Episode 17

Samrat heaves a content sigh, after days he does, and so does Mishti.

It has been a hard week for both of them, especially Mishti who had found herself sinking in the pit of guilt and betrayal every time she thought of what she did, but finally everything is good.

Aisha has done as she'd promised. With those four crore rupees back in Samrat’s account and his IT team and the bank portal acknowledging the transactions as a glitch, Mishti has finally been able to undo her mistake, a chance that people only rarely get in their lives.

The man in question although doesn't say much regarding the matter, neither does he dance of joy after hearing that his hard-earned money is back in his account (as if he ever would), he wears that look of equanimity on his face that makes him look him, the owner of one of the leading companies in India as well as half the thoughts that revolve around Mishti’s mind.

Currently leaning back in his chair, Samrat types away the errors that this untimely transaction had caused in his accounts, of course with the help of his CA who is there with him on the other side of the phone, while Mishti plates the same risotto that she had made on her first day, knowing that the man had liked it, him begrudgingly admitting the same being the proof.

“Your lunch, sir.” She states as she places the food on the dining table, unable to stop a small smile from crawling up her lips when she sees Samrat closing his laptop and phone in a sort of frenzy as soon as he sees the food, not so subtly letting the aromatic waft pass through his nose, his eyes closing momentarily in appreciation.

“Does it smell good?” Mishti asks, a small, teasing smile on her face not expecting an answer. Naturally, it comes to her as a surprise when she gets one anyway, that too in an affirmative.

Samrat nods.

“It does. You’re good at this, really good.”

Mishti’s unable to hide the surprise that flashes through her eyes at the sudden compliment, never having experienced getting one of these, not even from her brother. Though that’s a different thing that her bhai used to feed her by his hands after every bite he took and somewhere that meant to her more than any compliment ever could, but this – this means something as well.

“Th-Thank you.” Mishti chuckles nervously seeing which a huff of breath escapes Samrat’s lips as well, a chuckle.

“You don’t have to act so surprised; you know you are a good cook.” He states before digging into his food, nodding in approval at the rich and creamy taste of the risotto.

Mishti notices it and narrows her eyes, an uncharacteristic retort escaping her mouth.

“Well, sorry to break it to you, but you see ny employer is a rude man. He hasn’t said anything remotely positive about my food even once since I have started working for him and now, he expects me to not act so surprised at the very unexpected compliment!” she huffs while Samrat observes her with an amused look on his face, a small smile appearing on his lips as he eats his food.

“Sounds harsh.” He says, wiping his lips with a napkin before cocking a brow at her. “But I wouldn't call him rude, maybe he is just reserved.” He quirks with that enlivened glint in his eyes, drinking a sip of water to clear his palate, before standing up. “And this is the most you’ll get out of him.” With that he struts straight towards his room while Mishti stays put on her spot with her lips curved up into a –

“And you may stop smiling now.” Samrat calls out behind him, but Mishti doesn’t comply. She can’t find it in herself to.

*

Mihir and Tara sit on the couch together, watching a movie which leaves Ruhi and Raghav to stare at the duo impassively, feelings simmering in their heart that they don't quite want to admit, only pouting in regular intervals while glancing at each other, sharing pitying looks.

It's then when it happens.

Ranveer bursts through the door, eyes wide and limbs in a frenzy taking everyone by surprise, their attention averting towards him.

“His mother is going there!”

“What?” His brother is the first to confront him, brows furrowed in confusion. “Whose mother is going where? And why are you panting like that? Come, have a seat.” Raghav says patting the space on the sofa beside him, beckoning his brother who shakes his head in return.

“No, no! Guys, this is important.” He says, and that’s only when Raghav realizes that Ranveer for once doesn’t have any food item in his hands.

This is important.

“Samrat’s mother is going there, the same woman who employed Preeti a.k.a. Tara who is not there. Our Mishti is!” Everyone’s senses perk at the statement, Mihir immediately discarding the bowl of popcorn that he had in his hand, Tara’s fingers pausing on the t.v. remote.

“What? Are you sure?” Mihir asks with an urgent frown on his face.

Ranveer nods.

“But the agency didn’t give us any news about this. They always used to alert us from some upcoming danger.” Ruhi interrupts, standing up.

Mihir hums, a brooding look crawling up his face. “They used to, but I’m not surprised that they didn’t this time. Those people have been like this since the beginning of the mission. The reason behind their abrupt and very obvious tasks isn’t the accumulation of more money, as I had thought. It’s – it’s something else.”

All of them nod, agreeing.

“How did you know about it though?” Tara questions, coming to stand beside everyone

Ranveer gives a smug grin at the question as if he had been waiting to answer this question all his life.

“Oh, you guys need to thank my genius brain for this. You guys remember the day I had gone to give those eight lakhs worth of watch to Mishti, well not directly to her but I had dropped it in the garden. That day I had attached bug transmitters in Samrat’s house, a microphone and a camera. I couldn't put them inside his house for obvious reasons but they passed the information that we needed.” Ranveer explains, a proud smile on his face.

“Those workers were talking about Samrat's mother; how strict and rude she seems and how she assesses everyone’s working capabilities whenever she visits. And even though her temperament is least of our concern, Mishti should at least be aware of her arrival.” He says, his smile getting replaced by a serious look.

“That’s – that was thoughtful of you, Ranvi. We should’ve thought of doing something like this sooner.” Mihir says crossing his arms across his chest.

“Maybe we could tell Mishti do it. Install a camera or a bug inside the house. We'll be able to help her whenever she needs us that way.” Ruhi pipes in and preens when Mihir nods approvingly at the suggestion, although it doesn’t last for too long, with Tara intervening.

“We can do that, but it’s something to be done in the future. Our priority is that woman right now.” Tara says a determined look on her face that quickly turns into that of confusion. “It wasn’t clear you know, my photo. I had purposefully blurred it, by spilling coffee over it before putting it on my cv with those fake certificates and culinary degrees. And though it had surprised me that the woman had chosen me as her son’s cook, I hadn’t thought much about it. I had just received a call telling me that I was selected and that had been it.” Tara intervenes, a thoughtful look on her face.

“But now that I think about it, it seems a little weird about how she picked my cv out of those overqualified ones. It isn’t settling well with me.” She confesses guiltily.

Mihir hums. “I think so too. Right now, it is not only important to make Chutki aware of all this. We want her to not come in front of that woman at all. She has seen Tara’s photo as Preeti. If she’ll see Chutki there, everything will go downhill.” Mihir says, running a hand down his face, following it by a loud exhale.

“We’ll have to alert her before it’s too late.”