Chapter 10

** The Unmasking**

Ayesha woke the next morning feeling uneasy. The tension from Natasha’s visit lingered in the air, and the cryptic letters remained a gnawing concern. Despite Arman’s assurances, the sense that something—or someone—was working against her had only grown stronger.

She decided it was time to stop waiting for the truth to reveal itself. If she wanted answers, she would have to find them on her own.

As Ayesha sifted through the foundation’s paperwork later that morning, her attention was drawn to a document marked with a familiar name: Natasha Enterprises. It was an invoice for a consultation f*e, dated only a few weeks before Ayesha had returned to the Shah household.

Her heart sank. Why would Natasha’s company be involved in their foundation? Arman had promised he was no longer connected to her, yet here was undeniable proof of recent dealings.

Ayesha took the document to Arman immediately. She found him in the study, deep in thought over the foundation’s finances.

“Arman,” she said, placing the invoice on the desk in front of him, “what is this?”

He looked at the paper, his brow furrowing in confusion. “This... this isn’t right. I didn’t authorize this.”

“Then who did?” Ayesha asked, her voice sharp.

Arman’s expression darkened. “There’s only one other person with access to these accounts—my mother.”

Determined to confront Priya, Ayesha marched into the living room, where Priya was entertaining guests with her usual air of authority.

“Maaji,” Ayesha said firmly, interrupting the conversation, “I need to speak with you. Now.”

Priya glanced at her, clearly annoyed by the intrusion. “This isn’t the time, Ayesha. Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“It’s about Natasha,” Ayesha said, her voice unwavering. “And the foundation.”

The mention of Natasha caused Priya’s expression to harden, and she excused herself from the guests. She followed Ayesha to the study, where Arman was waiting.

“What is this about?” Priya asked coldly.

Ayesha handed her the invoice. “Care to explain how Natasha’s company is connected to our foundation?”

Priya barely glanced at the document before shrugging. “I approved the consultation. It was a simple business decision.”

“Without consulting us?” Arman asked, his voice rising. “This is our project, Maa. You had no right to involve Natasha.”

“Your project?” Priya scoffed. “This family’s name and reputation are tied to that foundation. I have every right to ensure its success, and Natasha is a capable consultant.”

“She’s not part of this family anymore,” Ayesha snapped. “And she has no place in our lives.”

Priya’s expression turned icy. “You forget yourself, Ayesha. You may have won Arman’s favor, but don’t think for a moment that you can dictate how this family operates.”

The confrontation left the household in disarray. Arman, furious with his mother’s interference, spent the evening in his office, while Ayesha retreated to her room, struggling to process everything.

Later that night, as she prepared for bed, another letter appeared under her door. This one was more direct than the others:

“Your fight isn’t with Natasha. Look closer to home. Someone else stands to lose everything if you succeed.”

Ayesha stared at the note, her heart pounding. What did it mean? And who was behind these warnings?

Determined to uncover the truth, Ayesha decided to investigate further. She remembered that Priya often kept important files locked in a cabinet in the study. Late that night, when the house was silent, Ayesha crept downstairs and picked the lock.

Inside, she found a stack of documents detailing secret transactions—funds funneled to Natasha’s boutique, payments to unknown parties, and one particularly damning file outlining Priya’s plan to undermine the foundation entirely.

At the bottom of the pile was a letter addressed to a familiar name: her father.

Ayesha’s blood ran cold as she read the contents. Priya had been blackmailing her father long before the marriage arrangement, using his debts as leverage to manipulate both families. The marriage had been a calculated move to secure control—not a solution to the family’s problems, as she had believed.

The following morning, Ayesha confronted Priya with the documents in hand. “I know what you’ve done,” she said, her voice steady despite the anger boiling inside her.

Priya’s eyes narrowed. “And what exactly do you think you know?”

“I know you blackmailed my father. I know you’ve been funding Natasha to keep her in our lives. And I know you’ve been trying to sabotage the foundation to maintain your control over Arman.”

Priya’s composure faltered, but only briefly. “You’ve overstepped, Ayesha. You have no idea what it takes to protect this family’s legacy.”

“This isn’t about the family,” Ayesha shot back. “It’s about your pride. You’re willing to destroy everything just to keep your power.”

At that moment, Arman entered the room, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern. “What’s going on?”

Ayesha turned to him, holding out the documents. “The truth, Arman. Your mother has been manipulating all of us. She’s been working with Natasha and blackmailing my family from the start.”

Arman took the papers, his face darkening as he read them. When he looked up at his mother, his voice was cold. “Is this true?”

Priya didn’t deny it. “Everything I’ve done has been for this family,” she said stiffly.

“No,” Arman said firmly. “You’ve done it for yourself. And it ends now.”

The confrontation marked a turning point in the household. Priya, stripped of her influence, retreated to the background, while Arman and Ayesha took full control of the foundation and their future.

Though the scars of betrayal remained, Ayesha felt stronger than ever. She had faced the truth, reclaimed her agency, and found a partner in Arman who was willing to stand by her side.

As they stood together at the foundation’s launch event a few weeks later, Ayesha looked out at the crowd and felt a sense of peace. She had fought for her place, and now, it was truly hers.

The past would always be part of her story, but it no longer defined her.

Priya’s fall from grace rippled through the household. Once the unquestioned matriarch, she now faced the consequences of her actions. Her sharp remarks and cold demeanor persisted, but they carried less weight. The staff, who had always feared her, seemed to defer more readily to Ayesha. Even Rupa commented one day, “The house feels different now, Bhabhi-ji. Like it finally belongs to you.”

But Ayesha knew the battle wasn’t entirely over. Trust was fragile, especially with Arman, who now carried the burden of his mother’s betrayal.

One evening, as they sat together in the garden, Arman broke the silence. “I can’t believe she did all of this. The manipulation, the lies... She was always so proud of our family’s reputation, but now I see how much of it was built on control.”

Ayesha placed a hand on his. “It’s not easy to face the truth about someone you’ve always trusted,” she said gently. “But now we have the chance to rebuild—not just for us, but for everyone who depends on us.”

Arman nodded, his expression softening. “You’re right. And I’m done letting her dictate our lives. From now on, we make the decisions—together.”

A few days later, Arman surprised Ayesha with a thoughtful gesture. He had the staff redecorate one of the smaller sitting rooms, transforming it into a personal workspace for her. The room was filled with warm, vibrant colors, a small library, and a desk overlooking the garden.

“It’s yours,” Arman said when he showed her the room. “A place where you can write, work, or just be yourself.”

Ayesha felt a lump rise in her throat. “Thank you,” she said softly.

For the first time, she felt like she truly belonged—not as someone else’s wife or daughter-in-law, but as herself.