The anger wasn’t just for him, though. It was for the man lying in the hospital bed in front of me. Chauhan's health had been failing for weeks, a slow decline he refused to acknowledge until his body forced the issue. Last night, the world had tilted; he had collapsed. I had rushed him to the emergency room, the adrenaline masking my terror until the doctors finally stabilized him.
Now, eight hours later, I was still sitting by his side, the sterile scent of antiseptic clinging to my skin.
“I told you, Kavya, I’m feeling perfectly fine,” he rasped, his voice thin but stubborn.
I didn't answer with words. Instead, I leveled him with my coldest glare, the one that usually made his junior associates tremble.
“How many times did I tell you to take your medicines on time?” I scolded, my voice softening as I reached out to squeezehis hand. His skin felt like parchment. “But no, you’re far too stubborn to listen to a ‘young girl’ like me, aren't you?”
He managed a weary, warm smile. “I am perfectly well, child. There is no need for this vigil. Didn’t you hear the doctor? It was just a fluctuation in blood pressure. In a couple of days, I’ll be as good as new.”
“I was worried sick,” I mumbled, the weight of the night finally pressing down on my shoulders.
“It isn’t the first time my heart has stuttered, Kavya. It happens all the time,” Mr. Chauhan sighed, looking up at the bland hospital ceiling. “But I suppose I should be grateful. This time I had my family by my side, rather than a nagging secretary.” He glanced at the wall clock, his business-mind already whirring. “I have a meeting with the Chaurasiyas this evening. Help me get my…”
“There are no meetings today. Or tomorrow. Or for the rest of the week,” I interrupted firmly. “You are going to rest. I’ve already cleared your schedule, and I will be looking after the firm's operations until you are discharged.”
“But the contracts…”
“I said no work, Dad,” I said, my tone final. He looked at me, seeing the steel in my expression, and finally sighed in defeat.
Working with him for the past six months had transformed me. I had absorbed the nuances of business deals like a sponge, supplementing my practical experience with online marketing courses. While my English was already fluent, the boardroom had given me a different kind of confidence. I had become hissecret weapon, the "alluring personality" that could smooth over a tense negotiation when his bluntness went too far.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand, shattering the quiet moment. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the caller ID.
'Pa.'
Fear, cold and sharp, gripped my chest. He had been hounding me for weeks, ever since he discovered I was drawing a salary from the Chauhan estate. He was demanding five lakh rupees for my stepbrother’s upcoming wedding, a sum I simply didn’t have.
Every spare rupee I earned was funneled into a hospital. My younger sister, Kirti, was fighting her own battle. Her hospital bed alone cost 2,000 rupees a day that was 60,000 a month before even considering the mountain of bills for medicines and specialized care. The doctor had been blunt: Kirti needed heart surgery to live a normal life. The cost was staggering 20 to 25 lakh rupees.
That was the only reason I had taken on extra work with Abhiraj Sisodiya. Between my primary role with Mr. Chauhan and the part-time work for Abhiraj, I was bringing in 1,20,000 monthly, saving every paisa to buy Kirti a future.
The phone buzzed again. And again. I disconnected the call, trying to refocus on my father-in-law, but the persistence of the man on the other end was relentless.
“I need to take this,” I whispered to Mr. Chauhan as I stepped out into the hallway, the heavy door muffling the hospital noise behind me. Before I could even say hello, the venom spilled through the speaker.
“Don’t be oversmart, Kavya!” my father shouted. “Ignoring me makes you feel powerful, does it? Do I have to remind you how much leverage I still have over you, sweetie?”
“Pa, I told you, I don’t have five lakh,” I hissed, my teeth gritted so hard my jaw ached. “Whatever I had, I already gave you. I have nothing left.”
“Then find it. I need four lakh more immediately. If you don’t arrange it, maybe I’ll take it out of your little sister’s hide. She's quite fragile, isn't she?”
“Pa!” I screamed, the sound echoing off the linoleum walls. I flinched as a nurse and a few passing patients stared at me. “Pa, please...” I lowered my voice to a desperate whisper. “Don’t bring Kirti into this.”
“Listen to me,” he growled. “If that money isn't ready, you’ll hear very bad news by tomorrow morning.”
The line went dead. I gripped the phone so hard I thought the glass would shatter. At that moment, I understood the dark corners of the human soul. I wouldn't feel a shred of regret if I could rid the world of my father. He was a monster, a shadow that would chase me as long as he drew breath.
I struggled to hold back a sob, leaning my head against the cool wall. I was so lost in my despair that I didn't notice the tall figure approaching until he was standing right in front of me.
It was Abhiraj Sisodiya. He had been talking to a doctor further down the hall, but now his dark eyes were fixed on me. I tried to turn away, to hide my tear-streaked face, but his voice stopped me.
“Are you okay?”
A flash of irritation sparked in my chest. Why did he always appear when I was at my weakest? I heard his footsteps close the distance between us.
“Is Mr. Chauhan okay?” he asked, his tone surprisingly gentle.