"So you're selling," Harshit concluded.
"Trying to." Abhinav ran a hand through his hair. "There's a complication."
"The estate manager," Raghav said, not quite managing to hide his amusement.
"The bane of my existence." Abhinav's tone turned bitter. "My great-great-grandfather hired her family to manage the property. Four generations of Chauhans running the place like they own it."
"They don't own it?" Divya asked.
"They manage it. There's a difference." He turned to her. "Or there should be. The current manager seems to have forgotten that distinction."
"What's his name?" Ishani asked.
"Meera Chauhan. Apparently convinced that she has more right to the estate than I do."
"How is she blocking the sale?" Vikram's business instincts engaged.
"Refused to provide complete documentation. Delayed every meeting with potential buyers. Made access to the property nearly impossible." Abhinav's frustration was palpable. "I've been trying to handle it from Dubai, but she's ignored every email, dodged every call, and generally made herself as difficult as possible."
"Hence the move to India," Raghav said.
"For three months. Long enough to deal with her, sell the property, and get back to my actual life." Abhinav's expression hardened with determination. "I'm not letting some estate manager with delusions of ownership stand between me and moving forward."
"Have you met her?" Kavita asked gently. "This Meera?"
"Not in person. Dad handled everything related to the estate." Abhinav's voice softened slightly at the mention of his father. "All I know is what the lawyers have told me, she's rigid, traditional, and completely opposed to any change."
"Maybe she has reasons," Divya ventured.
"Maybe she does." Abhinav's tone suggested he didn't much care. "But reasons don't change facts. I inherited the estate. I have every legal right to sell it. Her job is to manage it until I do."
"Estate managers who've been there for generations usually have strong attachments," Vikram observed. "Might be worth understanding her perspective before going in with all guns blazing."
Abhinav's jaw tightened. "I'm not interested in her perspective. I'm interested in her cooperation."
"That approach always works well," Raghav said dryly.
"It's worked fine in business."
"This isn't business," Kavita said gently. "This is someone's home. Her family has likely served yours for generations."
"Which is exactly why she should respect the family's decisions." Abhinav's frustration was evident. "I'm not trying to be harsh, but I can't let sentiment interfere with practicality."
"When do you leave?" Harshit asked, clearly sensing the need to move on.
"Two weeks. I've arranged short-term housing in Jaipur, close enough to the estate to handle things in person." Abhinav's smile turned rueful. "Though I suspect I'm in for a fight. The woman sounds absolutely immovable."
The conversation shifted to lighter topics like Dubai's oppressive heat, the challenges of filming in the desert, Pista's latest misadventure involving a hotel peacock and a very angry groundskeeper.
That Evening
Divya stood on the hotel balcony, watching the Dubai skyline light up as the sun set. Behind her, she heard the door open and close, then familiar footsteps approaching.
Vikram's arms wrapped around her from behind, pulling her back against his chest.
"Tired?" he murmured against her hair.
"A little." She leaned into him. "It's been a long day."