06

--※※--Denials--※※--

Author's POV

The Malhotra estate stood as a testament to Raghav's meticulously curated world. The manicured lawns swept down to the private pool, the architecture screamed old money and unwavering control. Inside, the study, a cavernous room paneled in dark oak and filled with leather-bound books, mirrored the air of controlled power that Raghav cultivated. But beneath that carefully constructed veneer, tension simmered, a cold war fought between brothers that had been raging for years.

Raghav sat ramrod straight behind his imposing desk, his gaze laser-focused on the data scrolling across his laptop. Each line of code, each financial transaction told a story, and right now, the story was unsettling. Across from him, Ishaan, ever the picture of casual disregard, was sprawled in a plush armchair, idly swirling the amber liquid in his whiskey glass, a leather-bound book open in his lap, though Raghav doubted he was absorbing a word.

"You know, Raghav," Ishaan drawled, his voice a silken thread of faux concern, "you really should consider loosening up a bit. All this... intensity... it can't be good for you."

Raghav didn't even bother to look up. "And you should consider taking life seriously for once, Ishaan. The world doesn't revolve around your next party or your latest... conquest."

Ishaan chuckled, a low, throaty sound. "Where's the fun in that, brother? Life's too short to spend it buried in spreadsheets. Speaking of which, how's the audit going?" There was a glint in his eye, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

Raghav suppressed a sigh. He had zero patience for Ishaan's games right now. Malhotra Industries was teetering on the edge thanks to some well-hidden financial inconsistencies, his mother had, with thinly veiled distrust, strong-armed him into accepting an independent audit, and to top it all off, she was the one leading it.

Gauri Deshmukh.

Just the name was enough to prickle his skin, to disrupt the carefully constructed order of his thoughts. He'd known about her appointment, had read her file, but seeing her across the ballroom last night... that had been something else entirely. She wasn't the timid, easily intimidated number-cruncher he'd vaguely expected. Instead, she'd met his gaze head-on, her chin lifted, her eyes gleaming with unwavering confidence. She'd carried herself like she belonged there, like she had every right to scrutinize him, to challenge him.

And that, quite frankly, had been infuriating.

But he wasn't about to let Ishaan's baiting distract him from matters of far greater importance. He needed to regain control, and that started with understanding the depth of the rot within his company.

"I've heard whispers," Raghav said, finally lifting his gaze to meet Ishaan's, his voice low and dangerous, "that you've been poking around in places you shouldn't be. Meddling in things that don't concern you."

Ishaan merely smiled, that lazy, infuriating smirk widening. "I like to stay informed, Raghav. After all, family should look out for each other, shouldn't they?"

"Stay out of my way, Ishaan," Raghav repeated, his jaw tight. "There are forces at play here you don't understand. You'll only get hurt."

"You mean our way, don't you?" Ishaan's smirk broadened into a predatory grin. "Malhotra Industries doesn't belong to just you, Raghav."

Raghav didn't reply, though his grip on the pen in his hand tightened until his knuckles turned white. They both knew the truth, the unspoken agreement that hung heavy in the air. No matter what the legal documents said, the company had always been his responsibility. Ishaan had never been one to commit, to fight for what was theirs.

But something in his younger brother's gaze unsettled him, a cold calculation that he hadn't seen before. This wasn't just idle mischief, it went deeper than that.

Ishaan wasn't just playing games this time. He was playing for keeps.

Gauri's POV

I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose, the familiar gesture a comforting anchor as I stared at the spreadsheet glowing on my laptop screen. Numbers danced before my eyes, transactions blurred, but my mind wasn't on the meticulous work in front of me. It was still replaying the scene from last night, the echo of a voice, the impact of a gaze that had burned right through my carefully constructed defenses.

Raghav Malhotra.

I'd known about him long before I ever set one sensible shoe inside that opulent ballroom. His reputation preceded him like a storm cloud - ruthless in business, dangerously intelligent, utterly unreadable. The kind of man newspapers wrote about, but never quite understood. A man who held the city in the palm of his hand.

And yet, last night had rocked me back on my heels.

I had expected arrogance, the condescending sneer of a man used to getting his way, and I had found it. I had anticipated an air of unquestioned authority, and he had exuded it with every breath.

But the raw intensity of his gaze? The almost palpable challenge that radiated from him, as if daring me to cross a line I hadn't even seen drawn?

That, I hadn't been prepared for. That unnerved me more than I cared to admit.

"Gauri Di?"

I blinked, shaking myself out of the unwelcome reverie as my younger sister, Bhoomi, poked her head into my makeshift home office. The walls were lined with bookshelves, the desk was covered in papers, and the air smelled faintly of coffee and late nights. A far cry from the grandeur of the Salian estate.

"You've been staring at that screen for a good fifteen minutes," Bhoomi said, leaning against the doorframe, her eyes narrowed with playful suspicion. "Thinking about work, or someone at work?"

I rolled my eyes, resisting the urge to toss a pen at her. "It's called doing my job, Bhoomi. You know - the thing that pays for your organic smoothies and your yoga retreats."

Bhoomi ignored the jab, her smirk widening. "Is your job tall, brooding, and unfairly good-looking? Does your job make you question your life choices and wonder if you should have become a glass which he is holding?"

I groaned, burying my face in my hands for a moment. "You saw his picture for, like, two seconds. It was a fleeting glimpse, yet you've already built him up into some kind of mythical figure?"

"And that was more than enough." Bhoomi crossed her arms, her expression suddenly serious. "Seriously, what's your deal with him, Gauri? You've barely mentioned what the job even is, who you're working with, and yet suddenly you're a woman haunted."

I hesitated. How could I explain the unease that had settled in my stomach, the feeling that I was walking into a minefield blindfolded? "He's... complicated."

"Complicated how? Does he have a secret family? A criminal past? A Basement with dead bodies?" she was saying all this with dreamy eyes...should I be concerned about her mental health?

"What rubbish are you talking...he's the kind of man who walks into a room and commands the entire atmosphere, the attention he's given. Like he doesn't need to prove anything to anyone. It's infuriating. He makes me doubt myself, Bhumi."

Bhoomi's eyes lit up, surprise and something akin to knowing flashing in her eyes. "Or it's attractive. You know I just love those kind of men." she said it with dreamy eyes.

"I have work to do and I suggest you do yours " I retorted, shooting her a warning glare. She knew better than to push me when I was in work mode.

Bhoomi raised her hands in surrender, chuckling softly. "Fine, fine. But just so you know, being annoyed by someone that much? It usually means you care more than you think, Di. Don't you go falling for rich men."

I ignored her, turning back to the spreadsheet with a determined sigh.

I had bigger things to worry about.

Like finding out who had been subtly, meticulously, messing with Malhotra Industries' accounts.

And how much of it Raghav Malhotra already knew, and what he was willing to do to protect his empire.

Raghav's POV

Later that night, I stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of my study, the city lights twinkling below me like fallen stars. The weight of responsibility pressed down on me, a familiar burden I had carried for so long. My phone buzzed in my hand, the screen displaying Aditi's name. I answered without preamble, my voice clipped and impatient.

"Tell me you have something, Aditi."

Aditi's voice, usually calm and measured, was tighter than usual tonight. "Gauri Deshmukh's record is clean. Too clean, sir. She's methodical, precise, and leaves no loose ends. Her firm's reputation is built on discretion. Almost as if she's been trained for this specific job."

I exhaled slowly, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly even as the knot in my stomach tightened. I had expected as much. She was too sharp, too observant to be careless. There was a sense of deliberate control about her that mirrored my own.

"She's not your enemy, Sir," Aditi said carefully, her tone cautious. "Just an auditor doing her job."

I wasn't so sure. Something about Gauri Deshmukh felt different. Maybe it was her refusal to be intimidated, maybe it was the way her eyes seemed to see right through my charade. Either way, I was unable to shake off the feeling that she was a force to be reckoned with.

But one thing was certain - Gauri Deshmukh wasn't just another auditor.

And I had a feeling our game had only just begun, that things were about to get a lot more complicated. It was the first time in my life I couldn't predict a person, couldn't ascertain her motives. I didn't know if she would ruin me, ruin the company, or maybe, just maybe... ruin me. And the unsettling nature of that uncharacteristic uncertainty left a bad taste in my mouth.

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