Abhimanyu's POV
I drove towards Sharma & Co Pvt Ltd, determined to dig deeper into the case. With a pile of new cases already waiting, I had only two days to wrap this one up. No delays. No distractions.
"I need to meet Ms. Sinha, Mr. Rahul Sharma's secretary," I told the receptionist, handing over my business card.
She glanced at it before nodding. "You can meet her on the third floor, sir."
When I stepped into Ms. Sinha's office, I introduced myself. "Excuse me, I am Abhimanyu Chauhan, lawyer of Arushi Mittal." She stiffened for a moment. Her hands fidgeted with the papers on her desk, a flicker of nervousness crossing her face. Her eyes darted to the door, as if considering escape.
"What was your relationship with Rahul beyond the professional one?" I asked, my voice calm yet firm. "And don't lie-I already have proof."
I slid a photograph across the table, a grainy image captured from CCTV footage. Vihaan had sent it to me last night. In the picture, she was with Rahul-close, too close for a simple work relationship.
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. "Anything we had was casual-nothing serious. And I didn't kill him. Believe me." Her voice quivered. She wasn't my suspect. I was here for something else.
"Do you know if he had similar... casual relationships with anyone else?" I pressed.
"Sir, I... I don't know," she hesitated, her gaze flickering toward the window.
I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice. "Don't waste my time. Just tell me what you saw the night before his death."
She paled, gripping the edge of her desk. "Sir, I-I didn't even know he had a girlfriend until that night. The next day, I went to confront him, but when I reached his cabin..." She shuddered. "He was misbehaving with Ms. Gupta."
"Ms. Gupta?" I narrowed my eyes.
"She works in the IT department," she whispered. "First floor."
That was enough for now. I made my way downstairs and found Ms. Gupta typing furiously at her desk. Without preamble, I asked, "Do you know how to delete CCTV footage from an apartment or manipulate it?"
She stiffened, her fingers freezing over the keyboard. "Excuse me? Who are you?"
Tired of introductions, I simply handed her my business card. Her eyes widened slightly as she read it, and then they filled with unshed tears. Before I could say anything, she broke down, her shoulders trembling.
I let her cry. I wasn't good at comforting people, and I had no intention of starting now. Maybe I never was, or maybe this profession had shaped me this way.
After a few minutes, she wiped her eyes and spoke in a barely audible voice. "Sir, he was a sadist. He tried to molest me in his cabin. I resisted, but he didn't stop. I had to push him away and run. I couldn't face him, so I took a half-day leave and left the office."
"And you took leave for the next two days?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yes," she confirmed, nodding weakly.
I exhaled sharply. "That's all for now."
Leaving the office, I dialed Vihaan. "Get every piece of information on Ms. Gupta and Ms. Sinha, Send our men to inspect their houses-quietly. They shouldn't know they're being investigated."
I ended the call and drove to my office. Being Asia's top criminal lawyer wasn't easy. I had my own people-trusted men who uncovered what couldn't be found in daylight.
By the time I was wrapping up, it was evening. My phone rang. Dadu.
"Abhi, reach the venue on time," his voice left no room for excuses.
I groaned internally. A business party was the last thing I wanted to attend, but dodging Dadu was impossible. I needed to work overtime to compensate for this lost time. "Like this is new to you," my subconscious mind sneered.
✨
I freshened up and dressed in a tailored black three-piece suit before heading to the venue.
By 8 PM, I was there, exchanging pleasantries with my family. Business discussions weren't my thing, so I made my way to the bar.
As I was about to take a sip of my drink, I heard a soft voice. "Bhaiya, is this alcohol?"
A girl stood at the counter, her back facing me. She held a glass in her hand, hesitating.
"Yes, ma'am, it is," the bartender replied. "You can take juice from that counter."
Something about her voice held my attention longer than I expected. But before I could dwell on it, Dadu called me over.
"Abhi, meet Mr. and Mrs. Mehta-the hosts of the party."
I greeted them out of courtesy, barely paying attention. My chachu asked, "Where are your kids?"
Mr. Mehta spoke again, his voice filled with pride. "My son is a hardworking, kind, and determined young man. I admire his resilience, integrity, and the respect he shows others. Right now, he's taking care of the arrangements, and my daughter is over there." He gestured across the hall.
My gaze followed his direction-and froze.
For a moment, the noise of the party faded into the background. She stood there, draped in a delicate pink gown, the soft fabric hugging her curves just right. Her long hair cascaded over her shoulder, catching the warm glow of the chandeliers.
I had no idea who she was, but I couldn't look away.
For the first time in a long time, something-or rather, someone-had managed to distract me.
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