The polished marble gleamed under the bright white lights, their glow reflecting across the room. Adwait was slouched in his chair, one hand covering his eyes while the other clutched a paperweight with such force that it seemed as if, should his grip loosen even slightly, it would shatter on the floor.

The telecom placed in front of him buzzed, its sound echoing through the room that was otherwise drowned in a heavy, uncertain silence.

Adwait sighed and lifted the receiver.

"Sir, Miss Riva is here and would like to meet you," his secretary's voice filtered through the line.

"Let her in," he instructed, ending the call with a click.

He straightened his posture and glanced at the file open in front of him.

A moment later, Sameer opened the door, allowing Riva to step inside.

"Hello. How are you feeling now?" she inquired with a soft smile.

Adwait looked up and met her eyes. "Better, now that I'm awake," he responded.

"Well, that's a great start," she acknowledged, nodding before dropping into the chair across from him.

"Sameer, bring us two coffees," Adwait directed, and Sameer exited the room without a word.

"So," he added with a teasing smile, "I'm guessing you're not here to discuss your wedding. What brings you here, then?"

"Huff! You should blame that treacherous friend of yours," she groaned, burying her face in her hands. "He's so adamant about marrying me. Ugh!"

"Really?" Adwait chuckled. "But I'm honestly curious-what exactly happened between you two that day? It looked like you were ready to kill each other in the office."

He lazily tapped his fingers on the table, tilting his head as he awaited her response.

"Well... it's a long story," she admitted, offering him a sheepish smile.

"I'm all ears. He never mentions it, so I just want to know. I won't tell a soul," Adwait declared, pinching the skin over his neck as in swearing.

"Well... it's not exactly a great story to begin with," she murmured, her voice trailing off.

"I'm listening," he insisted with a grin.

"Hah! Fine!" she mumbled with a sigh.

"Well, before we met in the office, I'd seen him a few times-the first time was back in college, in Germany," she began.

"Wait-you've known him that long?" Adwait exclaimed, his brows rising in surprise.

"Yep. He was there on some student exchange program," she clarified. "Can you imagine being stuck with him for an entire year?" She shook her head with mock horror.

"Huh! That was around the same time I met Shubhra," he recalled, nodding slightly.

"Wait, really?" Her eyes widened. "But I thought you guys met at your wedding!" she questioned, clearly puzzled.

"Well, only Vidharth, Shubhra, and I know that we met before that," he chuckled.

"Wait-what?! Vidharth knows too? Why does he get to know everything and not me?" she huffed, pouting.

"He was helping me track her down, that's why," Adwait explained with a shake of his head.

"Ugh! He's so slow with this kind of stuff. How does he even manage his company?" she groaned, leaning back in the chair.

"Oh, believe me-I manage it just fine," a voice scoffed from behind.

Riva froze. That voice sent a chill down her spine.

Adwait lifted his eyes to meet the uninvited guest.

Vidharth stood in the doorway, hands stuffed in his pockets, his gaze sharp enough to cut through steel-aimed squarely at Riva's back.

Riva could feel it-the heat of his glare crawling up her spine, prickling her skin.

Suddenly, she scoffed. "Really? I don't think so. Your performance says the complete opposite of your words," she retorted, spinning around to face him with a smirk, mischief dancing in her eyes.

His stare darkened, but he said nothing. Instead, he slumped into the chair beside hers.

"Well! Should I call an ambulance or the fire department?" Adwait chuckled, his voice vibrating between amusement and exasperation.

"None!" they both barked in unison.

"Alright, alright! Calm down and tell me what actually happened between you two. I'm dying to know," Adwait said, leaning forward and placing his hands on the glass table.

"Fine. But not a single word out of you," Vidharth warned, pointing a finger at Adwait, who playfully mimed zipping and locking his lips.

"Well, if you remember, I was sent to Germany on a student exchange program," Vidharth began.

"Hm! Still don't get how someone as grumpy as you got picked for international diplomacy," Riva chimed in with a shrug.

Without a word, Vidharth stood up, walked over to the side table, grabbed a roll of tape, tore a piece off-and stuck it directly over Riva's mouth.

"So, where was I?" he continued nonchalantly, as if nothing had happened.

Both Adwait and Riva stared at him, dumbfounded. Riva snapped out of her shock and ripped the tape off her mouth with a wince.

"What the hell, Vidharth?!" she yelled.

Vidharth yanked Riva's chair toward him and quickly slapped another piece of tape over her mouth before she could react. She immediately raised her hands to tear it off, but he caught her wrists midair, taped them together, and gently rested them in his lap.

Adwait stared at the scene in stunned disbelief.

"Now, let me continue-" Vidharth began, only to be cut off sharply.

"Let her go. Now," Adwait commanded, his voice firm and laced with warning.

"No. She'll just interrupt again," Vidharth muttered stubbornly.

"Vidharth," Adwait snapped, eyes narrowing. "This is my place. And you don't get to treat her-or anyone-like that in front of me. Ever."

His voice rang with unflinching authority, his glare cold enough to freeze steel.

Even Vidharth faltered beneath it. He glanced at Riva, who was now glaring at him just as fiercely.

With a resigned sigh, he peeled the tape off her mouth and untied her wrists.

Riva winced as she rubbed her reddened wrists, the skin slightly raw from the adhesive. Vidharth's gaze fell to her hands, and his stomach twisted with guilt.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice softer. "It was just supposed to be a joke."

"There's a difference between a joke and disrespect," Adwait warned, his voice like granite. "Learn to recognize the line-and don't cross it again."

Vidharth lowered his head, chastened.

Riva stood, her voice raw and trembling with suppressed fury. "Jiju, I'm leaving. I'll come back when a certain bug has left your side."

She shot one last searing look at Vidharth before turning and walking out.

A heavy silence settled.

"I didn't mean to hurt her," Vidharth said quietly, his voice threaded with regret.

Adwait shook his head. "I'm not the one you owe an apology to."

"I didn't do it to hurt her-it was just a prank," Vidharth insisted, frustration rising in his tone. "But when she pulls something, it's all fun and games. When I do it, suddenly it's wrong. Just because I'm a man?"

Adwait's eyes locked onto him. "You're not a man-you're a boy if you're whining instead of owning up to what you did."

He pointed a finger at him, voice sharp. "And no-it's not about being a man or a woman. It's about intent and impact. You hurt her. That's never funny. Never acceptable. Doesn't matter who does it."

"But what about her sister and that whole pregnancy fiasco?" Vidharth pointed out.

"Didn't you just say her sister? Then how is it Riva's fault?" Adwait countered. "You can't blame her for something she had no part in."

"Of course I can! Can't you see? She's not someone who's helpless. She's strong and independent. If her cousin needed help, she could've just asked Riva. There was no need for things to go that far."

"And how are you so sure about any of this?" Adwait asked calmly. "You know, Vidharth, what we see isn't always the truth. Sometimes, we need to step outside our own assumptions to truly understand someone else."

He paused before continuing, "You two are about to get married. If the beginning of your relationship is already filled with misunderstandings and accusations-how do you plan to move forward? Do you think marriage is a joke?"

"Fine then, O wise god of understanding and patience," Vidharth snapped sarcastically. "Tell me, what should I do?"

Adwait chuckled softly, easing the tension. "Talk, Vidharth. Just talk. Half the problems between people emerges from silence. And if you ask me, have a proper conversation with her before taking any step forward in your relationship. Marriage is a lifetime commitment-it shouldn't start with a feud or a lie."

Vidharth scoffed, "You're not exactly the best person to be giving relationship advice."

"I know," Adwait admitted with a smirk, "but I've made damn sure not to drag my past into my marriage."

Vidharth let out a long breath. "Alright. I'll do what you suggested."

"Then what are you waiting for? Go!" Adwait urged.

"Now?" Vidharth questions

"Yes, now. Late apologies mean nothing, Vidharth." Adwait scoffed.b

"Fine, fine. Take care, buddy." Vidharth said

"You too." With that, Vidharth turned and left the room.

---

Some time later...

A knock echoed on the door.

"Sir?" Sameer's voice came through.

"Come in," Adwait responded, eyes still fixed on the file in his hands.

Sameer stepped in. "Sir, Dr. Khan is here."

"Alright. Send him in," Adwait instructed without looking up.

Sameer left, and moments later, Dr. Khan entered the room-a middle-aged man with thick, dark brows and a diamond-shaped face. His olive-toned skin was smooth for his age, and though his build wasn't imposing, there was an air of quiet authority about him. Short in stature, he carried himself with calm precision.

"Hello, Mr. Khan," Adwait greeted, extending his hand.

Dr. Khan shook it firmly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Randhawa."

"The pleasure is all mine, Doctor. Please, have a seat," Adwait offered politely.

They both took their seats across from one another in the office.

"How can I assist you, Mr. Randhawa?" Dr. Khan asked, folding his hands in his lap.

"It's nothing urgent. I just wanted some information about one of your former colleagues," Adwait replied, leaning back slightly.

"Which colleague are you referring to?"

"Girish... Girish Basu," Adwait said.

Dr. Khan paused, his expression shifting as he searched his memory. His brows furrowed.

After a long moment, he met Adwait's eyes with a serious look. "Are you referring to the heir of Ratnagiri?"

"Ratnagiri?" Adwait raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Yes, Ratnagiri. It's about 304 kilometers from here," Dr. Khan confirmed.

"I'm not sure about the location, but I do know he married an Italian woman," Adwait added thoughtfully.

"Yes-Serenity," Dr. Khan nodded, recalling the name.

"That's the one," Adwait hummed in agreement.

Dr. Khan tilted his head slightly. "What exactly do you want to know about him, Mr. Randhawa?"

"Everything you know, Doctor," Adwait said plainly.

"Well... it was a long time ago, but I'll try to recall what I can."

"Yes, please."

"But may I ask-why are you looking into him?" Dr. Khan inquired cautiously.

"It's a personal matter, Dr. Khan."

"I see," he responded with a polite nod.

"So, how do you know him?" Adwait asked.

"He was my superior during my early years in the hospital. I was an intern under him," Dr. Khan replied.

"Oh... you mean the current hospital under the Rajvansh group?" Adwait clarified.

"Yes," Dr. Khan confirmed with a quiet nod.

"Was Dr. Girish the previous owner?" Adwait asked, his tone steady but probing.

"You're absolutely right. Dr. Girish Basu was the original owner of the hospital-before it came under the Rajvansh group," Dr. Khan replied, his voice tinged with reminiscence.

Adwait leaned in slightly. "Can you tell me anything about his death?"

Dr. Khan hesitated, the memory surfacing with visible weight. "I can... because I was with him the night it happened. He died in a fire. At his home."

"A fire?" Adwait echoed, brows drawing together. "At his house?"

"Yes. That night still lingers in my mind," Dr. Khan said slowly. "Dr. Basu was supposed to be on duty-he had the night shift. We were walking the hospital corridors together, doing rounds, ensuring everything was running smoothly... when his phone rang."

Adwait listened intently, his expression unreadable.

"He answered the call and turned pale," Dr. Khan continued. "Someone told him there was a fire at his residence. Without wasting a second, he rushed out. That was the last time I saw him alive."

"So... he wasn't even at the house when the fire started?" Adwait clarified, eyes narrowing.

"No. He was with me at the hospital when he got the call. That's why, when I heard the news of his death... I couldn't believe it. Something didn't add up."

Adwait's jaw tensed. "It does sound suspicious."

"Do you know who else was in the house that night?" he asked.

"His biological son... and his adopted daughter," Dr. Khan answered.

Adwait blinked. "Adopted daughter?"

"Yes. Dr. Basu had taken her in several years before the incident."

"What... what was her name?" Adwait asked, a strange tightness in his chest.

Dr. Khan looked up thoughtfully. "Shubhra."

The name hit him like a thunderclap.

Adwait's eyes locked onto Dr. Khan's, his features darkening. He leaned back slightly, absorbing the weight of that single word.

"Shubhra?" he repeated, almost under his breath. "If she was adopted... do you know anything about her biological family?"

Dr. Khan shook his head slowly. "I'm afraid not. All I ever heard was that she had been a close friend of Dr. Basu's daughter. Something tragic happened in her family, and after that, he took her in as his own."

Adwait remained still, his fingers pressed lightly against the glass table. Behind his eyes, thoughts raced-connecting fragments.

"Do you know anything about his wife, Mr. Khan?" Adwait asked.

Dr. Khan nodded slowly. "Serenity's mother and brother never really liked Girish. They did everything they could to pull them apart. Eventually, the pressure got to them, and the two ended up getting divorced. After that, they went their separate ways."

"I see..." Adwait murmured. "Is there anything else you can tell me, Doctor?"

"No, Mr. Randhawa. That's all I know," Dr. Khan replied sincerely.

"Thank you for your time, Dr. Khan."

"It was a pleasure helping you, Mr. Randhawa," he said before leaving the room.

As the door closed behind him, the silence returned.

Adwait sat still, trapped in a tangle of his own thoughts.

Adopted daughter?
Then who were her real parents?
Who was she?

And if she was only an adopted child... then why did Mr. York, of all people, agree to take her under his wing?

The questions felt heavy-each one wrapping tighter around his chest.
His gaze drifted toward the window, but his mind was far from the present.
Something didn't make sense.
Something about Shubhra... just didn't add up.

Author's Scribbling Point

Today's my birthday am I getting wishes??