Chapter 11

InkedImagination

@Queen0fDarkness

Chapter 11 - Unravelling

It was a couple of days later that Geet sat calmly applying her lipstick while she could hear the chaos that brewed just outside her bedroom door. She stared at her reflection, a small, satisfied smile on her lips. Using the access she’d gained to their phones, Geet began her next phase. Raj’s phone was the first target. She fabricated text messages from an unknown number, carefully crafting the tone and context to suggest a secret affair. The messages were subtle but damning enough—expressions of longing, hints of clandestine meetings, and endearing nicknames. She ensured the timestamps aligned with times when Raj had claimed to be in late meetings or away on business trips.

Veena’s phone was next. Geet mirrored the fabricated messages there, but this time, she altered the sender to display as “Raj”. The effect was devastating—her edits made it seem as though Raj was accidentally texting Veena messages intended for his supposed lover.

When she finished, she leaned back in her chair, her expression coldly satisfied. The once-perfect Khurana marriage, which had always been a symbol of power and unity, was about to fracture.

Veena, who prided herself on her dignity and control, was livid. The mere suggestion that Raj could betray her was enough to shake her to her core.

“I don’t have time for this nonsense, Veena!” Raj’s voice was sharp, but there was an edge of defensiveness to it.

“Don’t lie to me, Raj!” Veena’s voice, usually so composed, trembled with a mix of anger and hurt. “I saw the messages. You’re sloppy. You didn’t even bother to hide them properly”.

Raj’s frustration boiled over. “What messages? I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Oh, don’t play dumb. The late-night meetings, the texts—you’ve been having an affair, haven’t you?” Veena’s voice cracked, the accusation heavy in the air.

“You’re being ridiculous” Raj shot back, though there was a hesitation in his tone that only fuelled her suspicions. “I don’t even know who those texts are from! This is some kind of mistake—someone’s trying to sabotage us”.

Veena laughed bitterly. “Sabotage? Is that your excuse? Do you think I’m a fool?”

Geet slowly stood and opened the door, they quickly quietened masking their anger and plastered a smile at them. “Morning” she greeted them cheerfully as if she hadn’t heard them arguing.

“Morning, Geet. You haven’t gone to your office yet?” Veena asked.

“No, I woke up a little later and just came out of the shower and got ready” she lied. “I’m going to get going now. I’ll see you both later” she said with a smile walking past them to descend the stairs.

“Geet”.

“Yes?”

“Has Maan left already?” Raj asked.

“Yeah, he left earlier. Some issues came up or something” she responded nonchalantly.

Raj frowned but nodded at her. “Anything you hear stays in this house and between us” he stated.

“I didn’t hear anything” she responded and walked away. She grinned when they started arguing once again when they thought she was out of earshot.

Over the next few days, the tension between Raj and Veena only escalated. At dinners, Veena’s sharp remarks barely concealed her disdain, while Raj’s silence grew heavier with each passing meal. The staff whispered among themselves, noting the icy atmosphere that had settled over the once-unshakeable couple.

Maan, oblivious to Geet’s machinations, grew increasingly concerned. “Have you noticed how tense they’ve been lately?” he asked Geet one evening as they prepared for bed.

Geet looked at him thoughtfully as she brushed her hair. “They’ve seemed a little distant, yes” she said carefully. “Maybe it’s just stress. Your father has been working a lot, hasn’t he?”

Maan nodded and sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Yeah. But this feels… different. I’ve never seen them like this before”.

Geet turned around and offered a sympathetic smile. “They’re a strong couple, Maan. I’m sure they’ll work through whatever it is”.

Inside, she relished the irony of her words. The cracks she had planted were growing wider, and the once-powerful Khuranas were beginning to crumble.

The following evening Veena cornered Raj in the library, her eyes blazing with fury. “I want the truth” she demanded, her voice trembling. “If you have any respect left for me, tell me now”.

“I’ve told you a thousand times” Raj snapped as his patience was worn thin. “There is nothing to tell because I haven’t done anything!”

Veena shook her head, her expression crumpling into something raw and vulnerable. “I thought we were a team, Raj. I thought we were unbreakable. How could you do this to me?”

Raj’s jaw clenched, his own frustration warring with a flicker of guilt—guilt not for an affair, but for the countless compromises and unethical decisions he had made in his life, decisions that had always put their image above their relationship. “Veena” he said, his voice softer, “you’re letting your imagination get the better of you. Please, let’s just… talk this through”.

But Veena wasn’t listening. She turned on her heel, her steps echoing down the hallway as Raj slumped into a chair, running a hand through his hair.

Geet watched from the shadows, her expression unreadable. For the first time, she felt a flicker of something unexpected, something dangerously close to pity. But she pushed it aside, steeling herself.

“This is only the beginning” she murmured to herself, slipping away unseen.

While the personal turmoil unfolded, Geet had also set her sights on dismantling the Khurana businesses. Raj’s once-thriving projects were now mired in chaos. Delays in permits, sudden inspections, and unexplained supply chain disruptions had brought his ventures to a grinding halt. Geet had methodically hacked into his project management systems, planting false data and triggering logistical nightmares that spiralled out of control.

Investors, once eager to align themselves with the Khurana name, began withdrawing their support. Rumours swirled of mismanagement and hidden liabilities, eroding the trust that Raj had spent decades building.

In Veena’s world, things were no better. Geet had carefully planted fabricated records of undeclared funds in Veena’s company accounts, ensuring they were flagged during routine audits. The HMRC investigation that followed was swift and ruthless, freezing key accounts and halting operations.

Veena had spent the morning on frantic phone calls, her voice sharp and clipped as she tried to salvage her company. “This is absurd! My accounts are impeccable!” she hissed into the receiver. “There’s been a mistake. Fix it!”

Maan was caught in the middle of the chaos, and he struggled to hold everything together. His parents’ constant fighting had begun to affect him deeply, and the mounting business troubles only added to his stress. He spent late nights poring over spreadsheets, making desperate phone calls, and trying to reassure investors.

One evening, he climbed into bed and thumped down with a heavy sigh. Geet stirred awake and noticed the dark shadows on his face, line of tension formed on his forehead.

“Sorry” he whispered noticing he had awoken her.

“No, it’s ok. Are you okay?” she asked.

“I don’t know” he shifted and rested his head on her chest. Geet curled her arms around him and sifted her fingers through his hair.

“You’re working too hard, Maan” she murmured.

“I don’t have a choice” Maan replied wearily. “Everything is falling apart, Geet. The business, my parents… I feel like I’m losing control of everything. Maa and dad won’t tell me why they’re arguing and giving each other the cold shoulder. And now the office… I don’t know what the hell to do”.

“Maan, this is just a rough path. It happens. You’re doing everything you can. Things will get better” she said with a reassuring voice.

“I don’t know what I would do without you” he said as he lifted his head and looked down at her. “You’re the only precious thing that is keeping me sane right now” he whispered.

Geet smiled softly and cradled his cheek. “I’ll always be here for you, Maan. I’ll be your warmth, your comfort in this storm” she whispered.

He smiled slowly unaware that his own wife was the raging storm in his life. He leaned down kissing her deeply.

Maan’s lips lingered on hers, the depth of his kiss filled with raw emotion and need. Geet responded as she always did, her movements deliberate, calculated, and perfectly in tune with his. But tonight, something stirred faintly within her—a whisper of unease she couldn’t quite push aside.

Maan pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers. “You’re my anchor, Geet” he murmured, his voice thick with gratitude and affection. “I don’t know how you stay so strong for me, but I thank God every day that you do”.

Geet forced a soft smile, her fingers brushing against his jawline. “You’re not alone in this, Maan. We’ll weather this storm together” she whispered, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. She had practiced this role perfectly, but the sincerity in his gaze made her chest tighten in a way she hadn’t anticipated.

As he leaned in again, claiming her lips with a tenderness that betrayed his vulnerability, Geet let herself surrender briefly, not to the kiss but to the role she played. Her hands moved up his shoulders, pulling him closer as she masked her inner turmoil. The man she had vowed to destroy held her as though she was his salvation, and it left her with a flicker of doubt she couldn’t afford to entertain.

However, there were cracks forming in her tenacity, Maan’s love for her was undeniable and she had underestimated the impact it would have on her. Every time, he looked at her with those large, soulful eyes filled with trust, love and adoration, it had chipped at the barriers she had built around her heart. She hated that part within her that was starting to care, that had started seeing more to the man than the Khurana name.

“Geet” Maan groaned, his voice rough with longing as he trailed his lips from her cheeks then down to her collar bone. He nipped at her shoulder, his breath warm against her soft skin and she tilted her head back feeling a shiver racing down her spine. Geet pressed her lips together fighting back her moan, her body betraying her as she found herself riding the wave of pleasure that coursed through her entire body. She wasn’t supposed to feel anything but cold detachment, wasn’t supposed to let herself be affected by his touch, his love. And yet, here she was, her determination wavering under the weight of her conflicting emotions. She wanted to hate him, to focus on the pain he had caused her family, but every gentle kiss, every whispered word of love, made it harder to cling to her anger.

Geet squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to focus. This was a means to an end, she reminded herself fiercely, her inner voice trembling with conviction. This was her game, her mission, and Maan Singh Khurana was the enemy.

And yet, as he pulled her closer, murmuring her name like a prayer, she felt the fragile threads of her plan begin to unravel, leaving her staggering on the edge of a dangerous cliff - one where the lines between hate and love, vengeance and surrender, were becoming impossibly blurred.

It was a couple of days later, the Khuranas suffered another hit. They were thrust into the eye of a storm with damning headlines of alleged fraudulent activities. Every major news outlet and social media platform was dominated with their news only.

"Khurana Group Under Fire: Allegations of Fraud and Financial Mismanagement"

"The Fall of an Empire? Raj Khurana Faces Investigation for Corporate Corruption"

"Maan Singh Khurana: The Heir to a Legacy of Lies?"

“Maan!” Raj yelled for his son as he read the news article.

“What is it?” he called out as he released Geet from his arms and walked out of their bedroom. “We’re coming down for breakfa…” he stopped seeing Raj’s expression. He hurried down quickly and snagged the newspaper out of his father’s hand. “What the fu…” he looked stumped as his eyes scanned the newspaper. He then pulled out his phone checking the online platforms. “Dad… What is all this?” he asked.

“I… I don’t know” Raj looked as shocked and felt his heart plummet.

Both realised how damaging this was and felt a wave of panic wave over them as within seconds, their phones started ringing.

Geet slowly walked out and watched her husband and father-in-law trying to scramble and work on containing this mess.

The media was relentless, dissecting every aspect of the Khurana Group’s operations. Analysts debated on live television whether the once-mighty conglomerate could survive the scandal.

Whistleblowers came forward, or so it seemed, corroborating the leaked documents with claims of misconduct and unethical practices within the company. The narrative was clear: the Khurana dynasty was crumbling.

The fallout was immediate and devastating. Investors panicked, flooding the company’s phone lines with demands for answers, and then pulling their funds in droves when none came. High-profile business deals, which had been the backbone of the Khurana Group’s international expansion, were abruptly cancelled. Clients severed ties, unwilling to associate themselves with a tainted brand. The financial haemorrhaging was staggering with millions lost within days as the company scrambled to contain the damage.

Everything was unravelling very fast.

Maan, who had been struggling to keep things afloat even before the articles broke out had now found himself drowning in a sea of chaos. His once meticulous appearance now gave way to dark circles under his eyes and a perpetual shadow of stubble on his jaw. He worked around the clock, barely pausing to eat or sleep.

Late one night, he stood in the dimly lit office, his tie loosened and his sleeves rolled up, staring at the glowing screens before him. His laptop displayed another round of frantic emails from investors, while his phone buzzed incessantly with calls from journalists seeking statements.

“This isn’t just bad press, it’s a full-blown crisis” he muttered feeling overwhelmed and frustrated.

It was during another tense board meeting that Maan tried to figure out a way to control the damage. “We need to release a statement. Reassure the public and our investors. We can no longer stay silent because it’s getting worse”.

Raj who had been listening slammed his fist on the table. “What exactly do you want to say to them? How do we reassure them?” he yelled. “All of this…” he pointed angrily at the documents. “Makes us guilty of fraud, it shows that we’ve been scamming our investors, the HMRC and pocketing the money! Where did all these damn documents come from?”

Maan pinched the bridge of his nose, his frustration boiling over. “Dad, it doesn’t matter where they came from! What matters is that the world believes them. If we don’t respond, we’re admitting guilt by default”.

“This is an orchestrated attack” he growled, pacing the length of the room. “Someone is out to destroy us. No one stumbles across this level of detail by accident. These documents - they’re too precise, too damning. Someone has it out for us”.

“Who, Dad?” Maan asked, exasperation creeping into his voice. “Who would go to such lengths? We’ve made enemies, sure, but this? This is personal”.

Raj’s silence spoke volumes, his face a mask of barely contained rage as he gritted his teeth. “I don’t know” he admitted quietly, the words bitter on his tongue. “But whoever it is… they’ll regret this”.

In the midst of all this, Veena was trying to save her own company from the tax regulators. Papers were strewn across her desk, her normally pristine shelves now cluttered with files and binders hastily pulled out in a desperate attempt to locate missing documents. Veena stared at the documents, her eyes bloodshot from hours of scrutiny. "This can't be happening” she whispered to herself, her voice cracking under the weight of her predicament. The fabricated records Geet had planted were too well-designed, seamlessly integrated into her otherwise spotless accounts. No matter how hard she looked, Veena couldn’t find an explanation for the anomalies.

Her phone buzzed, and she snatched it up. "What now?" she snapped. It was her legal advisor, his tone cautious.

"Mrs. Khurana, we've reviewed the flagged transactions. The records appear authentic, but.”..

"But what?" she interrupted impatiently.

"But there are no original files to compare them with. It's as if these records were always part of your system”.

Veena gritted her teeth. "That’s impossible! My records are impeccable! There has to be a mistake. Keep looking, and don’t come back to me without answers”.

She ended the call abruptly, her frustration bubbling over. Her hands trembled as she massaged her temples, trying to stave off the pounding headache that had become a constant companion.

Later that night, Veena retreated to her office, pouring herself a glass of wine as she reviewed the flagged transactions yet again. Offshore accounts. Unaccounted-for transfers. These were not the mistakes of her staff; they were the work of someone with intimate knowledge of her company’s inner workings.

She stared at the glowing screen of her laptop, her vision blurring with exhaustion and frustration. The weight of the investigation, the pressure to maintain her family’s image, and the strain of her crumbling marriage were taking their toll.

In the corner of the desk sat a framed photograph of the Khurana family, taken during happier times. Veena picked it up, her fingers brushing over the glass as she studied their smiling faces. For the first time in years, she felt vulnerable, her carefully constructed world teetering on the brink of collapse.

“We don’t crumble” she muttered to herself, her voice resolute. “Not this family. Not me”.

But as she set the photo down and returned her focus to the damning numbers on her screen, a nagging voice whispered at the back of her mind: This time, you might not be able to stop it.