The warm glow of late morning sun filtered through the French windows of the Singhania Estate, casting long golden stripes across the marble floor. In the kitchen, the smell of spiced fish fry wafted through the air—crispy, golden, and too tempting to resist.
Rithika, wrapped in an oversized hoodie and messy hair tied in a loose bun, hovered over the kitchen island like a hawk. “That. Is. Mine,” she declared, pointing to the last piece of fish on the platter.
Shaurya, one sock on and one sock missing, held up the plate with a dramatic eye roll. “You had three already. This is mine, by the law of fairness.”
Rithika snatched at the plate. “By the law of eldest sibling privilege, you’re disqualified. And I earned this. I survived Cambridge!”
“You studied philosophy and romantic poets. You survived excessive coffee and dramatics,” he muttered.
“I’ll take that as jealousy.”
They tugged the plate between them like children, growling and mock-arguing until the plate nearly tipped off the counter.
From the hallway, Vikram’s calm voice drifted through the open archway. “I swear, if someone drops that, you're both going to live off detox smoothies for a week.”
The chaos froze.
Rithika froze mid-lunge. Shaurya looked guiltily toward the living room.
But Vikram wasn’t even in sight.
He was leaning against the mahogany pillar just out of view, phone pressed to his ear, his voice calm yet faintly amused.
“Sorry,” he said, back on the call. “My siblings are threatening world peace over fish.”
Parineeti’s soft chuckle came through the line. “I’d call that... character revealing.”
“You’d be right,” Vikram replied, glancing toward the kitchen. “They’ve barely changed. Rithika still argues like a litigator. Shaurya pretends he’s above it but will wrestle over biryani any day.”
“Sounds like a full house,” she said.
There was something about the way her voice dipped on those words—curious, light, but lingering.
“It is,” Vikram admitted, pacing slightly, voice softer now. “But I like it. It hasn’t felt this full in a while.”
There was a pause.
“Anyway,” she said, changing the subject, “how’s the prep for the next hearing?”
Vikram’s expression sobered a little. “Aaryan’s handling the internal paperwork. Vyom’s looking into the shell company trail. But I think you and I need to sit down with the forensic auditors too.”
“I agree. I went through the transaction logs again last night. Something’s... not aligning.”
“I trust your gut,” Vikram said simply.
Another pause.
“You know, you say things like that too easily,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“You trust me. You say it like it’s already proven.”
“It is.” He leaned against the frame now, eyes slightly narrowed in thought. “You’re the only person I’ve seen cut through a courtroom like that since—well. Since no one, actually.”
Parineeti was quiet.
“I’m not trying to flatter,” Vikram added after a beat. “Just stating facts.”
“I know,” she said quietly.
He heard movement on her end. Maybe she was back at her desk, maybe walking around her office. He liked not knowing. Liked imagining her going about her day while talking to him.
“I got a call this morning from a certain newspaper editor,” she said.
“Ignore them.”
“I did. But they’re curious. About me. About you.”
Vikram exhaled. “They always are. You didn’t say anything?”
“Of course not.”
“Good,” he said.
Another pause. Then—
“Are you always this cryptic?” she asked suddenly, a smile in her voice.
“I prefer ‘private.’”
“Hm. Convenient.”
He smiled faintly, rubbing his thumb along the edge of his watch. “Let’s meet this evening. Say around eight?”
“I have a call at nine.”
“We won’t be long.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
“Vikram...”
“I’m picking you up,” he cut her off gently. “Be ready.”
He heard her sigh.
She hung up.
He smiled.
From the kitchen, another shriek rang out. “Shaurya, I will murder you—!”
Vikram walked into the chaos at last.
“Both of you,” he said dryly, “either share the damn fish or I’m going to start rationing your streaming passwords.”
Shaurya dropped the plate like it was toxic. Rithika pouted.
“Why don’t you make more, Bhai?” she asked sweetly.
“Because I was on a call with someone important.”
Shaurya squinted at him. “Parineeti?”
Vikram didn’t answer, but the faint smirk on his face said enough.
Rithika immediately threw a cushion at her brother. “You’re getting soft!”
“Shut up and make more fish,” Vikram said, ducking the cushion and heading to his study.
---
The late afternoon sun had begun casting long amber shadows across Vikram’s office. He was seated in his leather chair, fingers tapping rhythmically against the dark walnut armrest, his mind still lingering on the earlier conversation with Parineeti.
The screen of his phone lit up—Vyom.
He answered on the second ring.
“Vyom.”
“Boss,” Vyom’s tone was clipped but not urgent. “Just got the itinerary. The Amsterdam World Summit is officially locked. Five days from now.”
Vikram leaned back. “Location?”
“Van Gogh Convention Hall. Full security lockdown. Two-day schedule. Economic leaders, private defence contractors, trade blocs… and yes—Petrov’s backers are attending.”
Vikram’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Which ones?”
“Eastern Eurozone intelligence front—Volkov Group. But here’s the twist: a delegate under a diplomatic business alias, closely linked to the Mauritius shell firm.”
Vikram was silent for a moment, gears turning.
“Are we invited or expected?” he asked finally.
“Both. They know Singhania Industries face . Your presence is being talked about already. Some are betting you'll back out.”
“Let them bet wrong.”
“Good,” Vyom said. “Also, side note—Rithika’s arrival’s been picked up by a couple of society blogs. Nothing damaging, just happy-to-be-back stuff.”
Vikram smirked faintly. “Let her have her fun. She’ll be bored by tomorrow.”
Vyom chuckled. “She’s already planning a spa schedule. And by the way, she flirted with me at the airport.”
“I warned you about that.”
“Yeah, well… I’m not losing sleep over it.”
There was a pause. Then Vyom said, his voice a little quieter, “You sure you want to go to Amsterdam right now? It’s not just business. It’s ghosts too.”
Vikram’s tone cooled. “The ghosts are always there. Better to face them in daylight.”
Vyom didn’t press. “Alright. I’ll coordinate with the embassy liaison. And I’ve moved our cybersecurity briefings to tomorrow morning.”
“Good. Book a hotel under our fallback aliases. I don’t want the summit knowing where we sleep.”
“Already done. And Boss... one more thing.”
“Hmm?”
“You might want to tell Parineeti soon. About Amsterdam. About what this really is.”
Vikram’s jaw clenched faintly.
“I will,” he said after a pause. “Just not yet.”
---
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