."
His palm rested at the back of my head again, protective, steady - like I was still the little sister he once shielded from the world.
For the first time after many years, I felt safe.
Completely safe.
"Ladies and gentlemen," The host voice echoed across the grand ballroom, "what a dramatic evening this has been. But now... it's time for the moment we've all been waiting for."
The lights dimmed slightly.
A golden spotlight fell over the center stage.
The massive LED screen behind flickered to life, replaying glimpses of the showcased masterpiece by different companies.
Samarth Bhai's arm instinctively wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me slightly closer to him.
Protective. Steady. Grounded.
The host continued, "Tonight's Grand Aurum Honor for Excellence in Heritage Design goes to... a creation that not only preserved legacy but redefined it."
A pause.
The envelope was lifted.
The hall went silent, even the air felt tight.
"And the award goes to...Raizaada Jewels, Mr. Yugant Raizaada."
Applause exploded through the hall.
Loud.
Thunderous.
Flashes from cameras lit up the room like fireworks.
My heart slammed against my ribs as I saw Yugant walk on stage, he stood still for a moment as if absorbing everything at once.
Confident.
Controlled.
Victorious.
He shook hands with the chief guest, accepted the crystal trophy, a sculpted piece of gold and glass reflecting the royal blue lights and stood before the mic.
His gaze moved across the hall.
It passed over the front row over Daadi, Dadu, Dhrithika - Ishaan and then...It found me, just for a second.
My fingers tightened slightly against bhai's sleeve.
"Success," Yugant began, his voice deep and steady, "is never built alone. It is built on loyalty, on truth... and sometimes," his jaw tightened slightly, "on surviving storms you never signed up for."
A few heads turned, understanding the weight behind his words after everything that had just happened.
"This award," he continued, lifting the trophy slightly, "belongs to my father, to my family. To my team. And to the people who stood by me when it would've been easier to walk away."
His eyes flickered again.
Just briefly.
To me.
"And to those who tried to break us," he added calmly, "thank you. You only reminded us what we are capable of."
The applause rose again.
Stronger this time.
Proud.
Bhai's arm tightened slightly around me. "He deserved this," he murmured near my ear.
He did.
He waited years for this night.
And he won.
A few smaller category awards were announced first, Best Emerging Artisan, Jury Appreciation, Sustainable Craft Recognition, the kind that warmed the evening but didn't shake the room.
Polite applause followed each name.
Smiles. Handshakes. Photographs.
The tension that had swallowed the hall earlier slowly dissolved into curated elegance again as if nothing explosive had happened just an hour ago.
Soft instrumental music resumed in the background.
Servers in crisp uniforms began moving through the crowd with trays of sparkling drinks and delicate hors d'oeuvres.
After nearly half an hour, the host returned to the stage briefly.
"Ladies and gentlemen, dinner is now served in the adjoining hall. Please join us."
The crowd gradually shifted.
"I think we should leave now," Bhai said quietly, looking at me.
"Yes," I nodded softly. He was right. The longer we stayed, the more complicated everything would become for me.
"Won't you congratulate Yugant?" I asked carefully.
His jaw tightened slightly.
"He got what he always desired. My single word doesn't matter in his life," he replied, almost as if forcing the words out.
I blinked.
Weren't they best friends once?
But I didn't push. I had no right to.
He took my hand and guided me toward his parents. "Mom, Dad. Let's go."
Rajvardhan Uncle and Nandini Aunty looked at me for a brief second, something unreadable passing through their eyes before nodding.
"Samarth..." Daadi's voice trembled.She stepped forward and opened her arms pulling him in her arms.
Bhai didn't hug her back- but he didn't step away either.
It was stiff. Unresolved. Heavy with history.
"You can't leave like this," Daadi said softly. "Come with us to the mansion. Stay for a few days."
"No," Bhai answered immediately. Calm. Firm. "We have to return to Rajasthan. There's important work waiting."
"Samarth," Dadu stepped in gently, "two day won't hurt."
Bhai's gaze hardened slightly.
"I respect you, Dadu," he said evenly. "But I am not interested in staying in the same house where my sister was kept to pay for my sins."
The words hit like a slap in Raizaada's face.
My heart dropped. How does he know? Who told him?
"If you don't want to come, then don't," Adhvait, Yugant's brother said coldly, stepping forward. "We aren't dying either."
The temperature shifted instantly. Bhai turned slowly toward him.
"First of all, I wasn't talking to you," he said, voice controlled but sharp. "So don't interfere. Secondly, we are not dying either. We have work to settle in Rajasthan."
"Adhvait, shut up," Daadi snapped sharply at her grandson. Then she looked back at Bhai, her tone softening.
"Let's not discuss this here. Just two days. Come to Raizaada Mansion. After that, we won't stop you."
"But-" Bhai tried again.
"Samarth..." Nandini Aunty's voice broke through. "It's just a day. Stop being stubborn."
"Bhaiya... please," Dhrithika stepped forward, her voice smaller than usual. "At least one day. After that, we won't stop you."
Her eyes were red.
Pleading.
Bhai looked at her for a long second.
He exhaled heavily, looked at his father, then at me. Then finally gave a small nod.
"Fine.." My stomach twisted.
"Let's go, we should have dinner," Ishaan said calmly, trying to dissolve the remaining tension. People began moving toward the dining hall again.
Dhrithika came to my side and gently held my arm.
"Are you alright?" I asked, softly..
"Yes, I'm fine," she replied with a small smile. "It's a very special day for bhaiya. I don't want to ruin it."
I nodded.
My own smile had disappeared somewhere between relief and confusion.
As we entered the dinner hall, my eyes automatically searched for one person and found him.
Yugant.
And Miss Anabella glued to his side, her hand wrapped around his arm like it belonged there.
Is something going on between them?
"Dhrithika..."
"Yes?"
"Who is she?" I asked, subtly pointing toward Anabella.
Before Dhrithika could answer-
"Probably Yugant's girlfriend," Bhai said casually while picking up a plate and serving salad.
Girlfriend?
The word echoed in my head.
Dhrithika quickly clarified, "She's Mr. Kingsley's daughter. He was Dad's friend and invested in our company when our parents and Uncle-Aunt passed away. At that time, bhaiya had no experience in business, and we almost went bankrupt. Mr. Kingsley helped us."
Oh.
That explained the closeness.
Maybe.
But why was she holding him like that? I turned to ask another question but found Bhai already looking at me.
Sharp.
Observant.
As if telling me not to go there. I closed my mouth immediately.
"Both of you sit and eat. Tell me if you need anything else," Bhai said, bringing two plates one for me and one for Dhrithika.
He was always like this.
Protective.
Responsible.
Respectful.
We settled at a large round table. Soon, both the Rathores and the Raizaadas joined us along with Mr. Kingsley.
Bhai kept asking Uncle and Aunty if they needed anything, even though waiters were constantly moving around, serving.
"Samarth, we're fine," Rajvardhan Uncle finally said with a small sigh. "Sit down and eat."
Bhai nodded and moved toward the empty chair on my right.
But before he could sit-the chair was pulled back and filled.
I turned.Yugant.
He sat beside me without looking at anyone.
Bhai's jaw tightened visibly. For a second, I thought sparks would literally fly.
Instead, Bhai walked around and took the seat beside Yugant - exactly where Miss Anabella had been about to sit.
Okay.
Tit for tat.
Miss Anabella blinked in confusion for a moment, then gracefully shifted to the seat beside Bhai.
Ishaan took the next one. Dinner suddenly felt like a battlefield.
??????