“…Bhaskar.”
For a moment, I thought I had misheard.
“Our contractor?”
Advocate Devyani’s voice trembled through the speaker.
“Yes, Mrinalini. Bhaskar—the man who supervised construction, the man who knew your father, and the man you trusted with the keys to your property.”
I looked toward Avinash.
He closed his eyes.
Yamini slowly placed her hand over her mouth.
For three years, Bhaskar had called me every Saturday with updates.
He had helped me select tiles.
He had inspected the foundation.
When I ran short of money, he had told me not to worry because my father had once been kind to him.
And all that time, he had apparently been working with my husband.
“Why?” I whispered.
Devyani paused.
“Because Triveni Infrastructure was registered using the name of Bhaskar’s wife. The company’s banking records suggest it received payments that had little connection to your construction.”
Yamini began trembling.
“How much money?”
“According to the documents you’ve sent me, possibly more than ₹1.6 crore.”
The room fell silent.
I turned toward Yamini.
Her diamond ring glittered beneath the ceiling light.
She stared at Avinash.
“You told me every dollar was going into this house.”
Avinash looked away.
Yamini’s voice rose.
“I sold my apartment in New Jersey!”
I felt a sharp pain in my chest.
She had not merely purchased expensive door handles.
She had sold her home.
For him.
Just as I had sold my mother’s necklace.
Just as I had spent three years waiting.
Two women, thousands of miles apart, had sacrificed their security for the same man’s promises.
I looked at Avinash.
“Where is the money?”
He rubbed his forehead.
“It’s complicated.”
I almost laughed.
“Of course it is.”
Yamini stepped toward him.
“Answer her.”
He looked at us both.
“I invested some of it.”
“In what?” I demanded.
He remained silent.
Devyani’s voice came through the phone again.
“Mrinalini, don’t sign anything, and please preserve all original documents. We need an independent examination before deciding what claims can be made.”
I nodded.
Then I looked at Avinash.
“You need to leave.”
He frowned.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
I took out my phone.
“Then we can ask the police to help us deal with this peacefully.”
He stared at me.
For a moment, I feared he might become violent.
Instead, he picked up his suitcase.
Before leaving, he turned toward Yamini.
“Are you coming?”
She looked at him with such disgust that even I felt the force of it.
“No.”
He opened his mouth.
She removed the diamond ring from her finger and placed it on the dining table.
“You told me it was an engagement ring.”
Avinash said nothing.
“You told me your wife had left you, your daughter was your niece, and the land was yours.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Tell me one thing you said that was true.”
He stared at the floor.
Then he left.
The front door closed quietly.
Somehow, that sound hurt more than if he had slammed it.
For several minutes, Yamini and I sat without speaking.
Then she whispered, “You must hate me.”
I looked at her.
“I don’t know what I feel.”
She nodded.
“I understand.”
“No,” I replied softly. “I don’t think either of us understands everything yet.”
She began crying.
I passed her a tissue.
It was a strange moment.
The woman I had imagined stealing my husband was sitting in the house I had built, crying over money she had lost to the same man.
And I realised that Avinash had not simply betrayed his marriage.
He had turned our dreams into a business.
The following morning, I called Bhaskar.
He answered cheerfully.
“Namaste, Madam! How is Sir enjoying the house?”
I closed my eyes.
“Bhaskar ji, I need you to meet my lawyer.”
Silence.
“Why, Madam?”
“Because there are payments I cannot explain.”
He cleared his throat.
“Those are company matters.”
“Which company?”
Another silence.
Then he said, “Madam, perhaps you should speak to Avinash Sir.”
I looked toward Yamini, who was sitting opposite me.
“I already have.”
Bhaskar disconnected.
That was the last time he answered my calls.
Two days later, Devyani arranged a meeting with an independent financial investigator.
Yamini brought her bank statements, contracts, and emails.
I brought every receipt I had collected.
Together, we reconstructed the money trail.
Some payments had genuinely funded construction.
Others had been sent to Triveni Infrastructure.
From there, portions had moved into several other accounts.
One belonged to a property company linked to Bhaskar.
Another was connected to Avinash.
But there was a third account.
When I saw the name, my heart nearly stopped.
Ishwari Education Trust.
My daughter’s name.
I stared at the screen.
“What is this?”
Devyani leaned forward.
“Do you recognise the entity?”
I shook my head.
“I have never heard of it.”
