Prologue
Verma & Associates Law Firm
Seated at her mahogany desk, 32-year-old Arundhati Nair, one of the topmost Divorce lawyers in the country, exhaled sharply as she watched the breaking news on the television screen.
“Bollywood producer Anant Mukherjee accused of mental torture by wife Sadhna Mukherjee! The TV actress demands an exorbitant alimony as their marriage collapses in scandal!”
The anchor’s voice was crisp, and urgent, feeding into the frenzy that had gripped social media for days. A montage of clips flashed—Sadhna’s teary-eyed statement to the press, a dramatic slow-motion shot of her exiting a high-end restaurant, flanked by her PR team, looking every bit the wronged woman.
“Sources close to the actress claim that Anant Mukherjee subjected her to years of emotional neglect and manipulation. In an exclusive statement, Sadhna reveals: ‘I was trapped in a loveless marriage. I suffered in silence. But not anymore.’”
A flurry of celebrity reactions filled the screen. Some in Sadhna’s favor, calling her ‘brave’ for speaking out. Others condemned her for exploiting the system. A few industry bigwigs stayed neutral, choosing diplomacy over controversy.
“Will Anant Mukherjee fight back? Or will he cave under the weight of public scrutiny?”
The screen cut to a clip of paparazzi swarming Anant’s car outside his production house yesterday, cameras flashing, mics shoved forward.
“Mr. Mukherjee, is it true you mentally tortured your wife? Do you have any response to the allegations?”
Anant’s face was tight-lipped as he got into his car and drove away. This footage of his silence only fueled the narrative against him, that had been playing on almost every news channel.
With a flick of her manicured fingers, Arundhati muted the television, plunging the room into an eerie silence. She leaned back, crossing one long leg over the other, her crisp ivory blazer cinched at the waist, accentuating her toned figure. Beneath it, a silk emerald-green shirt peeked through, the color rich against her sun-kissed skin. She touched the delicate yet sharp-cut diamond pendant that rested at the base of her throat, thinking briefly.
Arundhati Nair, with a mind as lethal as her stilettos, had carved her place in the male-dominated legal world. She was the kind of woman who could dismantle an opponent with words alone. In short… she was a hurricane wrapped in elegance.
Anant Mukherjee with his sister Divya, sat across from Arundhati, his fingers interlaced, shoulders rigid. Divya was equally frustrated with the never ending ruckus her sister-in-law Sadhna had created in the name of divorce.
The air was thick with tension—the kind Arundhati had mastered navigating. She tapped a perfectly manicured nail against the desk and finally spoke.
“Anant, don’t let this media circus get to you. It’s all noise. And noise fades.”
He looked up, his frustration barely concealed.
“Noise?” His chuckle was hollow. “Sadhna is dragging my name through the mud. She’s making me out to be some kind of monster while demanding a fortune in alimony. Do you have any idea what this is doing to my reputation?”
“I know exactly what it’s doing,” she replied, unimpressed. “Which is why we’ll dismantle her claims—one fabricated allegation at a time.”
Divya leaned forward. “Aru, you have to help him. You know he’s innocent.”
Arundhati sighed, glancing at her friend. She and Divya had known each other for years, but in this room, she wasn’t just a friend—she was a lawyer.
“Sadhna isn’t just asking for a divorce,” Arundhati murmured, turning her gaze back to the muted television screen. “She’s playing a game. And she’s betting that you’ll fold.”
Anant clenched his jaw. “I won’t.”
A slow smirk ghosted Arundhati’s lip. Good.
“Then let’s begin,” she said, straightening in her chair. “We don’t just fight back, Anant. We make sure she regrets ever playing dirty. Your wife may have thrown out an outrageous alimony demand, but she won't see a single rupee she doesn't deserve. I’ll be handling this personally, ensuring her deception is laid bare in court.”
Anant leaned forward, his jaw tightening. “I have full faith in Verma & Associates,” he admitted. “But I’ll only be assured if Kushal Nair works on this case personally.”
The name sent a sharp pulse through the room. Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating and though Arundhati felt the weight of it, she didn’t flinch.
Advocacy was in her blood.
Her parents had been brilliant lawyers, revered in their time. But their time had been cut short. She had been too young when fate had ripped them away, leaving her orphaned in a world that thrived on power and strategy.
But she had never been alone.
Her uncle, Raj Verma, her father’s eldest brother, had raised her—not just as his niece, but as his legacy. Once the country’s topmost lawyer, Raj Verma had built Verma & Associates into an empire. And under his guidance, she had honed her skills with relentless precision—watching, learning, absorbing every lesson he had to offer.
At thirty-two, she was unstoppable—a master of legal warfare, feared and respected in equal measure. Young, but lethal. Her lips curled in a slow smirk, but there was nothing warm about it.
“That won’t be necessary, Anant,” she said, her voice dangerously smooth. “I can handle this with my own expertise. And I have Raj Uncle with me.”
“It’s not about expertise,” Anant countered, shaking his head. “It’s about the right manipulative mind. And Kushal is exactly that.” He exhaled sharply. “I trust him to twist this in my favor. Only then can I be at ease.” He leaned back, folding his arms. “In fact, I already called him. He should be here any moment.”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
Arundhati’s fingers curled slightly against the desk. Damn it. That arrogant, insufferable—
The door swung open, stealing the air from the room.
And then he walked in.
Kushal Nair.
At thirty-four, he was already one of the most unbeatable and respected divorce lawyers in the country. A man who had built his empire with his own blood, sweat, and ruthless intelligence.
Unlike many in his profession, Kushal had no privileged surname to lean on, no legacy backing him—he had clawed his way to the top, and fought through courtrooms where he was underestimated, undermined, and challenged. And yet, he never lost. Not once.
He had an uncanny ability to manipulate the legal battlefield, bending laws, twisting narratives, making the truth work in his favor. The most explosive divorce scandals—from A-list Bollywood celebrities to crooked politicians with hidden mistresses and secret families—had all been dismantled and won under his guidance.
He was ruthless, strategic, and absolutely lethal when it came to litigation.
And he looked exactly like the kind of man who won everything he wanted.
Tall and broad-shouldered, he carried himself with a confidence that was intoxicatingly effortless. The kind that made juries second-guess themselves, that made opposing lawyers break into a sweat, that made women stare a little longer than appropriate.
Dressed in an impeccable black suit, the fabric molded to his frame with a tailored precision that only came from expensive taste and a body that had earned it. He was a regular at the gym, and it showed—the sharp cut of his shoulders, the lean definition beneath layers of luxury. His olive-toned skin was smooth, his jawline sculpted to perfection, his raven-black hair slicked back just enough to look both controlled and carelessly sexy.
And then, of course, there was his smile—that killer smirk, the one that had made reporters trip over their words, that had turned courtroom arguments into mind games he always won.
But the most infuriating part?
Her uncle Raj Verma still adored him.
Even after everything.
Even with Arundhati and Kushal’s own marriage hanging by a thread, on the verge of destruction—Raj Verma hadn’t stopped treating him like his golden boy.
And now, here he was. As if nothing had changed.
“Anant,” Kushal greeted, striding forward with that signature confidence, his sharp gaze sweeping across the room—deliberately skipping over Arundhati as if she didn’t exist.
Typical.
He clasped Anant’s hand in a firm shake, his grip just as solid as his reputation.
“Rest assured, you won’t be paying a single rupee in alimony.” His voice was smooth and decisive. “In fact, we are going to sue her for defaming you with her baseless allegations. She’s going to go bankrupt if she doesn’t stop spilling dirt on your name in the media like this. I’ll make sure of it.”
Arundhati bristled.
Not a single glance her way.
Not a single acknowledgment.
How Damn Typical.
She exhaled slowly, pushing back her chair, her emerald-green shirt catching the light as she stood with calculated grace.
“Well, now that the mastermind is here,” she said, sarcasm dripping from every word, “I’ll leave you to it.”
She had just turned when her uncle Raj Verma, the founder of Verma & Associates, walked in. Even at sixty-four, his presence could command a courtroom without uttering a single word. A man who had built an empire on logic, strategy, and an ironclad reputation. His neatly combed silver-streaked hair and the sharp cut of his charcoal-grey suit made it clear—Raj Verma did not tolerate failure.
Arundhati halted mid-step, the urge to leave abandoned as her uncle entered the room.
“Mr. Mukherjee,” Raj greeted Anant, his handshake firm, his voice reassuring. “I want you to understand that this firm only takes on cases we know we can win. Your case will be handled by my best.” His gaze swept the room with absolute confidence.
Anant exhaled in relief. “I trust you, Sir. And I trust Verma & Associates.”
Arundhati took that as her cue to leave. Her fingers flexed at her sides, her body shifting toward the exit when her uncle’s authoritative voice cut through the air like a gavel striking wood.
“Arundhati and Kushal. You both will be working on this case together.”
She stilled.
A thick, suffocating silence spread in the room once more.
Arundhati’s head snapped toward her uncle, her obsidian-black eyes burning with disbelief.
“Excuse me?”
She wasn’t the only one who froze. Kushal, standing across the room, stiffened ever so slightly before he let out a slow, mocking chuckle.
“I don’t think that’s necessary, Sir,” he said, adjusting his cufflinks, his tone polite but edged with steel. “You know I can handle this alone.”
“And I don’t need him to work with me either,” Arundhati added coldly, her arms folding across her chest.
“This isn’t up for debate.” Verma’s gaze flicked between the two of them, the authority in his voice left no room for argument. “You are the best lawyers I have. And Anant needs the best right now—Arundhati’s intelligence and Kushal’s manipulation. We have to win this case. The firm’s reputation depends on it.”
The heat in the room was unbearable.
Arundhati glared at Kushal.
Kushal glared right back.
The tension between them was volatile, suffocating, and dangerously close to shattering.
It had been fourteen months since their marriage.
Nine months since they had started living separately.
Seven months since she had demanded a divorce—and he had refused.
And now?
They were fighting their own scandalous divorce battle in court—because it wasn’t mutual.
Their cold war had played out in whispers among their colleagues, and already a full-blown scandal in the eyes of the media as the country’s two top divorce lawyers were fighting their own legal battle to end their loveless marriage.
And now, they were expected to work together?
Impossible.
“That’s settled, then.” Raj Verma sighed turning to Anant again. “You have my word. Both of them will handle your case.”
Anant, although not oblivious to the war simmering between them, let out a relieved sigh. “Perfect.”
Perfect.
Arundhati had never hated a word more.
And across the room, Kushal Nair was still smirking.
So? How’s the start? Throughout writing this Prologue, I could feel the crackling chemistry between Kushal and Arundhati, even if their story had just started. Did you feel it too? Let me know in the comments. Will share the cover of this book soon. Stay tuned :)
Links to All Chapters
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Power packed... Romance between two hot headed lawyers.... eagerly waiting! Good luck Madhuri
Omg ... That was one hell of blockbuster promo... Right from their appearances, till their differences in just a meet was mind-blowing. I was so much captivated by both now... Can't wait to dive into the story now