Chapter 8: Torn Between Trust and Trouble
Narrated by Aanya Kapoor
I stared at Rohan like he had just spoken in ancient Greek.
"A lawsuit?" I repeated, voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded, jaw tight.
"Isha's suing me," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Technically, she's suing my company. For intellectual property theft."
My stomach dropped.
The words sounded heavy, final, like a prison sentence.
"But that's insane," I said. "You haven't even touched their code. You left before you even started building anything new."
He gave a bitter laugh. "Apparently, she claims I stole ideas we discussed during project meetings. Concepts. Designs. Even just intentions."
I blinked.
"She's suing you... over conversations?"
"Welcome to the tech world," he said dryly.
I slumped back into my chair.
The world outside The Ridge kept spinning — people laughing, coffee brewing, fairy lights twinkling — but for us, everything had just slammed to a halt.
---
For a long time, neither of us said anything.
Just breathing.
Processing.
Until finally, I found my voice.
"What do we do?" I asked.
He looked at me — really looked — and for a moment, I saw the exhaustion behind his confident mask.
"I fight it," he said. "That's the only option."
"Will it... affect tomorrow?" I asked hesitantly. "The meeting with Arjun?"
His silence was answer enough.
---
We ended up back on the rooftop, the night colder now, the wind biting through my thin jacket.
Rohan leaned against the railing, staring out at the city.
I hovered beside him, not sure if I should speak or just be there.
Finally, he broke the silence.
"I thought leaving Isha would be enough," he said, voice low. "I thought... if I walked away, she'd let me go. Start fresh. Clean slate."
I wrapped my arms around myself.
"You can't control what people do," I said gently.
He smiled — sad and beautiful and devastating.
"Yeah," he said. "But you always hope."
---
I inched closer.
"I believe you, Rohan," I said. "I know you didn't steal anything. I know who you are."
He turned, meeting my gaze.
And something cracked in his expression — something raw and unguarded.
"You believe me," he said, like he couldn't quite believe it himself.
"I do," I said simply.
Because I did.
Because even if everything else was complicated — the app, the lawsuit, our messy, half-built partnership — one thing was simple:
I trusted him.
---
We ended up sitting on the cold rooftop tiles, side by side, sharing my jacket between us like idiots.
Rohan scrolled through emails on his phone, frowning.
"Her lawyer's aggressive," he said. "They want an injunction — to freeze my work until the case is decided."
My heart skipped.
"If that happens..." I trailed off.
He nodded grimly. "Nudge gets shut down before it even launches."
The app.
Our app.
Our chance.
Gone.
---
"We have to fight back," I said fiercely. "We have to."
He smiled at me — a real smile this time, crooked and mischievous.
"You sound ready to storm a courtroom."
"I'll bring snacks," I said. "And a megaphone."
He laughed, the sound easing the knot in my chest.
Then he sobered.
"There's something else," he said. "Something you should know."
I tilted my head.
"Isha knows about you," he said.
I blinked. "What?"
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"She knows you're helping me. She... implied you might get dragged into this."
---
I felt the blood drain from my face.
"I could get sued?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
He shook his head quickly.
"No. Not sued. But maybe questioned. Maybe harassed. If she's feeling vindictive enough."
Great.
Just great.
Exactly what I needed — my name dragged through some corporate mud-slinging match.
But then Rohan said:
"I'll protect you."
I looked at him.
Really looked.
And I saw it again — the stubbornness. The loyalty. The fierce, stupid, beautiful heart.
He meant it.
He would protect me.
Even if it cost him everything.
---
Without thinking, I reached out and took his hand.
His fingers curled around mine instantly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"We'll protect each other," I said.
He squeezed my hand, warmth spreading through me like sunlight breaking through a storm.
And in that moment, I knew:
I wasn't walking away.
Not from him.
Not from this.
---
We stayed there, hands clasped, watching the city breathe below us.
And somewhere between the lawsuits and the heartbreak and the chaos of it all...
Hope bloomed.
Small.
Fragile.
Fierce.
---
The next morning, we met again at The Ridge — laptops out, game faces on.
But the energy between us had shifted.
It wasn't just partnership anymore.
It was something deeper.
Something dangerous.
Something inevitable.
---
As we tweaked the app and rehearsed our demo, Rohan's phone buzzed again.
He glanced at the screen, cursed under his breath.
"What is it?" I asked.
He showed me.
It was a text.
Unknown Number:
"You should stop working with him if you know what's good for you."
My blood ran cold.
"Who...?"
He shrugged, face tight.
"Isha's people. Probably."
I stared at the screen.
At the threat.
At the choice laid out before me.
---
I could walk away.
Right now.
Save myself.
No lawsuits.
No drama.
No heartbreak.
Just slip away, pretend none of this ever happened.
It would be easy.
It would be safe.
It would be wrong.
---
I stood up, heart pounding.
Rohan watched me, trying to mask the hurt in his eyes.
Trying to act like he wouldn't blame me if I ran.
I grabbed my laptop.
Grabbed my bag.
Then marched over to his side of the table.
Sat down next to him.
Side by side.
Shoulder to shoulder.
Stronger together.
I looked him dead in the eye.
"Let's finish this demo," I said.
He stared at me for a long moment.
And then — slowly — he smiled.
The kind of smile that made my heart stutter and my chest ache.
The kind of smile that promised:
We were going to win.
Together.
---
The rest of the day passed in a blur.
Final tweaks.
Practice runs.
Fixing bugs.
Laughing when everything crashed and burned — and rebuilding from the ashes.
And slowly, minute by minute, something beautiful began to form.
Something resilient.
Something real.
Not just the app.
Us.
---
That night, after hours of work, we stood on the rooftop again.
No fairy lights this time.
Just the stars.
Real and cold and brilliant.
Rohan turned to me.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "For staying."
I smiled, heart full.
"Always," I said.
He hesitated.
Then — slowly — he reached out.
Tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
Let his fingers linger against my cheek.
I caught my breath.
The air between us sparked.
Electric.
Dangerous.
I could see it in his eyes.
He was about to kiss me.
And God help me, I was going to let him.
---
But just before he could close the distance…
His phone buzzed again.
Urgent.
Sharp.
He groaned, pulling away.
"Sorry," he muttered. "I have to—"
I grabbed his hand.
"Later," I said, surprising both of us.
He stared at me.
And then, grinning like a man who just found treasure, he slid his phone back into his pocket.
"No more distractions," he said.
"No more distractions," I agreed.
---
And finally, finally...
He kissed me.
Slow.
Gentle.
Devastating.
Like a promise.
Like a beginning.
Like hope itself.
---
End of Chapter 8.
---
Teaser for Chapter 9:
The meeting with Arjun — make or break
Hidden enemies and unexpected allies
And the first cracks in Rohan's carefully hidden past start to show...