The money HoA invested in training the karigars, the capital spent on increasing production capacity, logistics, designs … all down the drain.
I failed them all. Because someone leaked our plans to them.
Ananya. Rekha.
My teeth clenched so hard my jaw ached.
‘I never gave her anything important. Not about the new line. Because you asked me not to.’ Her voice seemed to coil through me, cinching my insides.
She lied to me.Again.
She was one of the few people who had access to all the details early enough for Lehenga Bazaar to launch an entire collection within a month. Out of them all, she was the only untrustworthy one.
She gave everything to Rekha. And Rekha did this.
My throat tightened with a burning edge. I refused to let them win. I had to regain control. And I had no time to waste.
I called our lawyer, Pritesh, and set a meeting. Then, I worked on a plan for damage control and our next actionable steps.
Harish uncle called, but I let it go to voicemail. I didn’t need pity, only a solution. He texted me, asking me to call him. I would, but now wasn’t the time.
A few hours had passed by the time I started feeling like I had some semblance of an idea on how to sort out this fiasco. Finally, Pritesh showed up. By the time I finished telling him everything, it was late in the evening.
He rubbed his chin. ‘Kauseya isn’t a patented technique. Courts consider fashion iterative. The heritage-inspired spin makes their designs fall under influence and inspiration, not direct copying. Proving plagiarism is going to be tricky.’
‘Tricky, not impossible,’ I said. ‘Does it mean we have a case?’
‘We have proof of the kauseya weave being a Mahala family tradition dating back centuries. We also have proof that you’ve been working on this with them for months. Lehenga Bazaar has been a thorn in our side for years. And after what they did last time, we might be able to establish a pattern of them trying to sabotage and steal your work,’ he said. ‘Don’t get me wrong, winning this case is still a long shot, but we have a chance.’
‘That’s all I need.’
‘Great. Now, how about a chai and some snacks? And where’s Vikram? He was—’
‘I’m sorry, Pritesh,’ I said, cutting him off before he devolved into useless chit-chat. ‘But as you know, I have a crisis on hand. We might have to cut this meeting short.’
‘Of course.’ He rose and shook my hand. ‘Best of luck.’
I leaned back in my chair and watched the door close behind him. Weariness settled on my shoulders. Luck was something that hadn’t been on my side for a while now. Everything I touched seemed to crumble into ashes.
My phone rang. Sharan Mahala.
Dread slithered up my spine as I answered.
‘Jai sahab, what happened? What did you do?’ His voice trembled with a mix of anger and incredulity.
‘Please believe me,’ I said, forcing my voice to remain steady. ‘I had nothing to do with this. I’m doing everything I can to fix it. Lehenga Bazaar will pay for stealing our work. They—’
‘Our?It’smyfamily’s legacy,’ he cut in sharply. ‘Centuriesof blood and sweat. And theystoleit. Wetrustedyou. How could you let this happen?’
‘I have a plan to fix it. I have also talked to my lawyer, and we’re suing them. I promise you that I will not let them get away with this. Your legacy will remain yours.’
‘Will you, Jai sahab?’ he demanded. ‘Youcame tous. You promised us recognition and money. You gave ushope. And this is what we get? I would rather kauseya die than live with someone else’s name on it.’
I swallowed hard. ‘I won’t fail you. I will make this right.’
Fuck peace in the family. I was going to give Rekha a piece of my mind. And Dad and Ayaan needed to know what she’d done.
It was almost eight in the evening, which meant they must have returned home.
