Chapter 35 Chapter thirty five
DEV
The next two weeks developed a rhythm that felt almost normal, if you ignored the fact that we were being sued for two million pounds and the media documented our every move.
Aanya would work at the community centre from nine to five. I would teach classes, hold office hours, work on my dissertation when I could find time. We would meet most evenings, alternating between Priya's flat and mine. On weekends, we would navigate family dinners and legal strategy meetings and the constant pressure of knowing that Crown Estate's lawyers were building their case.
But in between all of that, we were just us. Two people learning how to be together while everything around us was falling apart.
It was on a Thursday evening, two weeks after we had officially started dating, that everything shifted.
I was at my desk at King's, trying to make progress on a chapter that was due to Professor Williams by the end of the month, when Sarah Chen called.
"Dev, I need you to come to my office. Now. Bring Aanya if you can reach her."
"What happened?"
"Crown Estate just filed their formal response to the lawsuit. It is worse than we anticipated. I need to walk you both through it before it becomes public tomorrow."
I called Aanya. She was still at the community centre, in the middle of an intake meeting.
"Can it wait an hour?" she asked.
"Sarah said now."
"Then I will be there in thirty minutes."
We arrived at Sarah's office within ten minutes of each other, both looking worried.
Sarah had papers spread across her desk. Her expression was grim.
"Sit down. Both of you. This is going to be difficult to hear."
We sat.
"Crown Estate's legal strategy is more aggressive than I expected. They are not just defending their practices. They are going on offense. Specifically, they are attacking both of your credibility in ways designed to make this as painful as possible."
She handed us each a copy of the filing. I started reading.
The first section outlined Crown Estate's position: that their development practices followed all applicable regulations, that any displacement was an unfortunate but necessary consequence of urban regeneration, that environmental standards were met or exceeded in all projects.
Standard defense. Expected.
The second section was where things got ugly.
"Dr. Marchetti's research is fatally compromised by personal bias stemming from his father's death. Lorenzo Marchetti was employed by an independent contractor, not directly by Crown Estate. The accident that resulted in his death was investigated by the Health and Safety Executive and found to be the result of contractor negligence, not Crown Estate management decisions. Dr. Marchetti has constructed a narrative of institutional wrongdoing based on selective interpretation of data designed to support his predetermined conclusion that Crown Estate was responsible for his father's death. This is not objective research. This is a son seeking revenge."
I felt sick reading it. They were attacking my father. Making his death sound like contractor negligence when I had the safety reports proving Crown Estate knew about the violations and chose not to fix them.
But it was the third section that made Aanya go pale.
"Ms. Windsor's involvement raises additional concerns about credibility and judgment. Ms. Windsor had no expertise in environmental policy, urban development, or housing law. Her statements at the Brixton Community Forum were based entirely on Dr. Marchetti's research, which she appears to have accepted without critical analysis or independent verification. The timing of her romantic relationship with Dr. Marchetti is particularly concerning. Ms. Windsor kept Dr. Marchetti's personal property (a waistcoat) after their initial encounter at the Buckingham Palace gala, suggesting romantic interest predating the forum. She then publicly validated his research despite having no professional basis for assessing its accuracy. Ms. Windsor's judgment was clearly compromised by personal attraction, making her statements unreliable and potentially defamatory."
"They are saying I validated your research because I was attracted to you," Aanya said quietly. "That I had no professional basis for my statements. That I am unreliable."
"They are saying I manipulated you," I said. "That my research is revenge, not scholarship. That my father's death was not their fault."
Sarah nodded. "This is what I expected them to argue. Character assassination designed to discredit both of you before we ever get to the actual evidence. They want to make this about your motives and judgment rather than about whether Crown Estate's practices caused harm."
"So what do we do?" Aanya asked.
"We fight back. With facts. With evidence. With testimony from the families affected by displacement. With independent expert analysis of Dev's research methodology. With documentation proving that Crown Estate knew about safety violations and chose not to address them." Sarah pulled out another file. "But I need you both to understand what this means. Crown Estate is going to make this personal. They are going to dig into every aspect of your lives. They are going to question your relationship timeline. They are going to bring up your father's death and suggest Dev has been obsessed with revenge for ten years. They are going to paint Aanya as naive and easily manipulated. And the media is going to amplify all of it."
"When does this become public?" I asked.
"They are filing it with the court tomorrow morning. By afternoon, it will be all over the news."
"So we have less than twenty-four hours before everyone knows Crown Estate is calling me a revenge-obsessed researcher with questionable methodology and calling Aanya a naive princess who validated my work because she fancied me."
"Yes."
Aanya was very quiet. I took her hand under the table.
"What do we need to do tonight?" I asked Sarah.
"Prepare statements for the media. Coordinate with the advocacy coalition. Make sure your families know what is coming so they are not blindsided. And steel yourselves for the fact that tomorrow is going to be brutal."
\---
We left Sarah's office after two hours of strategy discussion and media preparation. Outside, the evening was cold and dark. Aanya was shivering despite her coat.
"Come back to my flat," I said. "You should not be alone tonight."
"I will not be good company."
"I do not need good company. I need you."
We took the bus to Brixton in silence. The flat was empty when we arrived. Giulia was working a late shift at the hospital. Marco was at a friend's house studying. Mum was at her evening cleaning job.
The quiet felt oppressive.
"They are going to destroy us," Aanya said, sitting on the sofa bed. "They are going to make me look like an idiot who validated your research because I was romantically interested. They are going to make you look like a son seeking revenge rather than a legitimate researcher. And even if we prove them wrong eventually, the damage will be done. People will always wonder if I was manipulated. If your research was biased. If any of this was real."
"It was real. It is real. The research is solid. Your statements were accurate. What we feel for each other is real. None of that changes because Crown Estate's lawyers are good at character assassination."
"But people will believe them. The palace will use this to justify cutting me off. The university will question your credibility. Families who were going to testify might back out because they do not want to be associated with researchers whose motives are questioned."
She was not wrong. This could undermine everything.
"So we prove them wrong," I said. "We provide the evidence. We bring the expert witnesses. We show that my research has been peer-reviewed and published and stands up to scrutiny. We demonstrate that you did your own research before making your statements. We make them defend their actual practices instead of just attacking our credibility."
"And if we lose anyway?"
"Then we lose knowing we fought for the truth. That we did not back down. That we made them defend themselves publicly even if they win in court." I sat beside her, pulled her against me. "I am not giving up, Aanya. On the lawsuit. On us. On any of this. Are you?"
"No. But I am scared."
"Me too. But we are scared together. That has to count for something."
She turned her face into my shoulder. I could feel her trembling. Not from cold. From the weight of everything pressing down on both of us.
"I love you," she said, muffled against my shirt. "That is real. Whatever they say tomorrow. Whatever the media believes. I love you and that is the truest thing I know right now."
"I love you too. And we are going to survive this."
We stayed like that for a long time. Just holding each other. Trying to find some stability in the chaos.
Eventually, she pulled back enough to look at me.
"I do not want to think about tomorrow. Or the lawsuit. Or Crown Estate. Not tonight. Tonight I just want to be with you. Just us. Can we do that?"
"What do you want to do?"
"I want to forget that the world exists for a few hours. I want to not be the disgraced princess or the naive woman who validated research because of romantic feelings. I just want to be Aanya. With you. With no one else's opinions or judgments or expectations."
She kissed me. Not the gentle kisses we had been sharing for the past two weeks. This was urgent. Desperate. The kind of kiss that was trying to block out the rest of the world.
I kissed her back, understanding exactly what she needed. What we both needed.
"Are you sure?" I asked when we broke apart.
"I have never been more sure of anything."
"Aanya, we do not have to..."
"I know we do not have to. I want to. I want you. I want this. I want something that is just ours that no one can take away or question or judge." She pulled back slightly. "Unless you do not want..."
"I want. God, I want. I have wanted since the moment I caught you at the gala and you looked at me like I was the first real thing you had ever seen. I just need you to be sure. Because tomorrow is going to be hard and I do not want you to regret this."
"I will not regret this. The only thing I would regret is letting Crown Estate's lawyers dictate what we do or do not do. This is our choice. Our relationship. Our life. And I am choosing this."
She kissed me again, and I stopped asking questions.
We moved to the sofa bed, which I unfolded with hands that were not entirely steady. She helped, and for a moment the practical awkwardness of converting a sofa into a bed broke some of the tension.
"Very romantic," she said, smiling slightly.
"I did warn you that my living situation was not ideal."
"I do not care about ideal. I care about you."
We lay down together on the thin mattress. The springs creaked. The street noise from outside was audible through the single-pane windows. This was nothing like the palace suites she had grown up in.
But she was here. Choosing this. Choosing me.
I kissed her slowly, thoroughly, taking my time. Her hands found the hem of my shirt, pulled it up. I helped her remove it, then reached for hers.
"Is this all right?" I asked.
"Yes. More than all right."
We undressed each other slowly, learning each other. She was nervous but not hesitant. Uncertain but not afraid. And when I touched her, really touched her, she responded with a kind of wonder that made my chest tight.
"Tell me if you want me to stop," I said.
"I do not want you to stop. I want you to keep going. I want all of this. With you."
"I love you."
"I love you too. Show me."
So I did.