Chapter 9

**The Revelation**

The study was filled with a tense silence as Arman faced Ayesha, her expression guarded and resolute. The note and the printed article lay between them, the evidence of her suspicions clear. Arman’s brow furrowed as he looked at her, sensing the weight of the conversation that was about to unfold.

Ayesha crossed her arms, her voice calm but firm. “Who is Natasha’s silent partner, Arman? Don’t lie to me.”

Arman glanced at the article, his jaw tightening. “Where did you get this?”

“That’s not the question,” Ayesha replied. “The question is whether you’re involved. Did you fund her boutique?”

For a moment, Arman said nothing. Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yes, I did.”

Ayesha’s heart sank. The confirmation felt like a blow, and she struggled to keep her emotions in check. “Why? After everything we’ve been through, why would you do this?”

“It’s not what you think,” Arman said quickly. “This happened months ago, before you and I started trying to fix things. Natasha came to me in a bad place, and I felt obligated to help her. But that’s all it was—an obligation.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” Ayesha asked, her voice rising. “Do you have any idea how this makes me feel? Like I’m competing with a ghost from your past?”

Arman stepped closer, his expression pleading. “I didn’t tell you because I knew how it would look. But I swear, Ayesha, I’m not involved with her anymore. This was a mistake, and I regret it.”

Arman’s explanation hung in the air, and Ayesha felt torn. Part of her wanted to believe him, to trust that his intentions had been innocent. But another part of her couldn’t shake the feeling of betrayal.

“You’ve always had the upper hand in this marriage, Arman,” she said softly. “You’ve always made the decisions, kept the secrets. But I’m done being in the dark. If we’re going to make this work, there can’t be any more lies.”

Arman nodded, his expression solemn. “You’re right. No more lies. I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back, Ayesha.”

Before their conversation could continue, the study door opened, and Priya stepped inside, her gaze sharp. “What’s going on here?” she demanded, her tone icy.

Ayesha stiffened but held her ground. “We’re discussing something that doesn’t concern you, Priya.”

Priya’s lips curved into a cold smile. “Oh, but it does concern me. Everything that happens in this house concerns me. And if you’re questioning Arman about Natasha, then I think I deserve to know why.”

Arman glared at his mother. “This has nothing to do with you, Maa. Stay out of it.”

But Priya wasn’t deterred. “You’ve always been too soft on Ayesha, Arman. She’s turning you against your own family, and now she’s dragging Natasha into this mess?”

Ayesha’s temper flared. “I’m not the one dragging Natasha into anything. If anything, she’s the one who won’t let go of the past—just like you.”

The confrontation escalated, with harsh words exchanged between the three. But in the end, it was Arman who silenced the argument with a single statement:

“I’ve made my choice,” he said firmly. “And my choice is Ayesha. If you can’t accept that, Maa, then maybe it’s time you stopped interfering.”

Priya’s stunned silence spoke volumes, and for the first time, Ayesha felt like she wasn’t fighting this battle alone. Arman’s support, though imperfect, was real, and it gave her a glimmer of hope.

That night, as they lay in bed, Ayesha turned to Arman. “Do you really mean what you said earlier? About choosing me?”

Arman looked at her, his gaze steady. “I do. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you, Ayesha. But you have to give me the chance.”

Ayesha nodded slowly. “I’ll give you the chance, Arman. But only if you promise—no more lies, no more secrets.”

“I promise,” he said, taking her hand in his. “We’ll face whatever comes together.”

The next morning, as Ayesha prepared for the day, another envelope arrived at the house. This time, it was addressed to her directly. She opened it with trembling hands and read the contents:

“You think you’ve won, but this is far from over. Natasha isn’t your only problem. Someone else has been watching, waiting. Be careful, Ayesha. The truth is closer than you think.”

Ayesha’s heart raced as she reread the letter. Whoever was behind these messages was determined to unsettle her—and it was working. But she refused to be intimidated.

With the letter in hand, she resolved to uncover the truth, no matter what it took.

The cryptic letter weighed heavily on Ayesha’s mind as she sat in the study, the faint scent of ink lingering on the paper. The words echoed like a warning bell: “The truth is closer than you think.” But whose truth? And why was someone so intent on creating chaos in her life?

Ayesha knew she couldn’t share the letter with Priya. She’d twist the situation, turning it into another point of control. Even Arman, despite his recent efforts, wasn’t entirely free from her doubt. She folded the letter carefully and placed it inside her journal, making a silent vow to uncover the sender’s identity herself.

Life in the Shah household resumed its usual rhythm—or at least the illusion of it. Priya maintained her frosty demeanor, though she seemed to keep her distance for now. Arman, true to his word, focused on their joint project, throwing himself into their foundation plans with unexpected enthusiasm.

One afternoon, as Ayesha finalized a proposal for the foundation’s first initiative—a scholarship program for underprivileged girls—Arman approached her, holding two steaming cups of chai.

“You’re really good at this,” he said, placing a cup beside her.

Ayesha glanced up, startled. “At what?”

“At building something that matters,” he said with a smile. “I can see how passionate you are about this. It’s... inspiring.”

Ayesha felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words. “Thank you,” she said softly. “It’s important to me.”

“And it’s important to me now, too,” Arman added. “I want this to succeed—not just for us, but for the people it’ll help.”

For a fleeting moment, Ayesha felt like they were truly on the same team. But the lingering doubt planted by the letters refused to fade entirely.

That sense of calm shattered the following evening when Natasha appeared unexpectedly at the Shah house.

Ayesha had just returned from a meeting with potential donors for the foundation when she found Natasha sitting in the living room, sipping tea as though she belonged there.

“What is she doing here?” Ayesha demanded, her voice sharper than intended.

Natasha turned, her expression perfectly composed. “Good evening, Ayesha,” she said smoothly. “I just stopped by to discuss a personal matter with Priya. Nothing to concern yourself with.”

Ayesha turned to Priya, who sat nearby with a neutral expression. “Maaji, is this true?”

Priya tilted her head, her smile thin. “Natasha and I were discussing business opportunities. She’s been very successful lately, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

Ayesha clenched her fists. “Business opportunities? Or more interference in my marriage?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the tension. “Ayesha, you seem so... defensive. Do you feel threatened by me?”

“Not at all,” Ayesha shot back. “But I do wonder why you’re so determined to cling to a family that no longer needs you.”

Before Natasha could respond, Arman entered the room. His expression darkened the moment he saw Natasha. “Why are you here?” he asked, his tone clipped.

Natasha’s gaze softened, her voice taking on a pleading edge. “Arman, I’m not here to cause trouble. I came to discuss a professional matter with your mother. That’s all.”

Arman didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he turned to Ayesha. “Do you want her to leave?”

“Yes,” Ayesha said without hesitation.

Arman turned back to Natasha. “Then you should go.”

Natasha’s composure faltered briefly before she recovered, standing gracefully. “Of course. But remember, Arman,” she said with a small smile, “I’ll always be around if you need me.”

Her words lingered like a shadow as she walked out, leaving Ayesha and Arman to face the aftermath.

After Natasha’s departure, Arman turned to Ayesha, his expression conflicted. “I didn’t know she was coming,” he said quickly.

“I believe you,” Ayesha replied, surprising herself with her honesty. “But you need to make it clear to your mother that this has to stop. Natasha can’t keep appearing in our lives.”

Arman nodded. “You’re right. I’ll handle it.”

For the first time, Ayesha felt a small sense of victory—not over Natasha or Priya, but over her own fears. She had stood her ground, demanded respect, and was beginning to see the results.

But the letters, and the threats they implied, still loomed in the back of her mind. Someone else was pulling strings, and Ayesha knew she had to uncover the truth before her fragile peace crumbled entirely.