Unlawfully yours - Chapter 22: Chapter 22

The estate loomed in the darkness, its high walls and imposing gates a stark contrast to the chaotic night they had just escaped. The tension between Ishani and Aarav was thick, but the real weight in the air came from the two figures standing at the entrance.
Rohit Malhotra. Asha Malhotra.
Ishani had only seen them on TV or in newspapers, always associated with high-profile cases that shaped the country’s legal system. And now, they were here, standing before their son—the same Aarav who had never once mentioned them.
She could feel the shift in power. The sudden realization from the world that Aarav wasn’t just another law student. He was the heir to a legacy that made even the most influential people pause before crossing him.
His father spoke first, his tone calm but carrying a sharp edge.
“Bahut shauk hai na tujhe problem attract karne ka?” ("You have a habit of attracting trouble, don’t you?")
Aarav’s lips curled into a smirk, but there was no amusement in his eyes. “Problem mujhe attract karti hai.” ("Trouble attracts me.")
His mother, Asha Malhotra, stepped forward, her sharp eyes scanning him. “Tum theek ho?” ("Are you okay?")
Ishani felt a strange discomfort watching the exchange. She had expected some sort of dramatic family reunion or at least a confrontation, but there was none of that. There was no warmth, no unnecessary emotions—just understanding, like this wasn’t the first time Aarav had been in trouble.
Asha’s gaze flickered to Ishani. “Aur yeh kaun hai?” ("And who is this?")
Aarav didn’t even hesitate. “Ishani.”
That was it. No explanation. No title. Just her name.
Rohit’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes held a flicker of interest before he turned back to Aarav. “Tumhe pata hai tum kis se takraye ho?” ("Do you know who you’ve collided with?")
Aarav’s smirk returned, this time carrying something darker. “Pata hai. Aur unhe bhi ab pata chalega ki unhone kis se takraaya hai.” ("I know. And now they’ll know who they’ve messed with.")
Ishani felt her stomach twist. She had always known Aarav was dangerous in his own way, but standing there in the presence of his parents, she realized something else. He wasn’t just dangerous. He was inevitable.
Inside the estate, the air was thick with an unspoken tension. Aarav sat across from his parents in the vast study, while Ishani remained near the doorway, feeling like an outsider in a conversation she had no business hearing.
Rohit poured himself a drink, his movements slow and deliberate. “Tumhe samajh bhi hai ki tum kis mess mein ho?” ("Do you even understand what kind of mess you’re in?")
Aarav leaned back against the chair, his expression unreadable. “Mess nahi. Case.” ("Not a mess. A case.")
Asha sighed, setting down a folder on the table. “Yeh sirf ek case nahi hai, Aarav. Jis level ki log isme involved hain, woh kisi courtroom ka intezaar nahi karenge.” ("This isn’t just a case, Aarav. The kind of people involved won’t wait for a courtroom.")
Ishani frowned. The way they were talking—it was like they already knew more than they were letting on.
Aarav took the folder without reacting, flipping through the pages. His jaw tightened slightly, but his voice remained casual. “Toh tum dono bhi isme involved ho.” ("So you two are involved in this too.")
His father didn’t deny it. “Aaj tak humne sirf courtroom tak cheezein handle ki hai. Tum courtroom se bahar nikal gaye ho.” ("Until now, we’ve only handled things in the courtroom. You’ve stepped out of it.")
Aarav closed the file and met his father’s gaze head-on. “Mujhse panga lena ab unki sabse badi galti hogi.” ("Messing with me will be their biggest mistake.")
Ishani watched the exchange in silence. There was something unsettling about it—not the way Aarav spoke, but the way his parents didn’t seem surprised by his confidence. It was as if they had always known he was built for something more than just the law.
Later, when they were alone in one of the guest rooms, Ishani finally let out the frustration that had been burning inside her.
“Tu mujhe kab batane wala tha?” ("When were you planning to tell me?")
Aarav leaned against the window, his face unreadable in the dim light. “Jab zarurat hoti.” ("When it was necessary.")
She let out a sharp breath. “Aur tujhe kab laga ki zarurat hai? Jab koi humein maarne ke liye peeche pada tha?” ("And when did you think it was necessary? When someone was trying to kill us?")
His jaw tightened, and for the first time, he hesitated before speaking. “I didn’t want you to see me differently.”
Ishani blinked, caught off guard. “Mujhe farq nahi padta ki tu kis parivaar se hai. Mujhe farq padta hai ki tu mujhse sach chupata hai.” ("I don’t care which family you come from. I care that you hide the truth from me.")
The air between them shifted. There was no arrogance in his eyes, no cold indifference—just something raw. Ishani felt her pulse quicken, her anger mingling with something else entirely.
For a second, neither of them spoke. Then Aarav’s phone buzzed, shattering the moment.
Ishani scoffed, stepping back. “Of course. Koi na koi hamesha interrupt karta hai.” ("Of course. Someone always interrupts.")
Aarav smirked slightly, but the moment between them had passed. He checked the message, and his expression darkened instantly.
She saw it too. One anonymous text.
"They know who you are now. It’s time."
Somewhere in the city, a man leaned back in his chair, staring at the screen that displayed Aarav’s image. A slow smile formed on his lips.
“So… he’s a Malhotra.”
He picked up his phone and made a call. “Tell them. We move to the next phase.”