The Mehra mansion was on fire.
Not literally — but in the way that powerful families burn when their secrets become hashtags.
#JusticeForKalyani#EveryoneDeservesBetter#BoycottMehraIndustries
Their PR team was choking.
Their business partners were distancing.Their stock prices dipped by 3.6%.And in every corner of the internet, one face kept showing up.
Mine.
Kabir Mehra, the one who'd personally tossed my suitcase down the marble stairs, posted a photo that evening.
Black-and-white. Hands pressed together.Caption: "We all make mistakes. I'm human too."
The comments were brutal.
"You weren't human when you humiliated her.""Too late, pretty boy.""Why is this caption more edited than your apology?"
Even their fans had turned.
Because when the world decides to switch sides… it doesn't whisper.It roars.
Aryan Mehra tried a different strategy.
An exclusive interview.
Slick hair, suit and tie, remorse in his eyes.
"We didn't know how deeply she had impacted the people around her. Kalyani is strong, yes. But she's also… ours. She always will be."
I nearly laughed.
Ours?
As if I was a thing they could toss and then reattach.A name on a contract.A product to rebrand.
Their downfall wasn't dramatic.It was worse.
It was slow.And public.
Brands began to pull sponsorships.Journalists started asking hard questions.
And Privè?They dropped a second billboard.
This time, with a quote from me.
"You don't need a surname to make an empire. You just need to remember who you were before they tried to rewrite you."
That night, I received a text.
From an unknown number.
Rajvir Mehra:"Come home. Let's talk."
I stared at it for a while.
Then pressed delete.
Because I wasn't going home.
I was building one of my own.