Both men were shocked, knowing Trinity belonged to Goels, which Karan had hidden all this time from them.
“Trinity,” Abhimanyu said finally, stopping in his tracks. “Is Daksh Goel’s company?” He let out a short, humourless breath. “And you never thought it was important to tell us that?”
Rajat shook his head slowly. “All these years, Karan. All these decisions. We stood by every one of them. We guarded your secrets like they were our own. And this…” He looked up angrily. “This wasn’t a small detail to hide.”
Karan, who sat behind his desk, said nothing. His gaze was fixed somewhere past them.
Abhimanyu turned toward him, frustration edging into his voice. “Exactly. We are not just family, Bhai. We are even business partners. We had to know this even before we touched Trinity. Why did you hide it from us?”
He paced in the room, losing his cool.
“I really wonder what Mishti bhabhi must have felt. Being made to work on dismantling her own brother’s company without knowing the truth.”
Rajat exhaled hard, rubbing a hand over his face. “She must have broken down,” he said, his voice tinged with pity. “In all this mess, she’s the collateral damage. I really feel for her.”
Their words reached Karan’s ears, but they did not stay there because his mind was elsewhere.
Back to last night, in his bedroom
Back in the soft glow of fairy lights that should never have existed.
Back in the sight of flowers placed with care, candles burning quietly, and a cake with words he had not been prepared to read.
I love you, Karan.
His jaw tightened, remembering the way rage had overtaken him in an instant. How violently it had surged, different from the cold fury he had lived with for years. How he had stormed out, grabbed her wrist, and dragged her back into that room without giving her even a second to breathe.
He remembered her eyes, the shock in them, the tears in them. He remembered his own merciless voice telling her what she meant to him. Telling her what she would never be.
Any man in his place would have felt that bitterness, he told himself again. Any man who had lost a mother to the hands of her father would feel the same revulsion, the same rage.
So why did his chest ache even now?
Why did the memory of her face look less like guilt and more like devastation the longer he replayed it?
Why did it feel like something inside him had burned and cracked forever, too?
He fisted his fingers, recalling the moment she had swayed, her strength giving up without warning. The way she had fallen into his arms, unconscious, lifeless, as if the events and revelations of that day had finally crushed her.
Why had he panicked then?
Why had he carried her to his bed and not hers?
Why had he not been able to leave her lying there and walk away the way he always did? Not without asking Maria to check on her?
Why had he driven fifty miles through the night, then slept in his car like a man running from his own house, his own wife?
Why?
“Damn it, Karan,” Rajat said sharply, pulling him back into the room. “At least say something now.”
Abhimanyu’s and Rajat’s voices continued, overlapping in low, worried tones, finally breaking the chain of Karan’s thoughts. They were still discussing what had unfolded at the Goel mansion, but there were things Karan had deliberately left unsaid.
He had told them about the confrontation with Daksh, about the collapse that followed. But he had skipped over what had happened later in Wadhwa mansion between him and Mishti. That part was not meant for their opinions. It belonged only to him and Mishti. No one else had the right to touch it.
“Mishti didn’t come to the office today,” Rajat said, concerned. “That worries me.”
Abhimanyu nodded. “I’ve already called Komal,” he said, glancing at Karan once, angrily. “She’s on her way to the house. Mishti Bhabhi shouldn’t be alone right now.”
