Making Her Mine- An IPKKND story.

Chapter 68 - Argument

Shyam's trial had started, and there wasn't any media coverage of it yet, thankfully. But no one from their families had been summoned as witnesses so far, so Arnav couldn't breathe easy just yet .

Mr Roy, Arnav's lawyer, had told him that the courts had agreed to keep their names out of public records, and that his family could testify in private.

Still, he had asked Aman to keep an eye on the media, especially that one journalist who had written a page three piece connecting his wife to the woman who had fallen into his arms in Lucknow.

"Kamini Mehta," Aman said. "I looked into her, she doesn't have any links to AR or you or your family or Shyam, as far as we could make out."

"Just a nosy busybody?" Arnav asked, hating this faceless journalist already. "Is it a crime to get people to follow her?"

Aman hesitated. "Yes."

"Did you contact the owner of the newspaper?"

Aman sighed. "I've already told him to give us a heads up if there's anything more about your personal life. We've threatened to pull advertisements."

Arnav nodded in satisfaction. "There's nothing so far?"

"No. But once we kill one story, she'll probably try to publish it elsewhere, or on a blog or online."

"Can't be helped. As long as the big media organizations don't publish anything, a little thing here and there on the internet is fine."

"I agree..."

"Besides, I'm not as famous as Salman Khan, so I doubt people will pay attention."

"Sir?"

Arnav laughed, as Aman give him a look of great astonishment.

"That's what Khushi told me," he said by way of explanation.

"Er – that's a good point."

Arnav raised his eyebrow.

"Er – I mean, it's a good thing people won't pay attention– ah– I got Khushiji's company registered, by the way. KKGSR Dabba Service."

Arnav took the folder Aman was handing him. "It's a terrible name, she needs to hire some branding people. But she won't listen."

"Well, sir. Not everything has to be sleek like in the fashion world. Masala companies are called MDH and BMK and Dadaji Ka Khaas, and they're still very successful."

Arnav stared at his manager. "That is a good point, Aman," he said, finally.

Damn him if that Aman wasn't still teaching him something new, even now, after all these years.

—

Aarav seemed to be happier in Shantivan than he had supposedly been in the orphanage. He smiled, and tolerated all the cheek pulling, hair smoothing, and kisses and hugs from different members of the family with more patience than Arnav could have ever done.

Arnav couldn't believe no one saw how much the boy was like Khushi. Funny and sweet. Bright and lovable, even after all the tragedy in his life. Di had told Arnav about it one evening after dinner, as they sat at the poolside.

"How did — do you know what happened to his parents?" Arnav had asked.

The family was scattered all over the house, and Khushi had gone off to help Aarav with homework, loudly proclaiming how well she had done in math at school.

"Oh, it's very sad, Chotay," Di said. "His parents had eloped, mixed religion, so they were estranged from their families. His mother died when Aarav was three, she had some heart problem. His father lived with her brother after that, but both were alcoholics. He died last year...Aarav was with his uncle after that, but his teachers intervened because the uncle wasn't looking after him properly. That's how he came to the orphanage. He's such a bright kid. And he's so sweet, even after all that he has gone through. His teachers all love him."