Page 133 of Since the Night We Met
‘Siya has always had a hyperactive mind,’ Kartik taunted, and squeezed her palm under his. It had been a gesture to tell her to shut up since they began attending events together, but this time, silence was no longer her obligation.
‘Well, you’ve raised me to think for myself,’ she replied, her voice so pleasant that only someone who truly knew her would catch the steel beneath it. ‘I just didn’t realise I’d be using it this way.’
His nostril flared when he caught her meaning, before smoothing back into composure. The cameras would never catch it but she did.
‘How long has Karielle been in the works? How has Kartik sir helped you in achieving this dream?’
Siya felt Kartik’s thumb dig into her pulse at her wrist and a sharp sting of pain shot up her arm. She had to swallow the wince with some effort. She’d had enough.
She turned fully to face Kartik, her tone syrup-smooth when she asked loud enough for everyone to hear. ‘Dad, what do you think? Should I tell them the real story?’
His eyes widened, and finally, the crushing pressure on her wrist eased enough that her posture relaxed. She let go of his elbow altogether and answered the question. ‘When Abhay and I got married, my father gave us my late mother’s will. In it, my mother stated her wish that upon my marriage, all the copyright and license along with ownership of the entire Kashyap Luxe jewellery archive would pass down to me.’
‘How have we never heard about this before?’ a woman in the front asked, shifting close enough that the press badge around her neck rubbed against the stage.
‘Because while my mother left me a foundation, my father chose to teach me humility before inheriting this legacy. I’m proud to have learned from that kind of fire.’
‘And do you have full support for this decision from Kartik sir?’
‘Of course, my father supports this decision completely. After all, he’s the one who handed me the envelope that day.’
She saw the moment it struck him that she’d found the will he’d tried to destroy. For the first time, Siya saw genuine fear in her father’s eyes—fear of her. She didn’t feel triumph or even vindication, but she revelled in the clarity of no longer being afraid of him.
‘So, it’s House of Karielle and not Kashyap Luxe who owns the exclusive rights to the jewellery collection showcased tonight?’
‘Yes,’ Siya answered.
‘So what’s the future for Kashyap Luxe?’
He lifted his hand toward the mic, but she answered, ‘My father has always been a Sharma by blood. He took my mother’s last name Kashyap and wore it with pride as a tribute to her love. But now, he’s chosen to return to his roots.’
Kartik went rigid as fury simmered beneath the surface of civility. His eyes darted to the cameras, then back to her, like he was calculating how much of this he could refute without destroying what little image he still had.
‘Kashyap Luxe will be dissolved. Dad will be leading a new chapter of his life with a new company with a new vision, and new collections as Kartik Sharma.’
‘That’s not—’ Kartik began and Siya pushed the mic down and pinned him with a smile.
‘Remember, Dad. The cameras are still rolling,’ she said, with just as much venom in her tone. For the cameras, he was still the proud father, but she felt the tremor of his bubbling anger in the subtle shifts of his body.
‘You think you can get away with this, you bitch? I’ll fucking ruin you,’ he whispered in her ear.
Siya threw her head back and spoke in a hushed tone. ‘Aw, you are angry. If you want to speak to the media, go ahead, but do it knowing that I will answer you. This time, Dad, I won’t be quiet and you won’t like what comes out.’
She wasn’t bluffing and he heard the threat loud and clear. She looked at him as the man who had shaped her, hurt her, silenced her, and saw him looking back at her with something like recognition. A faint sheen of sweat was forming at his temple, glaringly obvious under the harsh stage lights.
He leaned closer and murmured, ‘You don’t have to do this. We can fix it—’
She cut him off with a soft laugh that to the press would sound like affection. ‘You destroyed my mother’s will, denied me my birth right, neglected my medical care. So no Dad, you can’t fix shit.’
‘Enough now,’ he warned her. ‘You’ve made your fucking point.’
‘I’m not making a point. I’m simply taking back what you thought you could take from me.’
She faced the room again, and gestured for the next question.
The same journalist asked, ‘Will your stepbrother Dhruv be joining your new company or will he stay with Kashyap Luxe?’
Siya knew exactly where he sat. She didn’t look toward him, but repeated the offer she’d given him a day ago. ‘It’s up to Dhruv, but there will always be a seat for him at my table.’
