The entire office had gone silent; employees were frozen in place as they watched Kushal barely contain his rage today.
He didn’t stop moving, didn’t release his grip on Arundhati’s wrist until he had dragged her into her cabin. The moment they were inside, Kushal stepped closer, his fingers reaching out to examine the injury, but she slapped his hand away.
“Don’t act like you care,” she snapped.
“Are you insane?” he hissed, stepping closer again. “You were attacked! You’re bleeding! What on earth makes you think I wouldn’t care?”
She didn’t answer, but her nostrils flared.
Kushal let out a harsh breath, shoving a frustrated hand through his hair before his voice dropped deadly lower.
“Had it been anyone else in your place, someone from this firm, someone I know, I would have cared.” His dark eyes locked onto hers.
“And you? You are still my damn wife, Arundhati. How dare you ask me if I care or not?”
His words slammed into her like a blow.
A part of her wanted to scoff, to dismiss it as another one of his manipulative tactics.
But there was truth in his voice.
And that’s what angered her more than anything.
“There is no point in you caring now,” she bit out.
“What the hell does that mean?”
Arundhati took a slow, deep breath, trying to steady herself despite the pain throbbing in her temple.
“All this happened because ofyou,” she stated coldly. “Had you not plotted that fake media story about Sadhna’s past money fraud, those protestors wouldn’t have been here today. You thinkpeople don’t see through this? That they don’t know exactly what we did?”
Kushal’s temper flared instantly.
“Oh, please. You think these women are standing here out of pure concern for Sadhna? You really believe their fight is honest? Don’t be naive, Arundhati.”
He took a step closer.
“I know groups like this. They don’t protest for justice. They protest for money. Sadhna’s team must have paid them to pull this stunt, to create chaos, to paint us as the villains. So, tell me, does that make her any better?”
Arundhati glared at him with fire flashing in her eyes.
“They would have come eventually,” she admitted. “But at least then,my husbandwouldn’t have been responsible for the pain I’m in today.”
She pointed at her bleeding forehead, her chest rising and falling with emotion. Kushal’s throat tightened.
Husband.
The word suddenly suffocated him. She wasn’t wrong. This had been his doing. Indirectly or not, it had led to this. But Kushal was not the kind of man who bowed down to guilt. Before he could reply, the doors to the hall swung open.
Arundhati’s secretary rushed in, carrying the first aid kit, but she wasn’t alone.
Raj Verma entered right behind her.
The moment Raj’s gaze landed on Arundhati’s injury, his expression darkened with concern.
“Aru!” he strode forward immediately with worry. “Are you alright?”
Arundhati didn’t answer right away.