Café Anaya – Sunday, Early Evening, City D
The café is warm and inviting, with the aroma of coffee, pastries, and jasmine. The warm lighting illuminates the wooden tables and vibrant artwork.
Kavya enters, dressed in her workday kurta, sling bag, and carrying a folder. She orders black coffee, no sugar or cream.
After getting her coffee, she looks for a seat in the bustling café filled with students, professionals, and friends. Only one table has a free seat.
Aakash sits at a table, his laptop open, fingers typing quickly. A half-finished iced Americano sits beside his laptop, condensation forming droplets on the glass.
Neatly stacked papers rest beside his drink. He seems absorbed in his task, his brow slightly furrowed.
Kavya hesitates, considering her options. The other tables are full, and she wants to sit. She decides to approach Aakash's table.
Kavya: "Do you mind if I sit? It's a full house."
Aakash: "Of course. Go ahead." He gestures toward the empty chair, smiling politely.
Kavya sits, placing her coffee and work folder on the table. For a moment, a comfortable silence settles between them.
The sounds of Aakash's keyboard, rustling papers, ambient music, and low conversations create a soothing backdrop.
Kavya: "Still working?"
Aakash: "Yeah. End-of-week reports. Trying to wrap up before I lose track of what day it is."
Kavya (smiles faintly, understanding the pressure): "That bad?"
Aakash: "Not necessarily bad. Just...constant. You know how it is. The demands never seem to cease, the deadlines always looming. It's a constant cycle of reports, analyses, and projections."
Kavya (nodding in agreement): "Unfortunately, yes. I completely understand. We're still reviewing land compliance documents on the eastern wing of the UDC site. One seemingly insignificant clause has resulted in two lengthy meetings and four differing legal opinions. It's incredibly frustrating."
Aakash (chuckling lightly): "Sounds like the Upadhyay legal team I've come to know and, dare I say, respect. Always meticulous, always thorough."
Kavya (tilting her head, a playful glint in her eyes): "That's either a genuine compliment or a subtly disguised jab at our perceived pedantry."
Aakash smiled warmly. "I assure you, it was meant as admiration. You and your team have a reputation for thoroughness. You don't let even the smallest detail slide, which is commendable in this industry."
They shared a quiet laugh, a moment of understanding and camaraderie. The mood remained relaxed and comfortable.
Kavya took a sip of her coffee. "Speaking of things not sliding... Congratulations, by the way. I saw the TK Jewellers' relaunch numbers. They looked incredibly impressive. A real success story."
Aakash nodded modestly. "Yes. Riyansh Sir and the team pulled off something truly remarkable. The turnaround wasn't easy. It required hard work, dedication, and strategic planning."
Kavya: "I heard you were involved in the project?"
Aakash: "I played a small part. Mostly focused on backend analytics during the restructuring phase—predictive risk modeling, stakeholder data analysis, that sort of thing. Quiet, behind-the-scenes work, but essential."
Kavya: "Still, it must feel incredibly rewarding. Seeing a legacy brand like TK Jewellers come back from the brink, revitalized and thriving."
Aakash: "It does. Especially when so many people in the industry had written them off, convinced they were unsalvageable. It's a testament to the power of strategic planning, innovative thinking, and dedicated teamwork."
A small silence falls between them. Kavya stirs her coffee thoughtfully, appearing preoccupied. She looks contemplative, weighing something in her mind.
Kavya: "The UDC project feels like it could go either way. There's so much ambition and potential, but it also feels incredibly fragile. So many players and competing interests are involved. It's a complex undertaking."
Aakash: "That's a valid observation. It's certainly a complex project with numerous challenges. But I believe the foundation is strong. The core principles and vision are sound. People like you, ensuring the legal aspects are meticulously handled and everything is above board, helps more than you realize. It provides a crucial framework for success."
Kavya (with a slight, surprised smile, touched by his words): "Thanks. That's rare to hear from someone on the finance side. We often feel like we're the ones putting the brakes on progress—the naysayers, the sticklers for the rules."
Aakash (closing his laptop softly, signaling the end of his work session): "Perhaps that's a common perception. But it's a crucial role. Ensuring legal compliance isn't about hindering progress; it's about building a sustainable foundation for long-term success."
Another pause. The atmosphere between them is comfortable and easy.
Kavya: "I should probably get going. Thanks for the table. I appreciate it."
Aakash: "Anytime. It was a pleasure sharing the table with you. Coffee's on me next time, if that infamous clause finally gets sorted out."
Kavya (grinning as she stands, gathering her belongings): "Be careful what you offer. That clause might take weeks, even months, to resolve. You could be buying me coffee for the rest of the year."
Aakash (smiling, a playful glint in his eyes): "Then I better start saving. It sounds like it will be a worthwhile investment."
They exchange a nod, a silent acknowledgement of a pleasant encounter.
As Kavya left, the bell above the door chimed softly. Aakash watched her go, thoughtful, then turned back to his closed laptop, a faint smile lingering.
Two Days Earlier , Bansal House, Garden of Shadows
Location: Private back garden, Bansal Manson, City D, Time: Midnight
Moonlight spilled across the dew-soaked hedges of the sprawling Bansal estate, casting long shadows over the marble path that wound through manicured lawns and antique fountains. The garden was silent — too silent — except for the rustling of chiffon.
Wrapped in an embroidered ivory shawl, Mrs. Ravina Chaudhary Bansal—stood alone by the rose bushes. Her perfectly coiffed hair glistened silver under the moon. But the stillness in her frame was deceptive.
A rustle behind her.
"She is coming to Country I," whispered a voice.
A maid emerged from behind a tree—elderly, worn, but sharp-eyed. This was Rekha, her personal confidante and the woman who knew every buried secret in this house.
Mrs. Bansal turned slightly, her face stony. "You only have that much news? That she's 'coming'? You should've killed her years ago when you had the chance."
Rekha swallowed. "I tried. I thought they all killed in that fire... it was supposed to happen. But she and her brother..."
"Survived," Anjana snapped, her voice ice. "Because you failed. And now she returns. As who? A celebrated designer? An heiress? No. She returns as the threat we always feared."
A long pause. Mrs. Bansal walked over to the wrought-iron bench and sat, her hand still gripping the shawl.
"Do you understand, Rekha? If Ira is allowed to live... we will all die. And not just socially or politically. Literally. Every secret... every crime... every forged will, every cover-up—she will bring it out."
Rekha leaned closer. "Should I activate the lawyer? The one we bribed for the estate redirection?"
"No," Mrs. Bansal whispered, eyes glowing with menace. "She's not coming for the will. Not directly".
Rekha frowned. "The girl doesn't even know the truth—"
Mrs. Bansal cut her off. "And she must never know. She stood abruptly.
"Kill her. I don't care how. Discredit her. Poison. Frame her for a murder. Make it look like a suicide. Anything. But do it fast and do it clean. Because once Ira steps foot in City D, she will not stop."
A moment of dread silence passed between them.