Page 121 of Lawfully Yours
But soon she realised that he wasn’t even taking her to his cabin to talk.
“Kushal... your cabin is that way.”
He didn’t answer. Just reached the door on the right and pushed it open, stepping aside to let her in.
Kamya froze for a half-second as her eyes scanned the nameplate before walking inside.
Arundhati Nair.
Kushal stepped in after her and closed the door behind them.
Across the room, Arundhati looked up from her laptop, her hands still resting on the keyboard she had only just begun typing on. Surprise flickered in her expression.
Kushal had brought Kamya here? Tohercabin? Not his?
It was the last thing she had expected.
If their marriage had ever begun to crack, it had started withthis woman.
And now here Kamya was, walking into her cabin like she still owned a piece of him. Like she had a history that Arundhati could never compete with.
Her fingers curled slowly into fists under the desk. Then Kushal glanced at her.Not the kind of glance that carried charm or flirtation. This one was different.
A look that said:I know this is messy, but let’s keep our personal issues aside and act professionally. Let’s do this the way we always do—together.
And despite the fire boiling under her skin, despite everything Kamya represented in their fractured marriage story, Arundhati gave the slightest nod.
“Arundhati and I are partners,” he said, visibly relaxed now as he walked across the room to stand opposite Kamya, near Arundhati’s desk. “And this conversation needs to happen in front of her.”
Kamya took a moment longer than necessary to compose her smile. “Oh, right,” she said airily. “You two are working together on Anant’s case now, aren’t you? Hence… partners.”
Arundhati gritted her teeth.
Of course, Kamya would reduce it to that—work. As if the wordpartnersdidn’t stretch beyond legal files and client meetings. As if she didn’t know that they were still married. Still legally bound. Still tied by a thread neither of them had officially cut.
Kamya knew everything, yet, choosing to ignore it.
Or worse, she was refusing to acknowledge it.
Because for Kamya, maybe the idea of Arundhati and Kushal still being life partners, was too inconvenient to digest. Especially if she still held on to the illusion that there could be space for her in Kushal’s life again.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Kushal continued. “By being the co-conspirator in Noyonika’s fabricated story? You’ve jeopardized our client’s case. You’ve crossed a line.”
Kamya tilted her head, clearly unbothered. “I didn’tdoanything. Noyonika is a friend. And I just offered a friend a suggestion. Whether she acted on it was entirely her decision. I’m not responsible for her stupidity.”
Kushal’s jaw flexed, and he took a sharp step forward. “You call advising someone to slander a public figure‘just a suggestion’? You call encouraging her to lie to the national mediaharmless?”
Kamya gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Please. Everyone lies in this business. Drama is good PR. You know that better than anyone.”
Arundhati stood now, unable to stay silent any longer. “This isn’t PR, Kamya. This is a courtroom. Where people’s lives, reputations, and families are on trial. And if you think we’re going to let you walk away from this without consequences, think again.”
Kamya turned slowly to her, eyes narrowing. “Are you threatening me?”
Kushal spoke before Arundhati could. “No. We’re informing you.”
He pulled a file from inside his jacket and tossed it on the desk in front of Kamya. “This contains enough to subpoena you—recordings, call logs, and screenshots. We know exactly how many times you spoke to Noyonika in the last four weeks. Every ‘suggestion’ you gave her. Every lie you helped shape.”
Kamya’s eyes flicked to the folder, the first sign of real tension crossing her face.
