“We won’t lie,” he said smoothly. “We’ll simply... suggest that there were past legal issues, ones that you, as her husband, Anant, chose to keep out of the limelight. Out of love, of course. Out of respect for your wife.”
Anant looked hesitant. Arundhati looked murderous.
“You’re talking about twisting the truth, Kushal,” she argued.
“I’m talking about winning, Arundhati.”
Her fists clenched on the table.
“You can’t just fabricate scandals.”
“We’re not fabricating anything,” he said confidently. “We’re controlling the narrative. It’s what the opposition is doing. We’rejust doing it better. And right now, this isn’t about what’s right or wrong. It’s about saving Anant.”
Arundhati angrily turned to Anant once more.
“Are you sure about this?” she asked. “You really want to add false evidence? Fabricate scandals? Twist the truth?”
Kushal, still leaning against the desk, folded his arms across his chest, watching the conversation, as if he knew exactly what was going to happen next.
Anant ran a hand through his hair, his expression weighed down by exhaustion and desperation.
“I don’t have a choice, Arundhati.” He finally replied. “Right now, my reputation is at stake. Everything that I have built and earned so far…my career, my name, my entire legacy, Sadhna is tearing it apart one false claim at a time. If I let her continue, I won’t just lose this case, I’ll lose everything.”
He sighed, rubbing his temples.
“So yes,” he said finally. “Let’s go with Kushal’s way.”
Kushal smirked.
His knuckles rapped gently against the desk, which only added to Arundhati’s frustration.
Just then, Anant’s phone buzzed loudly on the table. He glanced at the caller ID, his expression shifting to one of urgency.
“I need to take this call—excuse me,” he said, already pushing back his chair.
Without another word, he strode toward the door, stepping outside, leaving only the two of them in the room.
Arundhati broke the silence first.
“I hadn’t expected anything different from you today.”
Kushal sighed, exasperated, running a hand through his already perfectly styled hair.
“You can really go to any extent to win, can’t you?”
She should have been used to this side of him—the strategist, the manipulator, the man who never played fair—but tonight, something about it crawled under her skin more than usual.
“Call it what you want,” he mused, pushing off the desk. “But at the end of the day, no one cares how you play the game. They only remember who won.”
Arundhati stepped forward, standing right in front of him.
“Yeah, right,” she scoffed. “No one remembers how you play the game… but they still know, don’t they? Just like everyone here in this office knows why you married me in the first place, Kushal.”
His jaw tightened.
She leaned in just a fraction.
“To be the next heir of this office. Of Verma & Associates. To make my uncle hand over this firm to you once he plans his retirement.”