Parineeti’s office was quiet, save for the low hum of the city far beyond the glass windows. The files in front of her were a maze of contracts, financial trails, and vague correspondences that screamed of something being hidden. She had been working on the Singhania case for four days now, and each layer she peeled back only revealed something darker.
A soft knock preceded Vyom stepping in. “He’s here,” he said simply.
Parineeti didn’t respond immediately. She closed the folder slowly, slid it to the edge of her desk, and stood.
“I’ll take it from here,” she said.
Vyom gave a silent nod before leaving. A second later, the door opened again.
Vikram Singhania entered like a shadow stretching across the room — sharply dressed in a charcoal suit, his eyes unreadable. Cold. Controlled. Dangerous.
Parineeti didn’t flinch. She met his gaze like a mirror meeting steel.
“You called me your legal advisor,” she began, “but I’m beginning to think what you really needed was someone to play damage control.”
Vikram raised an eyebrow as he approached the table, placing his gloves neatly beside the chair before sitting down. “That depends on what kind of damage we’re discussing.”
Parineeti picked up the contract. “Clause 14-B. Shielding your Luxembourg-based shell firm from any legal consequence tied to the government shipping contract? That’s not clever. That’s criminal.”
He didn’t blink. “It’s not my clause. That draft was passed by someone in legal long before your arrival. I assumed you’d identify it. You did.”
“So now you’re impressed?”
“I’m reassured.” His voice lowered. “If you’re to stand beside me in the fire, I need to know you can survive the heat.”
Parineeti narrowed her eyes. “Don’t test me, Mr. Singhania. You want legal counsel, you’ll get it. But I won’t lie for you. I won’t cover for something that stinks of corruption.”
Vikram stood up, slowly, walking toward the window. His voice was quiet, but it carried weight.
“Do you think I don’t know what this case looks like from the outside?” he said. “Do you think I haven’t buried people with better credentials than yours just to protect this company?”
She didn’t move.
“But I didn’t hire you to lie, Parineeti. I hired you because you’re sharp enough to see the truth — and ruthless enough to do something about it.”
She stared at him, silent for a beat.
“Then let’s start with the truth,” she said. “Why is your company wired to a dead firm in Luxembourg? Why are shipments being rerouted through a third-party vendor with no traceable identity?”
Vikram turned slowly, and for the first time, his mask slipped — just slightly.
“There’s someone pulling strings outside my circle,” he said. “Someone who wants to bury Singhania Industries with it. This case isn’t just business. It’s a move in a game of power. And we’re already behind on the board.”
A tense silence stretched between them.
“I need names,” Parineeti said firmly. “I need access to every communication. You don’t want a cover-up? Then don’t make me dig through half-truths.”
He stepped closer. Too close.
“And if I told you that protecting this company might involve doing things you’ll never be able to justify in court?”
She looked up at him, unflinching. “Then you’d better pray I never have to.”
Their eyes locked — not with flirtation, but with fire.
Not enemies. Not allies. Something volatile and in-between.
“Very well, Ms. Gupta,” he said with a slight nod. “I’ll give you everything you need.”
And with that, he walked out, his presence lingering in the room like smoke after a flame.
Parineeti sat back down, her pulse steady but her mind spinning. The game had changed. And now, she was in the center of it.
The dusk painted the skyline in shades of rust and blue as Vikram stood on the Singhania Estate terrace, cigarette between his fingers, untouched. The lights of Mumbai glimmered like secrets waiting to be sold.
Aryan arrived with his usual casual confidence, his blazer slung over his shoulder. “Vyom said she pushed back hard in the meeting.”
Vikram didn’t respond at first. His gaze remained fixed on the horizon.
“She’s too smart to be fooled,” he said finally. “Too curious for her own good.”
Aryan leaned against the balustrade. “And yet you still brought her into the lion’s den.”
“She was the best option. Every other legal mind was too… tame. She bites.”
Aryan chuckled. “You’re not used to being bitten, bhai.”
A beat passed.
“I want her watched,” Vikram said quietly, almost like he was thinking aloud. “Not controlled. Not scared. Just… observed.”
Aryan’s expression turned serious. “You think she’s compromised?”
“No,” Vikram said, shaking his head. “Not yet. But she’s too close to things that are too sensitive. If she connects the wrong dots…”
“You want me to handle it?”
“No,” Vikram said sharply. “You stay clean. Use someone outside the core. Someone she’ll never suspect. Discreet. Soft surveillance. Her meetings. Her calls. Any attempts to trace the Luxembourg accounts.”
Aryan frowned, finally realizing the depth of the risk. “You think she might dig up the offshore ledger?”
“I think she’s already halfway there,” Vikram muttered.
There was silence, punctuated only by the distant noise of the sea.
“She’s not like others,” Aryan said quietly. “And I don’t just mean professionally.”
Vikram’s jaw tightened. “This isn’t personal.”
Aryan gave him a look. “You sure?”
Vikram looked away, the faintest flicker in his eyes betraying something he wouldn’t name.
“This case could burn everything down,” he said instead. “If we lose, Singhania Industries won’t just lose money. We’ll lose territory, alliances… our hold on Mumbai.”
Aryan nodded. “I’ll arrange the watcher. Soft eyes. Close, but silent.”
“And make sure she never knows,” Vikram added. “If she finds out…”
“You’ll lose her?” Aryan asked, not teasing, but honest.
“No,” Vikram replied coldly. “If she finds out, I’ll have to decide whether to destroy her or trust her.”
He crushed the cigarette against the stone, never once lighting it.
And just like that, the conversation ended.
Two brothers.
One storm.
And a woman neither of them could afford to underestimate.
______________________The amber glow of the vintage lamp cast soft shadows across the polished floors of the Gupta residence. The ticking of the old clock on the mantel filled the silence—deliberate, unyielding, like the woman seated beneath it.
Justice Leela sat with her reading glasses perched on her nose, going through a thick legal brief with her usual clinical precision. But her eyes flicked up the moment she sensed her daughter step into the room.
“Still working at this hour?” Parineeti asked, slipping her heels off near the doorway.
Leela looked up slowly. “Says the woman who’s knee-deep in a corporate scandal involving one of Mumbai’s most enigmatic tycoons.”
Parineeti sighed, walking over to the small bar cart and pouring herself a glass of water. “So you’ve heard.”
“I’ve heard everything,” Leela replied evenly. “When Vyom reaches out to a criminal lawyer with no ties to corporate law, it’s not coincidence—it’s strategy. And not his.”
Parineeti smirked. “You think Vikram Singhania plays puppet master?”
“I think Vikram Singhania doesn’t do anything without purpose. And I think you’re letting your curiosity outpace your caution.”
There was a moment of silence.
“I’m not afraid of him,” Parineeti said finally, standing tall.
Leela studied her daughter, pride flickering across her features before she set the brief aside.
“I didn’t raise you to be afraid. I raised you to be formidable. But power doesn’t always show its teeth. Sometimes it waits. Observes. Manipulates.”
Parineeti’s voice softened. “You think I’m being reckless.”
“I think you’re being drawn in,” Leela said, standing now. “Not just to the case. To the man.”
That struck something. Parineeti’s spine stiffened. “This isn’t about him. It’s about the truth. The contracts. The shell companies. The lawsuit that’s quietly threatening a monopoly. I’m doing my job.”
Leela walked up to her and gently touched her cheek. “And that’s what terrifies me. Because when you chase truth into dark places, you rarely come back the same.”
Parineeti blinked, her throat tightening just slightly.
“I won’t break,” she whispered.
“No,” Leela said, her voice low and fierce. “You’ll burn. And you’ll keep walking through fire because you were born from it. Just don’t forget who you are when everything around you starts turning to ash.”
Parineeti nodded, her heart pounding—not from fear, but from the weight of her mother’s faith… and warning.
A phone buzzed in the background. Vikram’s name lit up the screen, casting its glow onto the polished table like a flare in the darkness.
Parineeti didn’t answer. But her eyes stayed on it a moment longer than necessary.
And Leela noticed.
___________________________Vikram stared at the phone screen.
Call ended.
No answer.
His jaw clenched.
He didn’t like repeating himself—especially not twice in a night.
He paced the length of his study in the Singhania Estate, the walls around him lined with artefacts and secrets. The glow of his desk lamp cast long, sharp shadows behind him. A file lay open—legal contracts, red-marked audit sheets, and a list of unnamed shell entities tied to his name.
Parineeti Gupta had the mind of a shark and the instinct of a wolf. And she had been unusually quiet since the last exchange.
He wasn't used to being left waiting. And he wasn't used to people holding power over him—not even accidentally.
She hadn’t answered the call. Not out of negligence.
It was deliberate.
He tapped his fingers on the leather desk surface, rhythm slow, calculated.
Something had changed.
Was it the new document he’d slipped through Vyom to hand her? Was she putting together more than he intended?
Or was it something—or someone—else feeding her?
His mind flicked briefly to Shaurya.
There was a subtlety to his youngest brother’s actions lately. Meetings delayed. Random trips. Conversations ended mid-thought when Vikram entered the room.
And Parineeti had access to something. No, someone. Data. Patterns. Leaks no one else should’ve been able to trace.
The thought carved a sharp line down his temple.
If Shaurya was involved… if he was helping her, even unknowingly—
Vikram stopped pacing and stared out the window.
The city below blinked under a canopy of secrets and betrayal.
He wasn’t angry at her. No. Anger would be too simple.
He was intrigued. Unsettled. And beneath that... there was a warning bell ringing low in his chest.
She was walking closer to the edge of something she didn’t understand. And if he didn’t control the pace, she’d either be swallowed by it—or worse, uncover what she wasn’t meant to.
Vikram picked up the phone again.
This time, he didn’t call.
He stared at her contact for a long moment, thumb hovering, then dropped the phone onto the desk.
“She wants to play smart,” he murmured. “Let’s see how long she lasts in the lion’s den.”
He turned, eyes narrowing as Vyom entered without knocking.
“She didn’t pick up,” Vyom said without needing to ask.
“No.”
Vyom handed him a folder. “Also, our rival’s lawyer submitted an additional affidavit. She hasn’t seen it yet. Do you want me to pass it directly to her, or—”
“I’ll give it myself,” Vikram said, voice quiet but resolute.
Vyom raised an eyebrow. “You sure you want to get that close again?”
Vikram stared at him,
unreadable.
“She’s already too close,” he said, almost to himself.
___________________________
The heavy doors of the Gupta Mansion swung open with a soft creak as Vikram Singhania stepped inside, his presence unmistakable. The butler, who was well accustomed to his comings and goings, didn’t need to announce him.
Parineeti was in her study, as expected, surrounded by piles of paperwork, a few law books scattered across the table. She had been working nonstop for the last few hours—sifting through the chaos of the case. But the moment Vikram entered, she straightened, brushing the dark strands of her hair behind her ear.
“Mr. Singhania,” she said, standing from her desk, her tone formal, yet with a slight undercurrent of something unspoken.
He didn’t waste time with pleasantries. He placed the important documents on the table between them—each folder meticulously arranged, the kind of documents that could shift power in the business world with just a wrong move.
“These are the official contracts related to the shipment issues,” he said. His voice was calm, almost detached. “You’ll find everything you need in those files, including encrypted financial statements and the routing data for the ghost shipments.”
Parineeti leaned over, her fingers brushing the edges of the folders. She lifted one, flipping it open to scan the contents.
Vikram’s gaze never left her, a quiet intensity in his eyes as he watched her absorb the information. It was all carefully calculated. Parineeti was smart—he didn’t need to remind her of that—but he was testing her, measuring her every move. The tension between them was palpable, like two predators circling.
“I’ll go through this tonight,” Parineeti said, her voice steady as she met his eyes. “You’re right. This is what I need. But it’s still risky. If we’re dealing with that kind of network, one slip-up…”
“Won’t be tolerated,” Vikram finished for her, his voice low but commanding. “I didn’t choose you for your caution. I chose you because I need someone who doesn’t hesitate.”
She nodded, her gaze flickering for just a moment, then locking onto his. There was something about him tonight—a coldness, a sharp edge to his presence that was more than usual.
“I won’t disappoint you,” she said, the challenge lingering in her tone.
For a long moment, they stood in silence, and in that silence, the tension between them deepened, crackling like a storm about to break.
Vikram shifted his weight, preparing to leave. But just as he turned, his gaze caught something—a car pulling up in front of the Gupta Mansion. The black luxury sedan glided into the driveway with practiced ease, and Shaurya stepped out.
Vikram’s sharp eyes narrowed, his lips thinning. Shaurya.
He watched as his younger brother walked up to the door, nodding to the butler like they were seeing daily.
Shaurya had barely stepped out of the car when he caught sight of his older brother standing at the threshold of the Gupta Mansion. The flickering porch light glinted off Vikram’s sharp features, carved in stone and unreadable. For a second, Shaurya faltered—his hand still on the car door—eyes locking with Vikram’s in the heavy silence.
He hadn’t expected him to be here. Not tonight. Not like this.
Vikram didn’t move, didn’t speak, but the cold simmer in his gaze said enough. Shaurya straightened his posture and walked toward him, each step calculated, cautious.
“Bhai,” he greeted, nodding politely. “Didn’t know you were still here.”
Vikram’s jaw tightened. “Clearly.”
The air between them thickened, tension rising like a curtain before a confrontation. Shaurya had dealt with worse—hackers, corporate security, even intelligence officers—but nothing unnerved him quite like Vikram’s silence. The kind that forced you to explain yourself before he even asked.
“I’m here to see Parineeti,” Shaurya finally said, keeping his tone light. “Something important about the case she’s working on. I promised her I'd share the data dump I found in the private server clusters linked to one of the ghost shipments.”
Vikram’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes darkened slightly. “You’ve been following this case?”
Shaurya’s mouth curved in a half-smile, casual but not careless. “You know me. I poke around when I get curious. Some of the files she’s investigating crossed paths with the same proxy networks I flagged in that Belarus incident. Thought I’d help her connect the dots.”
“Help her,” Vikram repeated, voice quiet and edged. “Without telling me.”
Shaurya didn’t flinch. “I didn’t know you were personally involved until a few days ago.”
Vikram exhaled slowly, a sharp flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. Then, he stepped aside without a word, motioning toward the house. “Then by all means, let’s not waste time.”
Shaurya blinked in surprise, then followed him in, though every step into the mansion felt like stepping into a minefield.
Inside, Parineeti was still at her desk, flipping through the files Vikram had brought. She looked up as they entered—surprise briefly crossing her face as she saw Shaurya. “You’re here.”
“I am,” he said, then glanced between her and Vikram. “Am I interrupting something?”
“No,” Vikram said flatly, walking past him and pulling a chair to the far end of the study. “Go on. Let’s hear what you have.”
Shaurya set his laptop bag down and opened the screen. “Okay, so I decrypted fragments of the internal logs from the third-party shipping client. One of the shell companies being used to route payments? It links back to a tax haven in the Caymans, and that same company made multiple transactions to a defunct supplier in Croatia.”
Parineeti leaned in. “Croatia? That was never in the client manifest.”
“Exactly. Which means someone either wanted to bury it or it’s being used to reroute something they don’t want customs sniffing around.”
Vikram sat silently, arms folded, eyes unreadable but fixed on Shaurya. He was watching—measuring—not just the intel, but the way Shaurya and Parineeti worked together, how effortlessly they talked, how in sync they seemed.
It didn’t sit right with him.
Parineeti glanced at Vikram. “With this, we might be able to link the ghost shipments to the shell companies directly. That would change everything.”
Vikram gave a slow nod. “Then let’s proceed. But carefully.”
He stood, his gaze lingering a second longer on Shaurya than necessary. “We’ll talk later.”
And with that, he turned and walked out, his silence speaking louder than words.
Shaurya didn’t miss the way Parineeti’s eyes followed him out.
And neither did Vikram.
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