Prerish: A Collection of Tales ✔️

~ Shot - 3 ~ {Completed}

"Mehra, I'm asking you something. Is there something you'd like to share?" Rishab's voice was low, a dangerous rumble that vibrated with suppressed fury. It wasn't a question anymore; it was a warning.

Mehra visibly gulped, his eyes darting around the sterile hospital room as if searching for an escape. He knew the volatile temper of his boss. "Sir, yesterday, when you were injured and being operated on, Mrs. Bajaj ordered me to find all the information on your Maasi and Ms. Tanvi." He paused, a deep breath steadying him. "She said she doesn't feel good vibes from them. And Sir, I don't think you or Ma'am will like what I found out."

Rishab's brows furrowed, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "Mrs. Bajaj asked you to find out about Maasi and Tanvi? So, what did you find?" His tone was tight, the initial surprise quickly replaced by a simmering impatience.

Mehra stepped closer, lowering his voice, though the words still hit Rishab like a physical blow. "Sir, your Maasi and her daughter, Tanvi, are responsible for the accident you got into while saving Mrs. Bajaj. But this was meant for Mrs. Bajaj."

Each word was a hammer blow to Rishab's gut. The image of Prerana, pregnant and vulnerable, flashed before his eyes.

Mehra continued, his voice grim. "Not only that, Sir, they are responsible for Kuki Ma'am's illness. They've been feeding her wrong medicines. And also, Sir, they are planning to kill you and Ma'am so that they will be responsible for Kuki Ma'am and the property." He watched Rishab's face, the raw pain and disbelief morphing into a cold, lethal rage. "Whatever accidents have happened till now, Sir, they were planned attempts by them only. And I have every proof to prove that, including their self-confession."

He produced a folder, thick with documents and recordings, placing it on the bedside table. As the seconds stretched, Rishab's anger escalated, a volcanic eruption of hate, fury, and gut-wrenching disgust. He hated them, those two women he had trusted, loved even. But more than that, a crushing wave of guilt washed over him. He was a father, a husband, a protector. And he had failed. He hadn't saved his own family, the very people he loved more than anything in the world.

Then, a thought, sharp and undeniable, sliced through the maelstrom of his emotions. A shocking realization, yet one that resonated deep within his soul: he loved his wife. His wife, Prerana, whom he had met only three months ago, in a marriage born of a deal. The confession, whispered in his own mind, left him stunned, yet filled with a fierce, protective certainty.

"Mehra," Rishab's voice was a low growl, laced with iron. "Get me the discharge papers." His eyes, dark and dangerous, fixed on Mehra. "And I'm not taking no as an answer. Ask David to get the car ready. We're going to Basu Baadi now."

Mehra nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the storm that was about to break. He knew, better than anyone, that once his boss made a decision, no one could change it. Not even himself. The calm before the inevitable tempest had just shattered.

The imposing facade of Basu Baadi loomed large, a symbol of a past he thought he'd escaped. Rishab, leaning heavily on Mehra, had arrived mere minutes after Prerana, the hospital's sterile scent clinging to him like a second skin. As they reached the threshold of the grand entrance, a wave of familiar voices washed over him, freezing him in place. It was Anurag's voice, laced with accusations, then Prerana's, clear and resolute, cutting through the emotional cacophony.

He felt a primal urge to stride in, to rip Anurag limb from limb for daring to question her, for laying bare a pain he had tried to bury. But then Prerana's words hit him, slowing the beat of his furious heart. He heard her, confessing. Confessing the real reason she married him. A reason he always believed she'd keep hidden, even from her own family. His heart somersaulted, a chaotic mix of shock and something intensely warm, intensely fragile.