The illegitimate daughter of a powerful businessman, she was sent to live with her six half-brothers after her father's sudden death.
The boys were born from privilege, pride, and perfectly manicured bloodlines. No one welcomed her. No one cared.
De...
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I stopped outside Atharyu's study, staring at the door. My knuckles hovered before I finally knocked.
"Come in," came his voice. The kind of calm that made me want to slam the door just to break it.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The smell of old leather and ink greeted me first, and then the sight I hadn't wanted—Atharyu wasn't alone.
Aditya leaned against the far wall, arms folded, his sharp eyes softer than usual.
Ranveer sat across from Atharyu's desk, his posture calm, like he'd been listening for a while.
"I wanted to speak to you," I said, my tone flat but firm, "alone."
Atharyu's eyes lifted to mine. They were steady, soft in a way he reserved only for me.
But the words that came out of his mouth made my teeth grind. "You can say it here. They already know."
Heat crawled up my neck. He told them? Without asking me?
The betrayal felt personal, like someone reading my diary out loud.
My jaw locked so tight I half-wondered if it might crack.
"They'll be of help," he added, still infuriatingly gentle.
Help? Oh, sure. Like a toothache is helpful when you're already dying of a headache.
I curled my fists at my sides, forcing myself not to snap. It was bad enough trying to argue with Atharyu—now I had two unwanted bonus features in the room.
"Do you have something more to add?" He asked, as if redirecting me would erase the fact that I was boiling inside.
I held his gaze until my pride itched, then sat down when he gestured.
Fine. Sit.
But don't think I'm tamed.
"There's something I'll know tomorrow," I said finally. "So we wait."
Aditya's voice cut in, "From where?" His voice carried concern rather than interrogation.
That annoyed me more. He had no right.
"That's for me to know and you to wait," I shot back.
Ranveer leaned forward then, his tone quiet but sure. "You don't need to take the risk. Just say the word and we'll handle it. We can get the information."
And there it was. That ache I couldn't quite name.
Because when I was younger, when I had stumbled into this house like an unwanted guest, Ranveer hadn't been warm, but he hadn't been cruel. And somewhere deep, I had tucked away the stupidest thing—hope.
Hope is a liar. It promises too much, and when it shatters, it cuts deeper than hatred ever could.
So I gave him nothing back except the frost in my voice. "I already told Mr. Atharyu—we're working equally. I won't sit back while you do the dirty work. I'll do it on my terms."
