A hesitant smile curves my lips as I think of how the three of us—Samarth, Sonia, and I started out together as interns. Howwe pulled endless all-nighters chasing stories, celebrating every tiny victory with coffee, Maggi, and impromptu dance sessions in the newsroom. Over time, our bond only grew stronger, and we each found success in our professional lives. Samarth rose to become the Managing Editor. Sonia earned her place as one of the most trusted field reporters. And I carved my own path to become one of the top journalists at the firm.
I drop onto the couch beside her. My tone softens as I take her hand in mine and give it a gentle squeeze.
“Listen, I’m not trying to make you feel bad. But going to the hospital alone to get an abortion? Sonia, that wasn’t smart.” I say, not as a journalist, but as someone who’s genuinely worried about her friend.
“What else could I do?” Her brown eyes rise to meet mine, and her chin trembles, but she keeps going. “I couldn’t tell my mom that her daughter got pregnant without being married. She’s still recovering, barely sleeping after losing Dad. You know how fragile she is. She just survived a heart attack. The doctor said one more shock could…” She trails off, wiping her eyes. “I couldn’t do that to her.”
My heart aches for her. Sonia lost her dad to cancer last year, and even then, she didn’t fall apart. She held it together for her mom, becoming her strength when she could’ve easily broken down herself.
I breathe out slowly. “But still, Sonia—”
“No, don’t. Please don’t,” she cuts in right away. “You think I don’t know how stupid it was? You think Iwantedto do this alone?” Her breath hitches. “Please, understand, I didn’t have a choice. I just… I didn’t know what else to do, Meera. So please, stop reminding me how I’ve screwed up my life with my own hands.”
I swallow hard, the lump in my throat refusing to budge. “I won’t ask for details,” I say softly. “You don’t have to tell meanything you’re not ready to. But Sonia…” I pause, holding her eyes. “At least tell me his name. Who the hell is he?”
A few moments of silence stretch between us as I wait for her to say the name. I don’t even know what I’ll do once I hear it, but one thing is certain. The person who hurt my friend won’t be at peace.
“It’s Veer Rathore,” she says finally, her voice breaking on his name.
My stomach turns the moment I hear the name. “You mean—”
“The younger son of the business tycoon, Mr. Rajdeep Rathore,” Samarth’s voice completes my sentence.
I look up to see him walking towards us, carrying two mugs of coffee.
“The Rathores,” he continues, his tone clipped, “Rich and filthy powerful. To the world, they own half the pubs in the city, but behind the scenes, they’re tied to everything illegal — drug rackets, criminal network, and more, all protected by political backing.” He hands a mug to Sonia, then to me, before taking the seat opposite us. “They’re not people you cross easily.”
I wrap my hands around the steaming mug. Samarth is right. The Rathores aren’t people you mess with. I’ve never met any of them personally, but I’ve heard enough to know the kind of power they hold in this city. Mr. Rajdeep Rathore built an empire after his wife died years ago, leaving behind two sons who now run most of his businesses. Their influence stretches everywhere—politics, media, even the police.
A few months ago, I’d tried digging into a story about their mob connections, but it never saw the light of day. The higher-ups killed the story before it could go to print. I still remember the look my chief editor gave me, a silent warning that said,drop it if you want to keep your job.
I kept quiet back then, but not this time.
As I watch Sonia continue to tremble, something inside me burns hotter than any warning, sharper than reason. This isn’t about a story anymore. It’s personal.
“They think they can do anything and get away with it. Not this time,” I say, my voice hard as stone. “This time, I’ll make damn sure Veer Rathore regrets ever laying a hand on my friend.”
Sonia’s head snaps up, fear flashing in her eyes. “No! You can’t. They’ll destroy you. They’ll destroy…us.”
Samarth leans forward grimly, his elbows resting on his knees, his eyes locking with mine. “She’s right about the danger, Meera,” he says quietly. Then he turns to Sonia. “But Meera isn’t wrong either.”
Sonia frowns. “What does that even mean?”
He looks between us, his eyes softening a little. “Meera doesn’t back down once her mind is made up. If anyone’s going to bring the Rathores down, it’ll be her.”
“You’ve both lost it if you think you can make them pay,” Sonia snaps, terror breaking through her voice. “Do you even realise what’s at stake? If the news of my abortion gets out…” She shakes her head. “My life will be ruined. My mother, my career, everything.”
“Your name won’t be dragged through this, I promise you,” I assure her, giving her hands a gentle squeeze once more. “And Veer, the asshole that he is, wouldn’t want the abortion news out either. Men like him hate scandal. There are ways to make him pay without sacrificing your reputation.”
“Sonia, you need to trust us on this,” Samarth adds.
I look at him and give a thankful nod, then turn back to Sonia. “For now, the first step is simple. We go to him and see what he says.”
Sonia swallows, the fight draining out of her. After a moment, she slowly nods. “Okay,” she whispers, wiping her cheeks as she rises unsteadily on her feet.
I stand up and reach out to steady her. Without another word, Samarth slips on his jacket. I grab my bag from the couch and swing it over my shoulder as we all head for the door. Seconds later, the three of us climb into Samarth’s black jeep.
As Samarth starts the engine, I glance back from the passenger seat and watch Sonia stare out the window.
