Page 25 of Not Safe for Work
PSA: If you’re going to lend your Versace jacket to someone who’s not your fiancée, at least make sure it’s not a knockoff. #InfidelityIsNotInFashion #NeitherAreFirstCopies
I went back to the post to swipe left. The second image in the carousel was a side-by-side comparison of Aditya’s jacket with the one on the brand’s website. The difference was impossible to miss. The real one had an embossed logo, whereas his looked printed.
My jaw must have dropped to the floor because Nikita lifted a finger to set it firmly back in place. ‘I guess money can’t buy you class,’ she said.
‘What are you going to do now?’ I asked, trying to wrap my head around what this meant for her. For anyone else, this would’ve been a nightmare. The insinuation that she was involved with Aditya Jindal was clear.TheAditya Jindal, the millionaire who was engaged to a billionaire’s daughter. And for a struggling actress to come between that? The tabloids would chew her up and spit her out. But Nikita didn’t look like she was panicking. She looked pleased—thrilled, even.
‘This is it, babe,’ she said breathlessly, her eyes widening in delirium. ‘This is my big break.’
By the time I left for work an hour later, she was filming a fit check in Aditya’s jacket.
I spent the entire train journey glued to my phone, scrutinizing the increasingly viral Instagram post. The comments section was flooded with breakup predictions, slut-shaming and all kinds of financial conspiracy theories about how Aditya’s company was dangerously close to bankruptcy, which is why he was marrying one of India’s richest businessman’s daughter. Meme pages had started posting ridiculous edits and were already garnering millions of views. Headlines were springing up one after another.
Business Tycoon Aditya Jindal Caught in Cheating Scandal
Cheating Rumours Swirl as Aditya Jindal’s Jacket Finds a New Shoulder
Who Is the Woman in Aditya Jindal’s Arms? Cheating Allegations Rock the Jindal Empire
As a scandal connoisseur, this should’ve been my annual highlight. I had insider knowledge about a @devilwearscolaba post that yesterday-me would’ve killed for. But something about it didn’t sit right.
I zoomed in, studying the photo more closely. The fairy lights, the jacket, the shameless look on Aditya’s face … it was all exactly how I remembered it. Except …
I thought back to that moment by the pool, to Nikita wobbling in her heels as Aditya reached out with his jacket. I’d been holding her arm then, steadying her. My hand had beenright there.But in the photo, it was gone. Not cropped—erased. The water behind her shoulder was too smooth, too perfect. Whoever had edited this hadn’t used one of those lazy AI object removers that warp the edges. This was real Photoshop work … lassoselection, content-aware fill, maybe even a bit of healing around the reflection.
A knot tightened in my stomach. What were the odds that more than one person at that party knew the Photoshop trick I’d shown Neil last week?
‘You willingly went to a stranger’s party?’ Tanya narrowed her eyes. ‘I don’t buy it.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t saywillingly,’ I said, sliding into Neil’s empty chair, trying to appear casual. ‘My flatmate dragged me.’
‘That actor girl? I didn’t know you both were pally like that …’
Neil’s laptop was screaming my name. I glanced around briefly before flipping it open and typing in the default password that HR gave to every new joinee. The screen lit up without protest.Ha!
‘We weren’t, not before this weekend. But she’s actually quite fun,’ I said, distracted, as I clicked through the surprisingly well-organized files on his system. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary at first glance.
Tanya hummed, completely oblivious to the fact that I was snooping through my intern’s stuff. ‘So, did anything exciting happen at this party?’
I was about to recount themanyexciting events of the party to her when I clicked on a seemingly normal folder and entirely lost my train of thought.
‘Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?’ Tanya’s voice jolted me back to my workstation. I mean,Neil’sworkstation.
I looked up from his laptop, blinking rapidly to focus on her face. She talked right over whatever I managed to mumble.
‘Anyway, the new DWC post? A cheating millionaire wouldn’t have surprised me … but a cheap one?’ She brought her fingers to her lips in a chef’s kiss. ‘Nowthat’sgold.’
I managed a weak smile, my thoughts in a world of their own. The open laptop on Neil’s desk was still glowing, the cursor blinking in a folder titled ‘Drafts’. Inside were thumbnails of fashion-forward Instagram grids, a Word doc full of caption options, each one more savage than the last, and photos I recognized from last month’s scandalous influencer takedowns. It took me a few moments to fully register what I had just discovered.
Neil was @thedevilwearscolaba.
Neil, my intern. My lazy, privileged, purposeless intern.
Was the man behind the most viral IG account in the city.
For a second, I just sat there, my throat dry. Tanya kept scrolling through her phone, still laughing, completely unaware that the person responsible for Mumbai’s juiciest fashion scandals sat one desk away from me.
For years, people had tried to unmask the person behind @devilwearscolaba. The internet was convinced it had to be an insider, not a pap. Fingers had been pointed at an A-list celebrity’s stylist and a few different socialites and influencers, but no incriminating evidence had surfaced against them. Some even suspected André, a well-connected hairdresser from the industry. But no one had ever considered that it could be a straight man. Granted, the straight man in question had great style, but still. I knew I’d just stumbled onto a gold mine.
