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“I need it back,” I assert firmly.
Vishnu’s casual demeanour instantly transforms into a stern expression as he shakes his head in outright refusal.
“I cannot hand it over to you, Meher.” Vishnu denies.
“What?” I snap, incredulous. “Why not?”
“Because that evidence not only exposes Tripathi but also the Walia family. And I cannot risk placing them in anyone else’s hands, including yours. I don’t want Ayaan to manipulate you into surrendering the pen drive to him. If he gets his hands on this proof, he could use it to implicate your father and Aksh again. As the protector of your family, I cannot allow that to happen. So, rest assured, I will keep it secure for life.”
It’s a cunning move on his part. I hadn’t realised Vishnu would outsmart me in my own game.
“So, you don’t trust me either?” I inquire, a tinge of annoyance seeping into my voice.
“I trust you,” he smirks, meeting my gaze with a serious look. “I just don’t trust the man you love.”
Well, he has a point. With such critical evidence, Ayaan would not hesitate to exploit Dad’s reputation and jeopardise his political career. For now, I reluctantly let the pen drive remain in its current secure location. In the hands of our protector—the Rook!
It’s comforting to know that there is someone who is so committed to safeguarding our family, our reputation and our well-being from any harm. It provides us with a sense of security and reduces our worries.
CHAPTER 17
AYAAN
One Week Later
I relentlessly strike the punching bag, my fists colliding with it again and again. The pain shoots through my hand, but I hardly register it amidst the turmoil within me. Memories flood my mind, replaying the moment Meher ended our relationship.
‘I put my faith in you, Ayaan, and you brutally crushed it.’
‘Our relationship, our desires, our love. I’m ending it all here. No more love. No more trust issues. No more pain.’
I hit the punching bag again. How could I think that she betrayed me? The look of hurt in her eyes when she broke our relationship still haunts me, piercing my heart with guilt.
I curse myself for my foolishness, for being reckless and brash. The headlines about our kiss at Arya Bhavan that were leaked to the media were my doing. My assumptions and anger blinded me so much that I failed to see the truth. Meher wasn’t my adversary; she was the woman I loved. She is the woman I still love. How could I have treated her with such hostility, thinking she had chosen her family over me? I was so wrong.
I’ve made countless attempts to reach Meher over the past week, desperate to meet her and resolve our issues, but she hasn’t answered my calls. I’m aware that she has been reading my messages. I’ve sent her several, pouring my heart out, yet she hasn’t responded to any of them. Meher is keeping her word, keeping her distance, and it’s tearing me apart from the inside. The distance she has put between us is slowly suffocating my soul.
Each punch I throw at the bag is fuelled by frustration and self-hatred. Sweat pours down my body, mixing with the blood oozing from my wounded fist. But the physical pain is nothing compared to the anguish I feel inside. I hate myself for hurting the woman who means everything to me.
Meher has hardly come out of the Walia House in the last few days. Her security has been beefed up, and her family is leaving no stone unturned in protecting her after Tripathi tried to kidnap her for the evidence against him. Yep, they were Tripathi’s men. Aksh Walia himself filed a complaint against Tripathi after Meher was rescued. It came as a shock to me as I never took him to be the one who believed that‘Family loyalty runs deep.’
The media has been having a field day, with rumours and speculations galore, suggesting that Meher’s abduction was a result of political revenge, which is far from the truth. The Walia family is shrewd and has devised a clever strategy to safeguard their involvement in bribing Tripathi. They have struck a deal with him, pretending political animosity in order to keep their dark truths hidden. Krish’s sources have shared this internal information with us, revealing that Aksh possesses additional evidence against Tripathi’s other illicit activities. As a result, Tripathi remained silent about the Walia family’s role in bribing him to obstruct the Mashaal Project and prevented Aksh from exposing them to the media. It’s a harsh reality of politics where one person’s vulnerability becomes another’s advantage.
I channel my rage to the punching bag once again, my eyes locking onto the black King chess piece on the table just behind it. Usually, just looking at it is enough to give me the power and strength to fight any situation like a King, but this time, I’m on my own. I’ve hurt the woman I love, and I’ll do anything in my power to restore her faith in me. I shouldn’t have let my own misguided assumptions destroy what we had. But now, I’ll find a way to prove my love and make amends for the pain I have caused my Queen. No matter how long it takes, I’ll do whatever it takes to win back Meher’s trust and love.
Krish enters the room, trying to stop my self-inflicted pain.
“Stop hurting yourself, Ayaan. All you’ve been doing this week is causing yourself physical agony. That won’t bring Meher back,” he implores.
I respond with another angry punch to the bag, refusing to acknowledge his words. Krish persists, trying to convince me further.
“This isn’t the path to redemption either. You have to approach it differently this time if you want to win her over, buddy.”
I keep punching the bag, paying no heed to his banter, but he continues.
“You know, I totally understand your situation, buddy. When your partner doesn’t let you speak because she’s angry, where else can you channel all that pent-up energy?” he playfully jabs.
I know what he is referring to. After we had rescued Meher from her abductors and I had introduced her to Krish, she had directed all her frustration on him. And despite the pleading glances he sent my way, I didn’t intervene. He needed to hear her perspective, just as I did. After all, Raj, his contact, had inadvertently contributed to the misunderstandings between us.
