As the morning sun reached my face, I blinked awake, squinting as the warm light flooded the room. I slowly sat up and rubbed my eyes, feeling the stiffness in my neck from sleeping on the couch. Last night's events resurfaced in my head, particularly when I thought of that man's nasty actions at the mall. A shudder shot down my spine, but I ignored it; he had paid for what he'd done. I didn't want myself to get drained by thoughts of him; I had more important things to do today.

I took a half-day off from work to take Amrit to the hospital. I smiled faintly as I remembered my adorable little brother, who was no longer so small. Since his injury, he had been paralyzed from the waist down, but his spirit remained strong. If only his situation weren't so painful for him, I thought, my heart aching a bit.

"Angad, putt, uth jao hun!" I called gently as I approached his room. He rubbed his eyes and gave me a tired smile.

(Angad dear, wake up now.)

"Cheerful, huh? I will take it as a compliment!" I chuckled as I helped him with his morning schedule.

After a brief breakfast, we made our way to the hospital. Amrit cracked a few jokes along the way, as he always did, to lighten the atmosphere. But my thoughts were racing with concern over his condition. I'd been praying for a miracle, and I couldn't help but feel anxious as we approached the hospital.

Dr. Kabir Shergill, Amrit's doctor, a man in his late twenties, greeted us with a warm smile as he entered the examination room. He'd been our rock for the past few weeks, always honest yet positive about Angad's improvement.

"Good morning, Angad and Avleen. "Let us get you checked out, young man," Dr. Shergill replied gently, bringing his stool closer to Angad's seat.

"Morning, Doctor!" Angad responded, grinning. He appeared relaxed, but I could feel his anxiousness beneath the smile.

I stayed close by as Dr. Shergill examined Angad, going over his normal tests and taking his time to thoroughly inspect everything. After a few minutes, he set down his tools and stared at us, his expression abnormally serious.

"Avleen," he began, turning to face me, "there's something we need to discuss."

I had a sinking sensation in my stomach but nodded, attempting to remain calm. "Of course, Dr. Shergill. What is going on?"

He took a long breath, looked at Angad, and then back at me. "After reviewing his progress and his recent scans, I believe there's a window for treatment-an opportunity to restore mobility to Angad's legs."

Angad and I exchanged surprised looks, with hope in our eyes.

"Really, Doctor?!" Angad's voice was full of joy, but I could also notice his hesitation. He had been let down before.

"Yes, Angad." There is a possibility. But there's a catch," Dr. Shergill explained, his tone becoming more serious. "The treatment should begin soon, preferably within the next week. If we wait too long, the prospects of recovering mobility will be substantially reduced. In six months, the damage could be irreversible."

I felt like the ground was sinking beneath me. Six months? That wasn't long at all. But a week to begin treatment-how were we meant to fund something like that with so little notice?

"I understand," I said, keeping my voice steady. I could feel Angad's gaze probing my face.

"Di...?" He inquired quietly, reaching out and grasping my hand. "Are we going to do it?"

(Sister...)

I squeezed his hand and smiled. "Of course, Angad. We will do everything we can. Okay, don't worry about it."

Dr. Shergill looked at us with compassion in his eyes. "I know this must feel overwhelming, Avleen," he added gently, "but I'll assist in any way I can. I will connect you with financial and charitable resources. This is an invaluable chance for Amrit, and we want to make it as accessible as possible."

"Thank you so much, Dr. Shergill," I replied, my voice barely audible. "We'll find a way to make it work."

Dr. Shergill nodded in understanding. "Please keep me updated. And remember, Avleen, you are not alone in this.

After saying our goodbyes, Amrit and I left the hospital, the reality of what we needed to do settling heavily on my shoulders.

I'd just made Angad comfortable at home after returning from the hospital when the clock on the wall reminded me how late it was. I ran out with my bag, locking the door behind me. The thought of seeing Eshank's glare if I didn't get to the office soon made my heart race even faster.

By the time I arrived at Black Crown Industries, I was practically sprinting down the marble-floored hallways. My eyes darted toward the staircase, but before I could make it, my foot betrayed me, slipping slightly on the polished surface.

"Careful, little one," a firm voice said as a strong hand caught my arm just in time.

I looked up, startled, and saw Advik, Eshank's ever-watchful bodyguard and my self-proclaimed veer ji. His face was stoic as ever, but his eyes held a hint of concern.

"Ji veer ji, main theek hoon," I said quickly, straightening myself.

(Yes brother, I am fine.)

He didn't let go right away, still studying me like I was made of glass. "Why were you running, little one?" he asked in his usual composed tone.

"Veer ji, I took a half-day leave this morning, and now, because of traffic, I'm late. If I don't hurry, my khadus boss will kill me!" I exclaimed, half out of breath.

(Brother, I took a half-day leave this morning, and now, because of traffic, I'm late. If I don't hurry, my grumpy boss will kill me!)

Advik's lips twitched, almost like he was attempting a smile. "It's okay. He won't kill you. Just explain to him why you're late, okay? And stop running. You're going to hurt yourself."

I grinned at his rare attempt at humor and nodded. "Ji veer ji. Thank you."

(Yes Brother)

With that, I hurried toward my cabin, though at a more reasonable pace. I barely had time to catch my breath when the intercom on my desk buzzed. I jumped slightly before picking it up.

This intercom was directly connected to my Khadus boss's cabin. He must be wanting his coffee or maybe going to scold me for being 5 minutes late... Ughhh... This Khadus boss... Isko boss kisne banaya Jab dekho, Sar Prr seengh leke ghumta rehta hai. Like always, I will answer the call, and he won't even let me greet him. He will start giving me orders, and after giving the orders, he will hang up without hearing a single word.

(Who made him boss? He keeps wandering around with horns on his head all the time.)

"Yes, s-?" I managed, trying to keep my tone professional. But as I said, he won't let me say anything.

"Fax the documents on your desk immediately," Eshank's curt voice ordered. There was no greeting, no acknowledgment of my existence beyond what was required. Typical.

"Sir, I-" I started, but the line went dead before I could finish.

I let out a sigh, glancing at the stack of papers he'd mentioned. I picked them up and flipped through them to ensure there were no errors before faxing them. As I read them, something about the wording caught my attention, so I skimmed the pages more carefully. My heart skipped a beat.

I'd seen these exact documents before. My mind raced as I tried to recall where. Then it hit me like a bolt of lightning. I remember clearly. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and started searching the article where I read the same document.

Once I found it. I started matching that document in the article with the documents in my hand. And... OH MY RABB JI... They were the same-exactly the same. The only difference was the company's name and amount. The rest was the same. Each and every line was the same. I need to inform Mr. Rai Singhania. Otherwise, there will be a huge blow to the company.

(OH MY GOD)

I hesitated outside his cabin, clutching the papers tightly in my hands. My heart pounded as I gathered the courage to knock. When I finally did, his curt voice called out, "Come in."

I stepped inside, my palms damp with nerves. Eshank sat at his desk, his sharp gaze immediately locking onto the papers I held. His presence was as intimidating as ever, but I had to do this.

He leaned back slightly in his chair, his expression unreadable. "What are those papers?" he asked, his tone clipped.

"The ones you told me to fax, sir," I replied, my voice steady despite the tension in the air.

The moment the words left my mouth, his jaw tightened. His eyes darkened, and his entire demeanor shifted. "Why haven't you faxed them yet?" he demanded, his voice cold and controlled, though a storm brewed beneath it. "They are important. FAX. THEM. NOW."

His tone made me flinch, but I didn't step back. My instincts screamed at me to obey, to avoid the wrath that was sure to follow, but my conscience wouldn't let me. I couldn't let those papers leave this office.

"Sir," I began, forcing the quiver out of my voice, "please hear me out. It's very, very important."

He narrowed his eyes, his fingers tapping impatiently on the desk. "You must have a good reason for not faxing them by now," he said, his voice like ice. "What could possibly be more important than these documents?"

I took a deep breath, clutching the papers tighter. My gaze met his, and I held my ground. "Sir, these... these documents are fake," I said firmly, my words hanging in the charged silence between us.

I stood up from my chair, frozen in disbelief, her words echoing in my mind. "These documents are fake, sir." My fury surged, my voice dropping dangerously low as I hissed, "What did you just say?"

Avleen's nervous eyes met mine, but she held her ground-a bold move in the face of my anger. She really got some nerves. "These documents are fake, sir," she repeated. "If I had faxed them, the company would have lost millions."

Millions. The word lingered, taunting me. "How can you be so sure?" I demanded. "Do you have any proof to back this absurd claim?" My tone was sharp, meant to frighten her.

Her voice trembled slightly, but she didn't waver. "I do, sir." She handed me her phone and the documents. "I simply thought that I should double-check the documents to make sure there were no mistakes. But while reading them, I realized something felt familiar. I've seen these before in an article about a scam from three years ago. Look at this, sir." She pointed to the screen. "The documents we have and the documents published in the article are identical, except for the company name and amounts."

I snatched the phone, scanning the article. My brows furrowed deeper with every word. "How is this possible?" I muttered to myself. "A scam... That company seemed legitimate."

Avleen hesitated before answering, as if gauging whether I could handle the truth. "It's because, sir, it's a paper company."

My gaze snapped to hers. "A what?"

"A paper company," she explained, her voice steadier now. "They have everything on paper-brochures, shares, a website, even a stellar company rating. But they exist only on paper. No physical building, no real operations."

"Sir, have you ever visited their office?"

Her question hit me like a punch. I thought back to every interaction. "No," I admitted reluctantly. "Meetings were either held here or in high-end hotels. Never in their office."

The realization struck hard, and rage boiled within me. I grabbed the vase on my desk and hurled it across the room, watching it shatter into countless pieces. Avleen gasped, stepping back instinctively. Her wide eyes reminded me that my anger was scaring her, and for a moment, I regretted the outburst.

But the fury remained, now directed inward. "My lawyer," I muttered. "He reviewed these documents. Only then I approved them."

Avleen, still cautious, murmured, "That means he might be part of the play, sir."

I turned to her sharply, her words sinking in. Betrayal layered upon betrayal. My mind raced, connecting dots, recalling every interaction with that lawyer. Was he a plant? Or just incompetent? Either way, it was a failure on my part-a failure that could have cost my company dearly.

But... but... but... He was forgetting that Eshank Rai Singhania never forgives traitors. I'll show him hell-Eshank's hell. He'll beg, cry, and scream, but no one will listen.... His soul will shiver even after he dies, hearing my name...

Amidst the chaos, I found myself marveling at Avleen's presence of mind. She had caught what I, my team, and my supposedly trusted lawyer hadn't. A part of me, buried under layers of pride and hatred, couldn't help but admire her. "You noticed what no one else did," I said, my tone softening now. "How?"

She hesitated, as if unsure whether I was genuinely asking or testing her. "I just thought it was my responsibility to check, sir," she stated simply. "Even if it wasn't my place, I couldn't just ignore it. Furthermore, sir, I have photographic memory. I never forget something I've seen or read once, no matter how much time has passed."

Her humility and determination struck a chord. I nodded curtly, masking the flicker of respect I felt. "You did well," I said, my tone gruff. "But this isn't over. Not by a long shot." A photographic memory... that's incredible...

I sat back in my chair, staring at the shattered vase on the floor. The anger still simmered, but alongside it was a newfound realization: Avleen wasn't just an employee. She was an asset-one I couldn't afford to overlook.

I called her "Miss Avleen," handing her a file. I continued, "Study this file carefully and make the presentation for the next meeting." She nodded.

She was leaving when I noticed Avleen struggling to cross the glass shards from the broken vase earlier. She moved carefully, but as expected, her infamous clumsiness didn't take a day off. Her foot caught in the edge of the mat, and before I could even react, she stumbled, dropping the file I had just handed her.

I sighed. The file slid right into the gap under the cabin door, jamming it in the process. I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Ab kya kiya tumne?" I asked, trying to keep my irritation in check.

(What did you do now?)

She looked up at me from where she was now crouched on the floor, tugging futilely at the file. "M-My foot got stuck, sir, and the file slipped. Now it's stuck under the door."

She made a face, half guilty, half sheepish, and returned to pulling at the file. I stood there, watching her for a moment. "Don't pull it," I said, noticing her fingers slipping dangerously close to the edge of the file. "You'll-"

But it was too late. She let out a small yelp, and I immediately stepped forward. "Kaha tha na? Don't pull it," I said, grabbing her hand to examine it. Sure enough, there was a shallow scratch, a bead of blood already forming. "Pata nahi kyun tumhe khud ko takleef dene ke raaste dhundhne hote hain."

(I don't know why you have to find ways to hurt yourself.)

She flinched slightly, but instead of replying, she averted her eyes. I sighed again, this time softer, and grabbed a tissue from my desk to press against her hand. "Sit," I instructed, guiding her to the couch in the corner of the room. "I will call someone to fix it."

She nodded quietly, clutching the tissue against her hand. But something about her silence felt off. Her gaze was flickering between the jammed door and the cabin walls. She was glancing at them frequently, but she was trying to keep her focus on me. She kept staring at me. I glanced at her briefly as I dialed for maintenance, noticing the faraway look in her eyes.

Once I hung up the phone, I walked back toward my desk, but her eyes were still following me. It was unnerving, the way she seemed to be trying to speak without words. "Kya?" I finally asked, sitting back down and picking up the next stack of papers.

(What)

"Sir," she started hesitantly, "Can I help you?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Tum already ek file ko door se nikalne ki koshish mein apna haath chhil chuki ho, aur ab kaam mein madad karne ki baat kar rahi ho?"

(You have already hurt your hand trying to retrieve the file from the door, and now you are talking about helping with the work?)

She blinked, looking mildly offended. "Sir, main sach mein madad kar sakti hoon," she insisted, almost pouting. Though I don't want to admit it, she looks cute with that adorable pout on her lips. She looks like a small baby....

(Sir, I can really help.)

"Fine," I said with a shrug, handing her a small pile of documents. "Check if there are any errors." It wasn't exactly a pressing task, but I figured it would keep her occupied and distracted.

She busied herself with the papers, her brows furrowed in concentration, and I focused on my own work. Occasionally, she would ask a question or point out a minor mistake, her voice tentative but steady. I would hum in acknowledgment or give a curt reply, though I couldn't help the faint smile tugging at my lips at her determination.

After some time, I felt a gaze on me. When I looked up, I realized Avleen was staring at me, but her expression was distant, as if her mind was somewhere else. I snapped my fingers in front of her face. "Where are you lost?" I asked.

She blinked and shook her head quickly. "K-kuch nahi, sir," she stammered, before looking toward the door. "W-when will the door be fixed?"

(N-Nothing, sir)

"Jab fix ho jayega," I replied dryly, returning to my work. But she didn't stop there. Within minutes, she was bombarding me with random questions. "Sir, aap itne calm kaise rehte ho? Sir, kya aap kabhi clumsy the? Sir, mujhe lagta hai yeh day lucky nahi hai; aapka lucky number kya hai?"

(When it will be fixed)

(Sir, how do you remain so calm? Sir, were you ever clumsy? Sir, I feel this day is not lucky; what is your lucky number?)

Her persistence grated on me, yet I couldn't deny the faint amusement bubbling beneath my annoyance. I glanced at her again. Her voice trembled slightly now, though she tried to hide it. Something was definitely off. She never asked these kinds of questions during work. It wasn't hard to see that she was trying to distract herself, perhaps to stay calm.

Is she hiding something from me? She usually blabbers but never like this... something is definitely off... I need to find out... I need to know what's wrong with her.

Hey lovelies,

As promised, the first update of the double update is here. I am so sorry for keeping you all waiting for the updates, but I was just overwhelmed with my college stuff... But now I am back, so I will give regular updates. So stay tuned to the story. Something interesting is coming up...

Please don't forget to vote and comment because your every vote and comment is too precious for me. Also, you can share your views and suggestions regarding the story or anything you want to know. I would love to talk with you guys. You can DM me on my Instagram handle @writingsbymili, and for spoilers, don't forget to follow it...

Thank you for being patient with your author, and I promise I won't disappoint you. Stay always happy and healthy.

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Have a nice evening!

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