Shubhra's confusion deepened as she processed Jarek's words. "So, what they want is to meet me?" she asked, her brow furrowed.

Jarek nodded. "Yes! The new owner of the ports wants to meet only you, and he said he would discuss whatever he wants with only you."

Shubhra's puzzlement turned to incredulity. "But why me? I'm not even a part of York Corporation anymore," she said, her voice laced with confusion.

Jarek threw up his hands in frustration. "I don't know! All he says is that he'll only allow the cargo to unload when you meet him. I've tried everything - money, threats - he isn't ready to hear anything other than meeting you."

Shubhra's eyes narrowed as she swiveled her office chair. "Well, who is this new owner, anyway?" she questions.

Jarek slumped further into his chair, his expression defeated. "He isn't even ready to meet me, and gathering information about him feels almost impossible."

Shubhra let out a determined sigh. "Let's do it then! Arrange a meeting with him. Let's see who he is and why he's so excited to meet me, and what he actually wants."

Jarek responded with a simple "Okh!" and picked up the intercom to instruct his secretary to fix the meeting.

As they waited for the arrangements to be made, Jarek's curiosity got the better of him. "What happened in India, btw? I heard some interesting news," he asked, resting his chin in his palms.

Shubhra's expression turned wry. "Oh, yeah!" She launched into the whole story about Riva's family drama, filling Jarek in on all the details.

"And as we were talking, Aniket informed me about this problem," she emphasized, gesturing to the meeting they were about to arrange. "So I had to come all the way here!"
"I don't know what happened in these last 25 hours there!" Jarek's eyes widened as he listened to the story.

Jarek chuckled, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Tch! I'm sure you're missing that drama."

Shubhra plumped down in the chair, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "I am! Too much! I want to see them tear each other apart."

Jarek shook his head, still chuckling. "You're really an awesome friend."

Shubhra's smirk deepened. "I'm just in the mood to give them a taste of their own medicine. During my whole wedding, Vidharth didn't let my brain rest for even a moment. Now it's my turn. Simple."

Just as they were about to continue their banter, the intercom on Jarek's desk rang again, shrill and insistent. Jarek's demeanor shifted instantly, his expression turning serious as he picked up the call.

After a brief conversation, he hung up and turned to Shubhra. "What is it?" she inquired, noticing the sudden change in his tone.

Jarek's expression remained serious. "The time of the meeting is set for this evening, at AGD restaurant."

Shubhra's eyes narrowed as she processed the information. "He chose a public place? Interesting. Let's see where it's going to lead."

Jarek added more details, his voice measured. "The specific location is at the private floor of the restaurant. Even though it's a well-known place, that floor is usually empty."

Shubhra's gaze turned thoughtful. "I see... And any more specific demands?" she probed, her tone inquiring.

Jarek shook his head in denial. "No, nothing else. Just that you meet him at the private floor of AGD restaurant this evening."

─┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

As they walked towards the private floor, Shubhra gazed around the elegant décor, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "This place is quite good! We should come here someday for a casual lunch!"

Matteo, who was walking alongside her, raised an eyebrow, his expression tinged with amusement. "You've definitely changed!" he exclaimed, his voice low and smooth.

Shubhra's fingers danced across the elevator buttons, pressing the one for the private floor. "Oh, really? How much?" she asked, her tone playful.

Matteo's smile deepened. "You always used to be serious during these kinds of meetings, always walking on eggshells. And look at you now – it seems like you're here on a date."

Shubhra's laughter echoed through the elevator, her eyes shining with a newfound confidence. "Well, I'm kinda free now to express myself. More importantly, I'm still the same – it's just that I realized I don't have to prove myself anymore to anyone."

Matteo nodded thoughtfully, his eyes clouding over with memories. "Hmm, that sounds true."

Shubhra's gaze drifted off, her voice taking on a reflective tone. "Did you remember when we first met? Your, Aniket's, and others' eyes were a mocking reminder for me that I don't belong here, and I'm always a burden upon your shoulders."

Matteo nodded quietly, his expression somber, as he recalled the old times.

Shubhra's words spilled out, a mixture of vulnerability and determination. "So, at that time, if I would have committed even a single mistake, I would have ended up becoming one. It's not like I was the perfect one – no one is perfect – but the thing that kept me going was my passion for survival. To create a place for myself in this vast world, to create an identity that I had lost somewhere."

Matteo's eyes locked onto hers, his voice gentle as he asked the obvious question. "Now you have achieved them? And you are satisfied now?"

Shubhra's gaze fixed on the translucent sheet of the metal elevator door, her reflection staring back at her. Her voice took on a philosophical tone. "Human heart can never be satisfied. If you achieve one thing, it will crave another. Once you taste the blood of victory, you'll want to taste it again, and so the quest goes."

"So,you are never gonna satisfy?"
Matteo's question hung in the air, awaiting a response, but before Shubhra could answer, the elevator doors slid open, and they stepped out into the private room.

The giant glass doors swung open, revealing a space that exuded luxury and sophistication. Sparks of golden colors danced across the walls under the dim white light reflecting from the ceiling. A majestic chandelier, suspended from the center of the ceiling, shone brightest of all, casting a warm, inviting glow.

Tall, elegant potted plants stood sentinel in front of the floor-to-ceiling glass window, framing the breathtaking view of the city. Vibrant lights twinkled and pulsed across the towering skyscrapers, creating a dazzling display of color and energy. The rare spectacle of both the sun and moon being present in the sky added to the room's enchantment, casting a magical spell over the space.

There was a set of plush sofas and cushion-loaded chairs near the window, and a long, round table in the middle of the room. A man was sitting in one of the chairs near the window.

"Welcome, kid!" The man exclaimed in his deep voice. Shubhra felt the voice was quite familiar, but she couldn't pinpoint exactly why, or if her impression was correct.

(My author soul wants to leave this chapter on this cliffhanger. 🥲🥲)

"Mr. Bansal?" Shubhra questioned, her voice laced with uncertainty, as she wondered if she had correctly identified the man.

The man stood up, his movements fluid, and turned to face her. A warm smile spread across his face, but it only served to unsettle Shubhra further.

"You're the new owner of the port?" she inquired, her tone tinged with surprise, though she tried to sound nonchalant.

He nodded, his smile never wavering. "Yes, I am the one."

He gestured to the chair opposite him, offering her a seat. Shubhra took the seat, and he sat down across from her on the sofa, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled.

"Why do you want to meet me here?" Shubhra asked, raising an eyebrow.

He chuckled, his deep voice rumbling. "You're quite a person who doesn't beat around the bush."

Shubhra's gaze remained steady, her eyes locked on him. "Hmm! You want to meet me as a representative of York's, so I'm just doing my work. If you would have wanted to meet me as family, I don't think we would be sitting here."

His smile was gentle, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Indeed! You are a sharp one."

Shubhra's expression remained neutral, her voice firm. "So, what's this about?" she inquired again.

His tone turned serious, his eyes narrowing. "Why are you searching for Girish Basu?"

Shubhra's response was immediate, her posture unwavering. "Because I want to!"

His voice grew stern, his gaze intense. "That's not the answer to my question, kid!"

Shubhra's eyes flashed, her voice taking on a hint of defiance. "Because your questions don't fit any parameter of being sane. A daughter wants to know about her father – what's wrong in it?" She stared at him, her expression unyielding.

"Because you can't be his daughter!"
His declaration hung in the air like a challenge, his eyes boring into Shubhra's.

Shubhra's eyes blazed with anger, her jaw clenched as she asked, "Why?"

His expression remained unyielding, his lips compressed into a thin line. "Because his daughter died years ago in the fire in their house."

Shubhra's eyes widened, her face pale as she paused, lost in thought. The room seemed to hold its breath as she struggled to process the revelation. "If you think I'm not his daughter, then why did you and your wife pretend that I am his daughter during the wedding?"

He paused, his smirk deepening. "Jeremy indeed chose a child for his benefit. Not only do you look similar to Serenity, but you're smart too."

Shubhra's brows shot up, her voice laced with incredulity. "What do you mean by 'he chose me'?"

He steepled his fingers together, his eyes glinting with calculation. "What I mean is, Jeremy picked a random person to play the role of his niece to get his hands on his sister's property."

Shubhra's eyes narrowed slightly, her voice probing as she asked, "And why are you so sure I'm not Girish Basu's real daughter? And she died? She could have been saved that day too, right?"

His expression turned somber, his voice firm. "It can't be possible. We had seen her body."

Shubhra's eyes widened, her body flinching at the revelation. "What?" she exclaimed, her gaze striking his.

He leaned back into the sofa chair, his body relaxing into the plush cushions. "Indeed! And your so-called uncle, Jeremy, also said that Shubhra is dead, but six years later, he came with a child, calling her his sister's."

Shubhra's eyes darted to the small pot of black dahlia's on the nearby table, and her brain began to make connections, joining the dots between the fragments of information.

Shubhra's tone was icy and flat, her voice devoid of emotion. "But if he never wanted to introduce me, then why did he take me in at the age of 14? Even if I am not his sister's daughter, then why would he take in a stranger who can't benefit him in any way? Why?"

Suhas Bansal was taken aback by her words, his silence eerie. Something began to click into place in his mind, and he leaned forward, his eyes narrowing.

"So, are you saying that you've been with him since you were 14?" he probed, his chin resting on the interlace of his hands.

Shubhra nodded, her expression unwavering. "Yes."

Suhas Bansal's eyes seemed to bore into her soul, his gaze penetrating. "But I still saw the corpse of that child," he pressed on, his voice firm. "How can you explain that?"

Shubhra shook her head in denial. "I don't know anything about that. In fact, I don't remember anything about my childhood before I came to Italy. I just remember waking up in a hospital bed and getting informed about the death of my father and brother, and then I came here to Italy."

Suhas Bansal's eyes narrowed, his voice skeptical. "How can I believe that whatever you're saying is true?"

Shubhra's response was detached, her tone cold. "A DNA test is a way that can prove it."

He immediately denied it, his voice firm. "No, it can't."

Shubhra's eyes locked onto his, her hands placed on the armrest of the chair. "Why? It's the best option."

Suhas Bansal's smirk returned, his voice low and mocking. "With whom should I examine your DNA?"

Shubhra's voice was firm, her words cut off mid-sentence by Suhas Bansal's revelation. "Anyone, Nonna or Jarek or—"

"Stop, my child," Suhas Bansal interrupted, his voice low and sharp. "It's not possible because Serenity wasn't Melanie's biological daughter. She was her stepdaughter."

Shubhra's eyes widened in shock, her voice trembling with incredulity. "What? What the hell do you mean?"

Suhas Bansal's expression turned dismissive, his tone firm. "Forget I said anything like that. If you are the real daughter, you would have known, and if you really lost your memory, I feel bad, but I can't help you anymore. So, don't try to probe further into that matter."

Shubhra's face darkened, her voice growing louder, her jaw clenched tighter. "What do you mean by that? I am trying to know about my family for so long, and now you are telling me to just forget it? Why should I?"

Suhas Bansal shook his head, a sigh escaping his lips. "You are too young, kid. So, appreciate your life that you have been bestowed upon. Don't try to open the coffins that are sealed, because all you will get is ashes of the past that will ashen your face black."

He paused, his expression somber, before changing the subject. "Anyway, the main point I called you here was about something else."

Shubhra's voice was flat, her jaw clenched tight. "What else do you want to say?"

Suhas Bansal handed her an envelope containing photos. "Here, check this out."

Shubhra's eyes scrunched as she opened the seal and examined the photos inside. Her expression turned puzzled, her voice laced with confusion. "What's the meaning of all this?"

The photos slipped from her hands, scattering across the table. Suhas Bansal's lips curled upward, his voice low and mysterious. "Just the truth. These photos are proof of something you wouldn't have known earlier."

Shubhra's eyes narrowed, her gaze scanning Suhas Bansal's face before shifting to the scattered photos. She clenched her fists, her voice firm. "So, you called me here to hand these over to me? Why? What do you want from me?"

She gathered the photos again, her grip on them tightening as she awaited Suhas Bansal's response, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and curiosity.

Suhas Bansal's eyes sparkled with excitement as he lifted his chin to study Shubhra's expressions. "I didn't think I would be getting a reaction like this! But now I am excited – what are you gonna do?"

Shubhra's brow furrowed, a line of confusion etched on her forehead. "I can't understand one thing – you could have done all these things back in India too. So, why did you go to such great lengths to call me here and then do all this?"

Suhas Bansal's posture straightened, his voice taking on a serious tone. "So, you didn't realize? There are so many eyes hawking at you, watching your every action? This world is filled with filth, and a small flower like you wants to rule it?"

He paused, his gaze piercing as he drove home his point. "Every person thinks themselves a master, but only those who understand their position survive."

Shubhra leaned back into her chair, her eyes never leaving Suhas Bansal's face. "Not every flower can be touched; some bear thorns too, and if you try to touch them, it will scrape you."

She understood the direction of the conversation, and the air was thick with tension. Suhas Bansal exuded power and confidence, unafraid to wield his influence.

His response was laced with cruelty and mockery. "A few small scrapes wouldn't harm people like them, and if you keep going like this, it will just hurt you more."

Shubhra's expression remained calm, her fingers tapping a gentle rhythm on the armrest of the chair. "Then they can try. I am not someone who would be afraid of these small threats."

Her voice was steady, her eyes flashing with a hint of defiance, as she met Suhas Bansal's gaze, refusing to back down.

A small smirk tugged at Suhas Bansal's lips. "If you're so confident in yourself, then let's see what you can do."

He stood up, his tall frame towering over Shubhra as she rose from her seat. Despite his age, he exuded a sense of fitness and refinement, his tailored suit adding to his aura of superiority.

Suhas Bansal's hands remained casually tucked into his pockets as he asked, "What are you going to do about these pictures?"

Shubhra's response was enunciated clearly, her eyes locked on his. "Maybe the same thing you're expecting."

A small smile played on Suhas Bansal's lips as he nodded. "Good! It would be great to have a person opposing me who has some morals in them."

He handed her another envelope, his eyes glinting with a hint of challenge.

Suhas Bansal offered Shubhra his hand, and she accepted, their handshake firm. He escorted her to the elevator, and as the doors slid open, Matteo followed closely behind her.

"Matteo, take me straight to the jet. I need to leave for India," Shubhra commanded, her gaze fixed on the reflection of her's as the elevator descended.

Matteo began to protest, "But—"

She snapped, her voice firm and authoritative. "No buts. I'm not in the mood. Just drop me off and inform Jarek that things have been settled."

With that, she closed her eyes, her expression a mask of determination, as the elevator doors opened, and they stepped out into the lobby.

─┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

Adwait's eyes widened in surprise as he looked up from his laptop, taking in Shubhra's sudden arrival. "You're back?" he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

Shubhra stood firmly in place, her expression serious. "Yes, I am."

Adwait's eyebrows rose as he set aside his laptop and approached her. "You came straight here?" he probed, a hint of surprise in his tone.

Shubhra let out a weary sigh. "Yes, I have something urgent to talk to you about."

Adwait's concern deepened as he reached out to place a hand on her forehead, checking for a fever. However, Shubhra instinctively took a step back, avoiding his touch. Adwait's frown reflected his confusion.

"I'm okay," Shubhra reassured him, her voice firm. "I just need to ask you something."

Adwait crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What is it?" he inquired, his tone cautious.

Shubhra's gaze locked onto his, her eyes searching for answers. "How do you know Atulya?" she questions, her voice low and deliberate.

He blinked, caught off guard by her sudden question. His lips parted, then pressed together as he tried to gather his thoughts. "Why the sudden question?" he asked, his voice uneven but calm.

"Tell me, Adwait. How do you know her?" she quired again, softer this time, though her eyes searched his face intently.

He hesitated. "Well... it’s—"

"Where were you two days ago?" she cut him off, her voice steadier now. His expression faltered, confusion mixing with concern. His lips drew into a thin line, and his stomach tightened.

"Let’s go back home, okay? Let’s talk there," he asserted, his voice gentler than before. He reached for her hand, hoping to ease whatever was troubling her.

"No."

She stepped back, her hand slipping from his. An envelope appeared from her purse, and she tossed it toward him. It hit his chest and fluttered to the ground. He stared at it for a second before bending down to pick it up.

Inside were photos — intimate ones — of him and Atulya. His brows furrowed, shock rippling through him. His mind raced to piece together what this was.

"What…?" His voice barely came out. "This isn’t what it looks like."

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, her voice trembling. "Then tell me what it is, Adwait."

He swallowed hard, his voice steadier now. "I promise… it’s not what you think. I can explain."

The fear in his chest twisted tighter, but hope flickered beneath it. He had to make her understand.

He hurriedly grabbed her hands, but she recoiled from his touch.

"Listen to me! Just this once — believe me. I didn’t do anything. I swear." His voice broke, low and pleading. Desperation tightened his chest, his words tumbling out.

"What else is left to hear after this?" she snapped, her voice trembling. Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away, refusing to let them fall.

"Please... just this once, listen to me!" he groaned, his voice raw. He lunged forward, catching her hands again, holding on even as she tried to pull away. His grip was gentle but desperate — like he was holding onto more than just her hands.

Her breath hitched, her resolve wavering, but the pain in her eyes didn’t fade.

You lied to me too... Just like everyone else. Every single person in my life," she accused, her voice trembling with tears. "You were the only one I trusted, the only one I believed in.
But you shattered that trust... You were my rock, my confidant. But you broke that bond." She pushed him away, her eyes streaming with tears that she holds back. "What's left to say?" A sob escape her lips.

"Ayla, please! Just listen to me once!"He pleaded, desperation in his voice.

"Let’s never meet again, Adwait," she said, her voice cold and final. She turned to leave, but he caught her wrist, his grip trembling.

"Wait, Ayla! Please — at least listen to me once!" His voice shook, barely holding together.

"There’s nothing left to hear, Adwait. I don’t need explanations after seeing all this." Her voice wavered, but her anger held steady as she tried to pull away.

She struggled against his hold, but his grip didn’t loosen. It wasn’t forceful — just desperate. Still, it was enough to hurt.

He didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled her along, leading her out of his cabin.

Her voice dropped to a hiss, sharp and bitter. "Fine. I won’t fight. Just stop dragging me like an animal."

It was only then that Adwait seemed to realize what he was doing. He glanced around, noticing the eyes on them — curious, judgmental, whispering.

His chest tightened. He let go of her wrist abruptly, guilt flashing across his face. But before she could walk away again, he caught her hand — softer this time — and entwined his fingers with hers, tugging gently.

"Please, Ayla," he murmured.

For a moment, she didn’t resist. Her shoulders dropped slightly, and this time, she followed.

The eyes around them slowly turned back to their work, but murmured questions spread like ripples in a still pond.

"Don’t you guys have any work?" Adwait thundered, his voice echoing through the room. His eyes burned with rage, and the murmuring stopped instantly. Heads lowered, and everyone quickly returned to whatever they were pretending to do.

Without a word, he led Ayla outside. They reached his car, and without thinking, she slid into the passenger seat. Adwait sank into the driver’s seat beside her, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"What now?" she asked bitterly, her voice low as she glanced down at her wrist. The spot where he had grabbed her was red and raw. She touched it gingerly, wincing.

His eyes fell to her hands, and guilt twisted inside him like a knife. But the guilt was nothing compared to the agony that had hit him when she said she wanted to leave him. That pain was unbearable.

"I’m sorry, but…" His voice faltered, the words catching in his throat.

"But what, Adwait?" she snapped, her patience worn thin.

He swallowed hard and turned to face her fully. His voice was quieter now, but the hurt was clear. "Do you really not believe me?" His eyes searched hers desperately, locking onto her hazel gaze.

She didn’t look away. "Do I need any more proof?" she shot back, her voice trembling.

His jaw tightened. He leaned closer, his voice low and pained. "So… you saw a bunch of photos and decided to believe them more than you believe me? More than the trust we built all this time?"

"Tell me one thing — what would you have done if you were in my place?" Her voice trembled.

"I would have…" Adwait started, but his voice faltered. His eyes dropped to the road, avoiding hers.

"You would have done the same," she snapped, crossing her arms and huffing.

"I wouldn’t!" he shouted back, his voice rough with emotion. His grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles went white. "I would have asked you first!"

"I did ask! And your hesitation told me everything I needed to know," she fired back, her voice sharp — but her eyes flicked away, scanning the car’s interior.

Adwait’s voice softened, his anger giving way to desperation. "Please, Ayla. Just listen to me. It’s a misunderstanding. I swear — I don’t have any relationship with Atulya. Yes, I know her. I’ve known her for a long time, but the truth is—"

"I know…" she cut him off, Her hand slipped under the seat — and her fingertips brushed something small, cold, and unfamiliar.

"Adwait…" her voice faltered for real this time, panic bleeding into her tone.

Before she could say more, her eyes lifted — and locked on the blinding glare of headlights hurtling toward them.

"Adwait — a truck!" she screamed.

His head snapped up. He barely had time to react. He yanked the wheel hard. The car swerved violently. Tires screeched, metal crunched, and the world spiraled into chaos.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

And With This The Season End's!!

Author's Scribbling Point

Any questions for the author??