The conference room inside Singhania Industries buzzed with poised intensity. Lawyers moved like shadows, assistants brought in mineral water bottles and pens that cost more than most people’s monthly rent. But at the heart of the chaos, Vikram Singhania sat still—an unmoving storm in a black-on-black suit, his expression unreadable, watching everything.
Especially her.
Parineeti Gupta was seated on the opposite side of the table, a fountain pen gliding across the final page of the legal advisory contract. Her posture was perfect—calm, professional, unyielding. A quiet defiance cloaked her like armor.
And beside her sat Rishi Mehta, the youngest associate in her team. His shirt was slightly wrinkled from the commute, but his smile was all spark and sunshine. Every time he leaned toward Parineeti to whisper something, Vikram felt his jaw tighten.
She didn’t lean away.
Vyom stood beside Vikram, posture rigid, eyes flicking between the room and the closed file in his hands. He spoke without turning his head. “Everything’s in order. The legal partnership begins today.”
Vikram finally stood.
The room fell silent.
Parineeti looked up.
Their eyes met.
A crackle. A stillness. A warning.
He walked to the end of the table, where her file lay closed.
He tapped the edge once. “Make sure you read every word. This contract doesn’t just bind your services, Ms. Gupta—it binds your silence.”
Parineeti didn’t flinch. “Silence only matters when there’s something to hide, Mr. Singhania.”
A faint smile tugged at the edge of Vikram’s mouth—more cold than amused. “Oh, we all hide something. Some of us just do it better.”
---
Later that evening.
Rain slicked the glass panels of the estate office. A storm hung above the city like a curse waiting to fall.
Vikram stood near the window, glass of scotch in hand. The amber liquid caught the dim light like blood under moonlight. Behind him, the door opened.
Vyom entered. “She’s waiting in the hall.”
“Let her in,” Vikram said without turning.
The door closed. Footsteps followed. Familiar. Sharp. Confident.
Parineeti walked into the lion’s den as though she owned it.
Her eyes swept across the room once, then locked on him.
He finally turned.
And for a moment, neither of them spoke.
“You requested a personal briefing,” she said.
“I asked to see the woman who now holds the key to a very public scandal,” Vikram corrected. “This case isn’t simple. It’s war. I hope you didn’t sign that contract thinking you were doing just legal work.”
“I know exactly what I signed,” she replied. “The real question is—do you?”
The corner of his mouth twitched again. Not quite a smile.
“You speak like someone who thinks she’s safe.”
“I don’t believe in safety,” she said calmly. “Only strategy.”
A beat of silence.
Then Vikram moved to his desk and pulled open the drawer. He laid a file on the table, pushing it toward her with deliberate force.
“Go through this. I want a risk assessment on the regulatory exposure by Friday.”
Parineeti took the file, eyes narrowing at the sheer thickness. “This isn’t just exposure. This is borderline criminal.”
Vikram leaned forward, voice low. “That’s why I hired you, Parineeti. You clean blood better than bleach.”
The room pulsed with something dark and unspoken.
---
Outside, in the hallway.
Rishi stood by the glass wall, waiting for her.
When she finally emerged, his face lit up. “Did he breathe fire?”
She allowed a small smile. “Close. But I’m still standing.”
“I’m surprised he let you walk out alive. He looked like he wanted to break the table.”
“He always looks like that.”
Rishi chuckled. “I meant what I said earlier. You’re exactly where you’re meant to be.”
Parineeti’s smile faded slightly, but she nodded. “Thanks, Rishi. That means more than you know.”
Across the hallway, from the shadows behind a dark-tinted panel, Vikram watched them both. The way her hand briefly touched Rishi’s arm. The way her expression softened.
Something twisted in his chest—not jealousy, but something darker. Something possessive. Something territorial.
He turned away before he could feel more.
---
Later, in Vikram’s private study.
Vyom walked in with a tablet. “Surveillance flagged it again.”
Vikram took the device. On the screen was a grainy image of a hooded figure outside a secure server facility.
“I had Shaurya followed after the airport,” Vyom said. “We didn’t catch a clear shot, but we got this.”
Vikram’s fingers tightened on the tablet. “It’s him.”
“Do you want us to confront him?”
“No. Not yet.”
Vyom hesitated. “You think he’s helping her?”
Vikram didn’t respond immediately.
Then, softly: “I think my brother has chosen a side. And it isn’t mine.”
---
Elsewhere, in the Gupta residence.
Justice Leela Gupta poured two cups of tea. “I hear you’ve signed with Singhania Industries.”
Parineeti, seated across from her, nodded. “Just as a legal advisor.”
“Legal advisors get pulled into a lot more than law, Paru.”
“I can handle Vikram,” she said, then hesitated. “It’s the shadows around him I’m worried about.”
Arun Gupta walked in, newspaper folded under his arm. “You’ve always walked into fire, beta. But this one burns deeper. Just promise me you’ll keep your exit plan close.”
Parineeti reached for her cup. “I’m not looking for exits, Papa. Not yet.”
Justice Leela watched her daughter in silence, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes.
---
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