A Bargain Made with Frosting

ch 49. Shadows of the Past: A Buried Secret Emerges

While Annika and Shivay basked in marital bliss, dark shadows lurked at the edges of their happiness. Natasha and Rohit, two hearts consumed by envy, watched their joy with simmering resentment.

Natasha, haunted by the life she cast aside when she broke off her engagement with Shivay, couldn't bear to see him happy with someone else. The picture-perfect life she once envisioned for herself now belonged to Annika.

Rohit, on the other hand, couldn't stomach Shivay's success. Their childhood rivalry had morphed into a twisted competition, where Rohit coveted everything Shivay possessed. He had snatched Natasha away, but seeing Shivay's contentment with Annika reignited his competitive spirit.

Fuming in her office, Natasha confronted Rohit, her voice laced with frustration. "Six months! And they're only getting stronger. Their marriage, a supposed sham, has blossomed into something real. They've even..." Her voice trailed off, a venomous glare shooting towards Rohit.

Rohit, ever the cunning manipulator, soothed her with false assurances. "Patience, Natasha. We can't barge in with brute force again. This time, we need a flawless plan." A cruel glint flickered in his eyes. "Remember our last impulsive attempt? A disaster."

Natasha slumped back in her chair, defeat momentarily clouding her features. "But how long? Are we supposed to wait until we're old and gray?"

"Patience, my dear," Rohit assured her, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "My investigator has been working tirelessly for the past six months, digging into Annika's past. He'll unearth something, some buried secret that will be our key to separating them."

Natasha scoffed. "Six months with nothing, and you think he'll suddenly strike gold? Don't be ridiculous."

Rohit's smirk faltered for a brief moment, a flicker of doubt crossing his eyes. He quickly masked it with forced confidence. "There has to be something, Natasha. Everyone has secrets. We just need the right leverage."

"Leverage that doesn't blow up in our faces again," Natasha countered, her voice laced with a bitter memory of their previous failed attempt.

Rohit steepled his fingers, his gaze hardening. "This time will be different. We've learned from our mistakes. We'll let the investigator do his job. And in the meantime, we keep a close eye on them. Observe. Learn their routines, their vulnerabilities. The more we know, the easier it will be to exploit them."

Natasha nodded curtly, a spark of malevolent determination rekindling in her eyes. "Very well. But if this investigator comes up empty-handed again, we'll have to consider other options."

"Agreed," Rohit conceded. "But for now, let's focus on gathering intel. We'll make their perfect world crumble, Natasha. Just you wait and see."

One week later, Rohit and Natasha found themselves in Natasha's apartment, a change from their usual meeting spots.

"This must be important," Natasha said, eyeing Rohit's guarded expression. "You insisted on secrecy and even brought us here."

"It's a surprise," Rohit replied, a sly smile playing on his lips. He reached into his bag and produced a brown envelope. "My investigator finally delivered something interesting about Annika."

Natasha's curiosity piqued. She snatched the envelope from him and eagerly devoured the contents. A frown creased her forehead as she finished reading.

"This... can't be true," she finally said, her voice laced with disbelief. "Annika's past... connected to you all?"

Rohit shrugged. "Imagine my surprise. But this could work to our advantage. We can leverage this information to manipulate Shivay. Even if he loves Annika dearly, finding out he's somehow responsible for her parents' death could be a wedge between them."

Natasha remained unconvinced. "But what if he doesn't leave her after this?"

"Then," Rohit said, a glint of determination in his eyes, "we'll find another way. This might be just the first move. But let's see how Shivay reacts to this revelation first."

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Shivay's head snapped up, a flicker of surprise crossing his features as Rohit entered his office. The playful glint Rohit usually held in his eyes was replaced by a calculated seriousness.

"Rohit," Shivay acknowledged, a hint of curiosity lacing his voice. "What brings you here?"

"Something important," Rohit replied, his voice devoid of its usual casual charm. He pulled up a chair across from Shivay's desk and settled in, his gaze unwavering. "Something I think we need to talk about."

Shivay leaned back in his chair, a crease forming between his brows. "Alright, shoot."

Rohit took a deep breath, his fingers drumming nervously against the armrest. "Remember back when we were eighteen? The fight you had with your dad, the one that made you storm out of the house?"

Shivay's mind reeled as Rohit's words pierced through the carefully constructed shield he'd built around that night. The memory flooded back – the heated argument with his father, the slamming of the door, the reckless driving fueled by a storm of emotions. But there was more, a part he'd deliberately suppressed.

He remembered his father, enraged and unsteady, following close behind in another car. The memory of his own speeding car swerved to avoid an oncoming vehicle, the screech of tires, the sickening crunch of metal. But then, another detail, a horrifying realization that had been buried deep – his father, impaired and incapable of reacting, had slammed into a car on the deserted road.

The image of the other car, flipping violently in the air, sent a fresh wave of nausea churning in Shivay's gut. He'd driven on, guilt gnawing at him, until the sound of another collision brought him to a halt. He'd rushed back, finding his father dazed but relatively unharmed, and had taken him to the hospital, consumed by a desperate need to fix his own mistake.

It was only after hours at the hospital, the adrenaline fading, that the horrifying truth had sunk in – the people in the other car. He'd called the police then, guilt a gnawing monster in his gut.

His grandfather, the ever-pragmatic guardian, had intervened. The accident, a terrible tragedy fueled by a night of bad decisions, was kept under wraps. No names were leaked, the truth buried deep. Shivay, burdened by guilt and the unspoken truth, had pushed the memory down, a dark stain on his conscience.

The knot of guilt in Shivay's chest tightened to the point of suffocation. "Yeah," he replied, his voice cautious. "What about it?"

Rohit's next words ripped the scab off the wound, exposing the raw, infected flesh beneath. "The couple who died that night," Rohit said, his voice laced with a cruel twist, "were Annika's parents."

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