Confrontations and Revelations

Meanwhile, Ishita found Aditya at the reception desk, her heart still racing from the earlier chaos. She quickly explained her brother's situation, her voice urgent.

"Chota is in surgery, Aditya, and I need money for the fees."

Aditya's expression hardened with concern and frustration. "When were you planning to tell me this?" he scolded, his tone sharp. "You should have called me sooner." But seeing the distress etched on her face, he quickly calmed down. "Okay, let's go pay the fees."

Together, they headed to the billing desk. As they arrived, one of their colleagues informed them that the payment had already been made. Ishita frowned, confused. "What? Who paid it?" she asked, glancing around the bustling lobby.

Her colleague pointed towards the entrance, where Ishita spotted the back of a man getting into a sleek car. Without a second thought, she rushed outside, but by the time she reached the car, it had sped away. She muttered to herself, "Again, I didn't get a chance to thank him."

Just then, a memory sparked within her. Running back to the OPD, she found the coat the stranger had draped over her shoulders earlier. Frantically, she searched the pockets and pulled out a business card that read, PX Group. Determination flashed in her eyes as she whispered to herself, "I'll find him. And I'll thank him in person."

Later, Ishita sat by her brother's bedside, watching him sleep peacefully after the surgery. She had changed out of her wet clothes into something dry and comfortable, and finally, her mind was able to rest. Aditya walked in, holding a bowl of soup.

"Drink this, Ishita. You'll feel better," he said gently, offering her the bowl.

She smiled faintly, accepting the warmth of his support. "You should go home, Aditya. It's late," she urged softly.

Aditya crossed his arms, looking slightly annoyed. "First, you don't tell me about Chota's condition early on, and now you want me to leave?" He shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here."

The next day, the doctor checked on Ansh, his expression reassuring. "Ansh will regain consciousness soon." Not long after, Aditya walked into the room. Ishita looked at him, curiosity piqued. "Is your shift over?"

Aditya nodded. "Yes."

Ishita smiled and said, "Can you stay with Chota until I come back?"

"Okay, but where are you going?" Aditya asked, concern creeping into his voice.

"I'll be back soon," Ishita replied, her mind set on her next step.

An hour later, she stood in front of a tall building with the bold letters "PX" displayed prominently at the top. Ishita walked to the reception desk, where a girl greeted her. "How can I help you, ma'am?" the receptionist asked.

Ishita showed her the business card. "I want to meet him," she stated, her voice firm.

The receptionist asked if Ishita had an appointment. When she said no, the receptionist informed her that without one, she couldn't meet him. Ishita pleaded for a while, desperation creeping into her tone. Finally, the receptionist made a phone call and said, "Please go to the 20th floor," pointing toward the elevator on the left.

Taking a deep breath, Ishita stepped into the elevator, her heart pounding. When she reached the 20th floor, it was quiet, with few people around. She stood in front of the CEO's office, knocked on the door, and heard a voice say, "Come in."

As she entered, she noted how everything was perfectly in place. But before she could take it all in, a voice from the main desk broke her thoughts. "What do you want?"

It was the man behind the desk. Ishita squared her shoulders. "I want to thank you and return your coat."

"There's no need to thank me. If I hadn't helped you, who would have?" he replied, his tone casual yet tinged with something deeper.

Startled, Ishita looked up at the man's face, and memories flooded back—memories of her younger self saying, "Papa, aap humse pyaar nahi karte" (Papa, you don't love us).

Snapping back to the present, she said, "You've got the wrong person."

But the man, Kabir Shah, insisted, "I recognized you last night when I saw your mother's pendant around your neck. Why are you acting like this, Ishita? I am your father." He stepped forward, attempting to hug her.

Emotions surged within her, overwhelming and painful, but Ishita quickly gathered her strength and pushed him away. "Mr. Kabir Shah, you are not my father," she said sternly.

Her mother had passed away from an illness, and after her death, Kabir had remarried. He had ignored the suffering of Ishita and Ansh, who had endured their stepmother's cruelty. When Ansh was just ten, Ishita had run away from Delhi to Mumbai, determined to escape.

Kabir, still pleading, said, "I looked for you but couldn't find you. Please, come back home." He was a prominent businessman with his main office in Delhi.

Ishita responded coldly, "Mr. Shah, I'm not going with you. I came here to thank you, and I'll repay your money soon." She handed him the coat and turned to leave, her heart heavy with unresolved emotions.

Later, as she stood near the hospital gates, a car came speeding out of the parking lot and crashed into a vegetable stall. Ishita rushed over to help, finding an elderly man on the ground, clutching his head and lamenting his losses. She helped him to his feet, her focus narrowing, then marched to the car, knocking on the window with resolve.

"Get out!" she shouted.

After a moment, the car door opened, and out stepped a man dressed in black from head to toe. Ishita recognized him instantly—the man from the VIP room the previous night. But unlike before, when he seemed weak and vulnerable, today he radiated danger.

Veeraj Singh stared at her coldly, his expression unreadable. Ishita thought, "Is he even human?" He couldn't see her face clearly due to the medication from the night before, but he recognized her scent—it was the same as her dupatta from the previous night. He studied her intently, absorbing every detail.

When Ishita spoke again, her words jolted him back to reality. "Apologize to that uncle for hitting his stall," she demanded.