The Legal Cover Drive

Wrong Handle, Right Person

The ceiling fans of Mumbai's International Airport terminal hummed, but the noise was entirely drowned out by the click-clack of Jasmeet's premium heels stepping across the polished floor.

Adjusting her Bluetooth earpiece, she checked her wristwatch, her expression sharp and completely business-focused. On her right side, her luxury black suitcase rolled smoothly beside her.

"Listen, Riya," Jasmeet spoke into the call, her voice firm and authoritative. "I don't care what excuses the defense team is making. Tell them that if the compliance papers aren't on my desk by tomorrow morning, I am dragging their client straight to the High Court. Mujhe bilkul faltu ke bahaane nahi chahiye. Understood?"

Listening closely to Riya's panicked reply on the other end, Jasmeet sighed, pausing right next to a premium cafe lounge to grab a bottle of water. She set her identical luxury black suitcase down right next to the railing. "Just coordinate with Kanak and Naina. Have them pull up the previous year's corporate precedents. I will be in the South Mumbai office within an hour."

Just ten feet away, a small commotion was brewing.

Shreyas Iyer was walking out of the private VIP exit lane, a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes and a towel casually draped around his neck. Surrounding him was his personal manager, who was frantically checking emails on a tablet, and three hefty private bouncers who were subtly keeping a small crowd of eager fans and airport staff at a distance. He had just landed from an exhausting domestic training camp, and his mind was completely fried.

"Yeah, Ishan, we just landed," Shreyas muttered into his own phone, completely distracted as he approached the cafe lounge area. "Haan yaar, bohot lambi flight thi. I am exhausted. Abhi stadium hi aa raha hoon directly. Are Abhishek and the rest of the guys already in the nets?"

Listening to Ishan's reply, Shreyas nodded, his manager stepping up to show him a quick schedule update on the tablet. Without looking down, Shreyas reached out, his hand wrapping firmly around the handle of a luxury black suitcase standing by the lounge railing. He turned to walk toward the main exit gates, his manager and bouncers moving in sync with him.

Jasmeet's sharp eyes darted down. Her suitcase was gone.

She looked up instantly, tracking the movement, and saw a tall athlete in a cap walking away with her exact luggage, flanked by his manager and security. Her eyes narrowed into slits. Disconnecting the call without a second thought, she marched forward like a prosecutor entering a courtroom.

"Excuse me!" Jasmeet's voice rang out, clear, loud, and absolutely freezing.

Shreyas didn't even turn around, assuming it was just another fan yelling his name for a selfie. His manager glanced back briefly but kept walking, and the bouncers subtly stepped behind Shreyas to block the path.

"Hey! Blue cap! I am talking to you," Jasmeet snapped, stepping right past the bouncers with an authoritative glare that actually made the security men hesitate. She reached out and firmly snatched the handle of the suitcase right out of Shreyas's grip.

Shreyas stopped dead in his tracks. He blinked in utter shock, looking at his empty hand, and then turned around to face the woman who had just boldly cut through his security. His manager stopped beside him, eyes wide.

"What the hell?" Shreyas scowled, pulling off his sunglasses. "Aapko koi problem hai kya? Why did you just snatch my bag?"

Jasmeet let out a cold, mocking laugh, her arms crossing tightly over her blazer. "My problem, Mr. Entitled, is that you are casually walking away with my property. Yeh suitcase mera hai. Do you understand the concept of theft, or do celebrity privileges cover stealing now?"

Shreyas's competitive ego instantly flared up. He looked down at the identical black luxury suitcase, then looked back at her with a highly annoyed expression. He knew exactly who he was, and he wasn't used to being scolded like a naughty schoolboy in public right in front of his team.

"Listen, Ms. Drama Queen, look at the bag. It's an identical model," Shreyas fired back, his voice dripping with irritation as he pointed at the luggage. "Galti se haath lag gaya hoga. There's no need to make such a massive public scene. Calm down."

"Calm down?" Jasmeet stepped a fraction closer, completely unfazed by his height, his manager, or his glaring bouncers. "First of all, don't tell me to calm down. Second, it didn't galti se haath lag gaya. You were literally wheeling it toward the exit gates. If you spent half as much time looking at your surroundings as you do looking at your own reflection, you'd see your own bag is sitting right over there by the cafe pillar!"

Shreyas glanced over his shoulder. His manager quickly checked the cafe area and cleared his throat awkwardly. Sure enough, Shreyas's actual identical black luxury suitcase was standing entirely abandoned by the pillar.

A flush of embarrassment hit his cheeks, but looking at Jasmeet's fiercely arrogant, victorious smirk, his apology died instantly in his throat. His jaw tensed.

"Fine. It was a mistake," Shreyas said through gritted teeth, stepping back and snatching his sunglasses back onto his face. "But your attitude is completely unnecessary. Sikhaya nahi hai kya kisi ne manners se baat karna? You don't just go around yelling at people."

"My attitude is strictly reserved for people who think their status lets them touch other people's things without looking," Jasmeet replied smoothly, her voice a dangerous, quiet purr as she pulled her suitcase close to her side. "Learn to handle your own luggage, Mr. Iyer. Because next time, I won't just take my bag back-I'll slap a legal notice for public nuisance so fast your head will spin."

Shreyas's jaw dropped slightly in sheer disbelief. His manager quickly stepped in, whispering, "Shreyas, let it go, media mil jayegi outside."

Shreyas aggressively turned around to grab his actual suitcase. "Kahan se aate hain yeh log..." he muttered under his breath.

"And you are entirely careless," Jasmeet shot back one last time, completely turning her back on him. She adjusted her blazer, took a deep breath to control her racing temper, and walked toward the exit gates without looking back even once.

Shreyas stood by the pillar, his fingers gripping his suitcase handle so tightly his knuckles turned white. He watched her retreating figure vanish into the Mumbai crowd.

"Who does she think she is?" Shreyas muttered to his manager, his ego completely bruised and battered. "Kitni arrogant ladki hai yaar. If I ever see her face again, it will be too soon."