Page 44 of Lawfully Yours
She stiffened ever so slightly. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t take me wrong. You are quite popular in our office. The legendary anti-nepotism niece who refuses to work for her uncle’s firm because she believes in earning everything without family names attached. The one who’d rather set up her own law firm than breathe the same air as her uncle’s legacy.”
She folded her arms. “So, you’ve done your homework. Congratulations. Still doesn’t mean you get to mock me.”
“I wasn’t mocking,” he said smoothly. “Just pointing out your flair for rebellion.”
She gave a short, dry laugh. “Whatever you call me. But it’s far better than riding someone else’s coattails to glory. I prefer earning my wins.”
His eyes glinted. “Spoken like someone who’s allergic to team effort.”
“And you sound like someone who’s been handed a pedestal and now thinks it’s a throne.”
He tilted his head, amused. “Touché. Though I must admit, the view from up here is excellent.”
“Confidence is great. Delusion, not so much,” she scoffed.
Raj laughed nervously. “Alright, alright—enough. This is a party, not a courtroom. Play nice.”
“I am playing nice,” Arundhati said sweetly, not breaking eye contact.
Kushal slid his hands into his pockets and gave her a crooked smile. “You do have a courtroom presence. Even in heels.”
She looked down at her stiletto-clad feet and arched a brow. “And you have the look of someone who underestimates people just in their first meeting.”
Raj sighed. “God. I should’ve poured myself another drink before introducing you two.”
Kushal didn’t respond right away. His gaze dipped briefly to her lips, then back up.
“Well,” he said, cooly. “It’s going to be a fun evening. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll mingle with the non-combative guests and come back.”
With that, he nodded at Raj, gave her one last look, and melted back into the crowd, leaving Arundhati simmering.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the glass. She hadn’t expected the man to be this cocky. Or this… attractive.
And yet, for the rest of the party, even though they didn’t speak again, she could feel him.
Watching her.
Even when he raised a toast to Raj Verma, his eyes skimmed the room and settled on her for a moment too long.
“This man,” he said, raising his glass, “who turned courtrooms into classrooms and chaos into clarity. Raj Verma didn’t just give me a desk; he gave me purpose.”
Something in Arundhati softened. Beneath his arrogance was passion, and extreme respect for her uncle.
“If I ever walked into court with my head high, it’s because this man showed me how to stand tall, even when the odds were stacked,” he said, raising his glass. “He’s yelled at me, shut the door on my face, and once told me my draft looked like it was written by a caffeinated teenager... but he also backed me when no one else did. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what makes Raj Verma a legend. He didn’t just teach me how to win cases, he taught me why some battles are worth losing, and why others... you fight with your whole damn soul.”
His speech that night moved many. But even as the applause swelled, Arundhati wasn’t clapping. She was watching him. And he was already watching her.
Even after the speech, his gaze found her in the crowd. Their eyes locked for just a second longer than polite company would allow before he turned away, raising his glass with a crooked half-smile.
She tried to look away, mingle, distract herself. But his presence pulled at her like gravity.
When he laughed with his colleagues, tossing back a drink, his eyes flicked sideways again, to check if she was noticing. She was. And that amused twist of his lips told her he knew it.
When someone dragged him onto the dance floor, he resisted at first, holding up his hands like a lawyer objecting in court, but eventually relented, moving with that same lithe, deliberate grace he might be carrying in the court. She told herself not to look. Not to care. But her gaze betrayed her. And when he spun a colleague around and caught her watching, his smirk curved, slow and smug. It wasn’t playful; it was a dare.
Even when he wasn’t looking directly at her, she felt him. Felt the way his awareness circled her, like a predator never too far from its target. His gaze skimmed her shoulder when she passed near the bar.
