Chapter 11- Chaos Begins

NEXT DAY

Yash sat on the couch, his head leaning back as Ishika paced back and forth in front of him. Her frustration was palpable, and she wasn’t holding back.

"You’re seriously useless, Yash Singhania" Ishika snapped, throwing her hands in the air. "How exactly are you planning to help me if all you’re doing is sitting there looking smug?"

Yash tilted his head, barely glancing at her. "First of all, I’m not smug. Second, your pacing is giving me a headache. Sit down."

"Sit down?" Ishika looked at him like he’d lost his mind. "I’m accused of murder, and you’re telling me to sit down? Great plan, Detective Yash."

Yash finally sat up, looking directly at her. "Fine. You want a plan? Call Tara. She’s your best friend, right? Bring her here. I’ll call Dhruv. At least he’s sane."

Ishika stopped pacing and stared at him. "Sane? Dhruv? Are you serious? That guy is more dramatic than a Bollywood hero."

Yash ignored her jab and pulled out his phone, dialing Dhruv.

"Dhruv, I need you at my house" Yash said, his tone clipped and to the point.

"Wow, no pleasantries. What happened now? Did you and your favorite rival kill each other yet?" Dhruv asked, laughing.

"Just get here, Dhruv. I’ll send you the address," Yash said before hanging up.

"Tara, I need you to come to Yash’s house" Ishika said quickly.

Tara’s voice was skeptical. "Wait, you’re at his house? What, are you two teaming up now? Should I be worried?"

"It’s not like that. Just come, okay? And don’t be late," Ishika said before ending the call.

━━༻❁༺━━

After some time, Yash and Ishika waited in the living room. Yash stood by the window, arms crossed, while Ishika sat on the couch, tapping her foot impatiently.

The doorbell rang. Yash opened it to find Dhruv leaning against the doorframe with a smirk.

"Bhai, what’s the emergency? Did your great rival finally break you?"

Dhruv asked, stepping inside.
Before Yash could respond, a loud knock came from the other door. Ishika opened it to see Tara walking in with an exasperated expression.

"Alright, I’m here. What’s so important that you dragged me into enemy territory?" Tara said, glaring at Yash.

Before Ishika could respond, Dhruv turned toward Tara and groaned. "Oh, great. You’re here. Because that’s what we needed right now."

Tara crossed her arms. "And what’s that supposed to mean, Drama King?"

"It means you being here just doubled the chaos," Dhruv shot back.

Tara rolled her eyes. "You act like you’re some peaceful monk. Please, you live for the drama."

"At least I’m not nosy," Dhruv countered.

"Enough!" Ishika shouted, throwing up her hands. "Are you two here to help or to fight? Because I can handle this without either of you."

Yash, who had been silently watching the chaos, finally spoke up. "Let me make one thing clear. If you two don’t stop bickering, I’m kicking you both out."

Dhruv smirked. "Big words from someone who called me for help."

Tara snorted. "And someone who apparently has my best friend living in his house. Suspicious, isn’t it?"

Yash sighed and turned to Ishika.
"Why did you call her again?"

"Why did you call Dhruv?" Ishika retorted.

"Because at least he doesn’t ask idiotic questions," Yash shot back.

"Excuse me?!" Tara and Dhruv said at the same time.

Ishika pinched the bridge of her nose. "This is going to be a nightmare."

Yash leaned back, arms crossed. "Welcome to my life."

━━༻❁༺━━

Yash stood near the window, his sharp gaze fixed on the reporters crowding outside his mansion’s gate. Ishika sat on the couch, her arms crossed, looking visibly annoyed. Dhruv and Tara were casually sitting across from each other, exchanging glares.

“This is insane” Ishika said, breaking the silence. “Why are they even here? Can’t they find someone else to harass?”

“Welcome to being infamous,” Yash replied dryly. “Get used to it. This is just the beginning.”

Before anyone could respond, a loud commotion erupted outside. Reporters had somehow made their way past the gates and were banging on the main door, shouting questions.

Yash’s jaw tightened. “Dhruv, open the door. Let’s get this over with.”

Dhruv looked at him incredulously. “Are you serious? You’re inviting them in? Are you feeling okay?”

“They’re not leaving until they get something,” Yash said, walking toward the door. “Might as well control the narrative.”

Ishika stood up, alarmed. “Wait, what narrative? Don’t say anything stupid, Yash.”

“I don’t do stupid,” Yash said over his shoulder.

Dhruv muttered under his breath, “Isse bada jhooth maine aaj tak nhi suna”

━━༻❁༺━━

As soon as Yash opened the door, a flood of reporters poured in, microphones shoved toward him.

“Mr. Singhania, is it true you’re harboring Ishika Sehgal, the prime suspect in Mr. Mehta’s murder?”

“What’s your relationship with Ms. Sehgal? Are you protecting her because of personal reasons?”

“Does this mean the rivalry between you two was just a cover for a no-name relationship?”

Yash raised a hand, silencing the crowd. His face was calm, his tone sharp. “Enough.”

The room fell silent, all eyes on him.
“Ishika Sehgal is innocent. And before any of you try to spin this into something it’s not…” He paused, glancing briefly at Ishika, who looked completely bewildered.

“Biwi hai meri. She's my wife.”

The room erupted into chaos. Cameras flashed, reporters shouted over each other, trying to get more details.

“Wife? When did this happen?”
“Was this a secret wedding?”
“Does this mean you’ve been lying to the public all along?”

Ishika stood frozen, her eyes wide in disbelief. “Excuse me?!” she whispered, but her voice was drowned out by the chaos.

Yash clapped his hands once, startling everyone. “That’s all you’re getting. Now leave.”

When the reporters hesitated, Yash’s voice dropped to a deadly calm. “I said, leave.”

Reluctantly, the media began filing out, murmuring amongst themselves. Once the door was slammed shut, silence enveloped the room.

INSIDE THE MANSION

Tara was the first to break the silence, staring at Yash like he’d grown two heads. “What. The. Hell. Did I just witness?”

Dhruv, who had been drinking water, spat it out in shock, accidentally spraying Tara’s face.

“Seriously?!” Tara shrieked, wiping her face with her sleeve. “Are you insane?”

“Are you insane?!” Dhruv countered, coughing. “What did you just say, Yash? Wife? WIFE? Bhai pee wee kar toh nhi aaya hai na!?”

Yash rolled his eyes, walking back to the couch. “It was the quickest way to shut them up.”

Ishika, who was still processing, finally found her voice. “Quickest way? You could’ve said anything! Anything but that!”

Dhruv threw up his hands. “Exactly! Behen hi bol deta! Biwi kyu bola?!”

Yash turned to him, glaring. “Behen? Are you out of your mind?”

Tara smirked. “What’s wrong with ‘behen’? Huh? Why not?”

Yash stuttered for a moment, searching for an answer. “A-a-aisi behen nhi chahiye mujhe!”

Dhruv burst out laughing. “But a wife like her is fine?”

Yash shot him a deadly glare. “What I said was to get the media off our backs. Don’t read into it.”

Tara folded her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Mai bta rhi hu yeh asli Yash hai hi nhi! Pakka behrupiya hai!—”

“Enough!” Yash interrupted, exasperated. “We have bigger problems. Focus on finding the real culprit. Forget about the nonsense I said to the media.”

Ishika, still fuming, crossed her arms. “Forget it? You just told the entire world we’re married! Do you have any idea how this complicates things for me?”

Yash leaned back, unfazed. “Oh, trust me, it complicates things for me more.”

Ishika glared at him. “If marrying you was the last option on earth, I’d rather jump into a well!”

Yash smirked, his calm tone infuriating her further. “Like I’m dying to marry you. Newsflash, Ishika, you’re not exactly my dream girl either.”

Tara clapped her hands together. “This is better than a soap opera. Please, continue.”

Dhruv grinned. “Popcorn, anyone?”

Yash groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why did I think calling you two was a good idea?”

Ishika rolled her eyes, throwing a cushion at Yash. “Next time, keep me out of your brilliant plans!”

Yash caught the cushion effortlessly. “Next time, don’t invite chaos into my house.”

Dhruv smirked, leaning back. “Too late. Chaos is already here, and it’s not leaving anytime soon.”

Yash and Dhruv left for the company while Ishika and Tara sat down, discussing everything and how they could catch the actual culprit.

━━༻❁༺━━

NIGHT TIME

Later that night, the group gathered around the dinner table, eating in silence after a long day. The mood was unexpectedly calm, until Yash's phone rang. His friends were calling, one after another, clearly eager for the latest scoop.

Friend 1 (on phone): "Bro, did you get married or something? Is this true?"

Yash sighed, holding the phone to his ear. "Yeah, man. Got married."

Friend 1: "Wait, seriously? How the hell did that happen?"

Yash muttered, trying to hide his frustration. "Just happened, bro. Deal with it."

He hung up, only for his phone to ring again.

Friend 2 (on phone): "Bro, I heard some crazy stuff! Did you actually get married?"

Yash rubbed his temples. "Yes, I got married. Can we move on?"

The cycle continued as more friends called, asking the same thing, Yash responding with increasing annoyance.

After the fourth call, he finally snapped.

Friend 5 (on phone): "Yash, bro, what’s going on? Tune shaadi krli?!" (You got married?)

Yash exhaled dramatically, leaning back in his chair. "Haan, bhai! Shaadi karli, meri 2 bacche bhi hain. Unki shaadi karne ke liye ladki dhund raha hoon. Laake dega tu?"

(Yes I got married! I even have two kids! I'm looking for girls to get them married, will you find 'em for me?)

There was a beat of stunned silence on the other end of the line before laughter erupted from all his friends.

Ishika, who had been listening to all of this with an amused look on her face, finally spoke up, unable to contain her laughter. "Serves you right, Yash."

Yash shot her a glare. "You’re enjoying this way too much."

Ishika just smiled, taking a bite of her food. "I love a good drama. It’s what makes life interesting."

Dhruv, who had been quietly watching the exchange, joined in.

"Bro, you sure you’re not looking for a third kid, though? I mean, Ishika's already got you wrapped around her finger, might as well make it official."

Yash gave him a glare but didn't say anything. Tara, who had been giggling the entire time, added, "I’m just waiting for the day someone asks if you’re planning to adopt one of us too. You never know with you, Yash."

The whole table burst into laughter, and for the first time in a while, Yash found himself laughing along with them.

━━༻❁༺━━

MEANWHILE

The room was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a desk lamp casting a soft glow over a large, polished white checkerboard. The air was thick with tension, the kind that came from weeks of mounting pressure, endless possibilities, and a case that seemed to slip further from his grasp with each passing day.

ACP Amar stood in front of the board, his sharp gaze fixated on the pieces laid out before him. Each photo, each name pinned across the squares, represented someone involved in the murder of Mr. Mehta. His fingers hovered over the photographs, pausing momentarily at each one as if he were mentally weighing the situation.

At the center of the board, right in the middle, was Ishika's photo—her face stern, eyes sharp, but also carrying an undeniable vulnerability that struck him. The connection she had to the case, no matter how circumstantial, was undeniable. He needed to figure out the truth, and fast.

Around her photo were the faces of everyone who had crossed paths with her, their lives now tangled in this web of suspicion and deceit.

Yash – His photo was placed just to the left of Ishika, his dark eyes holding an air of mystery. What was his true role in all of this? Was he just a mere bystander, or was there more to him than met the eye?

Then, there was Dhruv – his best friend, always by his side. What did he know? Was he an ally, or was there something he wasn’t telling?

The others, too, were represented. Each of their faces—Tara, the sharp-tongued but seemingly innocent confidante; Mr. Mehta’s business rivals; those with motives; and the silent suspects who had yet to make their move.

Amar’s fingers gently traced the lines connecting the photos. Each thread symbolized a potential link, a possible clue he hadn’t yet uncovered. He could sense the complexities at play here, but one thing was certain: Ishika was at the core of everything.

“Ishika... why does everything keep pointing back to you?” he muttered under his breath.

He straightened up, his mind working rapidly as he observed the positions of the pieces. He needed to understand the dynamic between Ishika and the others. Especially Yash—why was he so adamant about protecting her? Was it just loyalty, or was there something deeper beneath the surface?

The question burned in his mind. He wasn’t ready to make any conclusions yet, but he could sense that this was no ordinary murder. It was more than just a crime. It was a puzzle. A puzzle he needed to solve before things got worse.

━━༻❁༺━━

NEXT MORNING

YASH'S ROOM

The morning sunlight filtered through the window, casting a soft glow on the room. The air was thick with the aftermath of last night’s chaos, and in the midst of it all, Yash and Dhruv were passed out on Yash’s bed. Both had crashed after a long, exhausting day of dealing with media madness and ridiculous questions.

Yash, as usual, was completely covered in his blanket—head to toe, cocooned like a mummy. Dhruv was the first to wake up, his eyes squinting against the light. He groggily reached for his phone, and as it buzzed, he fumbled for it.

“Who’s calling this early?” he muttered, barely awake.
The voice on the other side of the phone was clear and direct.

“We’re coming to the Singhania mansion in a little while.”

Dhruv’s eyes flew open, wide with panic. He sat up straight, his voice filled with urgency. “WHAT?!”

The voice on the other end didn’t seem to register his alarm. “Yes. Any problem?”

Dhruv quickly composed himself, his heart racing. “No, no! No problem at all,” he replied, trying to act cool but failing miserably. The call ended.

He turned to Yash, who was still fast asleep. Dhruv shook him, but Yash remained motionless, his body completely covered with the blanket.

“Yash!” Dhruv said, shaking him harder. “Yash, wake up!”

Nothing. Yash wasn’t moving.

Annoyed but still half-sleepy, Dhruv decided to do what any best friend would do in this situation—he yanked the blanket off Yash’s face. But to his horror, what he saw wasn’t Yash’s face... it was his legs!

“AAA! TERE FACE KI JAGAH TERE LEGS HAI TU ULTA HOGYA YASH!”

Dhruv screamed, genuinely freaking out.

Yash groaned, his eyes still closed. “Abe, main ulta soya hoon,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by the pillow.

Dhruv, still in shock, quickly said, “Yash kaand hogya!”

Yash slowly opened one eye, clearly not fully awake yet. “Kya hua?” he asked groggily.

“Dadi aa rahi hai thodi der mein!” Dhruv said, panic clearly evident in his voice.

Yash, not quite understanding, responded lazily, “Par teri dadi toh mar chuki hai.”

Dhruv looked at him like he had lost his mind. “Par teri toh zinda hai na!”

Yash, still half asleep snapped, “Toh tu adopt karle”

Dhruv groaned and facepalmed.

“Yash, aunty aur dadi aa rahi hain Singhania mansion thodi der mein!”

Yash’s eyes widened as the reality hit him. He shot up, his brain finally processing the words.

“HEIN?? KYU, KAISE, KIS LIYE?” he stammered, now completely awake and in full panic mode.

“Jo Internet pe shaadi ki thi na, wahi sun kar aa rahi hai bahu se milne,” Dhruv said, trying to explain, but failing to mask the urgency in his voice.

Yash's head fell back onto the pillow. “Lag gaye mere...” he muttered, feeling the weight of his situation.
Dhruv jumped out of bed.

“Uth jaa! Ishika ko utha aur intezaam kar, kyunki tujhe bhi pata hai dadi kitni religious hai.”

Yash groaned and kept his hand on his forehead. “Yash, tu toh giyo...” he muttered to himself, realizing he was in serious trouble.

━━༻❁༺━━

LIVING ROOM

The chaos of the morning still lingered as everyone gathered in the living room. Yash, looking as if he’d just survived a war, sat on the couch, his hands rubbing his temples as he tried to make sense of the mess he’d gotten himself into.

Dhruv leaned against the doorframe, looking equally as tired, while Tara stood with her arms crossed, clearly irritated with the whole situation.

Yash suddenly looked up and declared with the confidence of someone trying to salvage the most awkward situation ever, “Sindoor aur mangalsutra lao!”

Dhruv raised an eyebrow. “Kaunsa rudra?”

Tara, not missing a beat, added, “Idiot. Mangalsutra.”

Yash ignored them and gestured to the guard. Moments later, the guard came in with the mangalsutra and a small container of sindoor.

Yash turned to Ishika, his face stern, “Idhar aao, main pehena du.”

Ishika rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Kisi ke bhi haath se main mangalsutra nahi pehen rahi,” she said, crossing her arms.

Yash’s frustration was mounting, but he wasn’t about to lose this battle. “I’m literally the Yash Singhania, you know.”

But Ishika still refused. “Yeah, well, I don’t care.”

With a sigh, Yash handed the mangalsutra to Dhruv. “Bhai, tu hi pehena de.”

Dhruv glanced at him, a bit surprised. But before he could even reach for it, Tara, fed up with the entire charade, snatched it out of his hands. “Fine! I’ll do it.”

Tara marched up to Ishika and forced the mangalsutra around her neck with an exaggerated flourish.

As Ishika was about to fill her partition with the sindoor, Dhruv, ever the one to ruin a serious moment, asked in a sarcastic tone, “Iske jagah red jam ya water color nahi laga sakte kya?”

Before anyone could reply, everyone around him chorused in unison, “SHUT UP DHRUV!”

Ishika was now beyond irritated. “I don’t understand what was the need to create this chaos.”

Yash, trying to salvage what was left of his dignity, quickly added, “I did that to make them shut up and stop degrading your character. They were saying stupid things about you, I had to shut them up.”

He paused for a second, realizing what he had just said. He tried to cover up quickly. “I mean, they were ruining my name too, so I had to—” He trailed off, embarrassed.

Ishika looked at him, clearly unimpressed. “Right.”

Yash cleared his throat and tried to shift the focus. “Now listen to me, behave like a real wife. Dadi might suspect something, and we can’t have that.”

Just then, the door opened, and in walked Yash’s mother, followed by his grandmother, Dadi. Yash’s face lit up as he hurried over and gave them both a warm hug.

“Billu!” Dadi scolded him, but it was all in good humor. She gently pushed him away, while his mother smiled and patted his cheek.

Yash groaned and turned to his friends. “Yeah, yeah. Billu. I’ve heard it my whole life.”

Ishika, unsure how to handle this new twist, stood still, trying to process what was happening.

Dadi and his mother turned to her, their expressions softening. Dadi immediately began to shower Ishika with affection, completely ignoring Yash as she cupped Ishika’s face lovingly.

“You’re so beautiful, beta! I’m so happy my Billu found someone like you.” Dadi cooed, completely oblivious to the tension in the room.

Yash, feeling completely abandoned, groaned again and slumped against the wall. “yeh kya ho raha hai?”

Ishika smiled awkwardly, a little stunned by their warmth. She touched their feet as a sign of respect, but both of them quickly pulled her into a hug, laughing as they did.

“And how is my son treating you, huh? Not making you work too much?” Yash’s mother asked with a teasing smile.

Ishika could only look at Yash for help, but he just stood there, defeated.

“Billu!” Dadi called again, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “You were always a little troublemaker. Always too busy running around and causing chaos.”

Ishika blinked, confused. “Billu?”

Yash’s face turned bright red. “Uh, yeah… my childhood nickname” he mumbled, wishing the floor would just open up and swallow him whole.

Dhruv couldn’t resist. “Aisi bilkul bhi koi feeling nahi thi, Yash?”

Tara burst into laughter, and even Ishika couldn't suppress a grin. “Well, that’s new information!” she said, her sarcasm not lost on anyone.

Yash stood there, watching as his mother and Dadi fawned over Ishika like she was their long-lost daughter. Meanwhile, he was left standing in the corner, feeling like the third wheel in his own life.

His mind raced, but the only coherent thought that came through was, "I am officially doomed."

Ishika, looking so unbothered by the whole “family chaos” routine, was trying to navigate the affection being thrown her way. Dadi’s grip on her was tight, like she wasn’t ready to let go, while his mom kept murmuring how happy she was that Yash had found someone “perfect.”

Perfect? He was still trying to figure out how to survive this mess.

And then there was the nickname Billu. A nickname Yash hadn't heard in years. A nickname that his grandmother would still use without any shame.

"I hate my life" he thought with a sigh.
He shot a quick glance at Ishika, who was clearly uncomfortable but still handling it like a pro.

Yash thought about what he'd just said to her—behave like a real wife. He grimaced. "God, I’m really going to have to live through this nightmare, aren’t I?"

Then, as if on cue, his mom winked at him mischievously. “So, Yash, when are you two planning the next family event? Hmmm?”

Yash closed his eyes for a second, wishing he could teleport to anywhere but here.

This is going to be a long, long ride, he thought.

As he straightened up, he muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for anyone to hear, "I swear, if anyone else calls me Billu today, I’ll flip this house upside down."