[ This Book is under editing]
Niharika Verma is a stunning semi-classical dancer who wants nothing more than to travel the world, but the shackles of her dreadful past keep her grounded. On the other end, Asia's well-known businessman and CEO of Ra...
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Shaurya, Vivaan, Anand Ji, and Akash Ji stood outside the police station when Anand Ji asked, “Shaurya, are you sure this plan will work?”
“Two hundred percent sure, uncle,” Shaurya replied, a wicked smile playing on his lips.
They entered the police station, where Anand Ji spoke with the inspector, explaining their plan. The Rajvanshi family was powerful, and the inspector knew better than to refuse them.
Inside an interrogation room, the culprit who had framed Niharika sat in a chair. Anand Ji took the seat opposite him, their gazes locked in an unspoken challenge.
“I hope you understand why I’m here,” Anand Ji said coldly.
The man smirked. “Yes, sir, but there was no need for this visit. I already told the inspector everything—it’s recorded.”
Anand Ji leaned back, voice dangerously calm. “I know. But I came to hear only the truth. The real truth. And I’ve got two options for you.”
The man raised a brow. “Are you threatening me inside a police station, sir?”
Anand Ji chuckled darkly. “If I wanted, I could have you buried in this very lockup. But I have a better idea.”
For the first time, a flicker of unease crossed the culprit’s face. “What do you want?”
Anand Ji placed a briefcase on the table and flipped it open—stacks of crisp ₹500 notes gleamed under the dim light. “Option one,” he said smoothly.
The culprit’s eyes widened.
“And option two…” Anand Ji slid his phone across the table. The screen played a video—his wife and his young child, bound to chairs, their eyes filled with terror.
His face drained of color. Instinctively, he tried to stand, but Shaurya and Vivaan placed firm hands on his shoulders, forcing him back into the chair.
“What do you want?” he rasped.
“The truth,” Anand Ji repeated. “Who told you to frame Niharika?”
The man swallowed hard before speaking. “A woman hired us…” His voice trembled.
Everyone stiffened.
“She threatened a man, he was a detective gired by Mr. Rajvanshi for some of his personal work, and made him provide false evidence against your daughter-in-law,” the culprit continued.
Shaurya’s jaw clenched. “Who was she? Her name, her face?”
“She wore a mask. We don’t know her name. She found us because we… specialize in these kinds of jobs,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Shaurya’s fist flew, landing a brutal punch across the man’s face. “Fucking bastard! You didn’t even think about the girls you tried to hurt?” He grabbed the man’s collar. “I should kill you right now.”
Before he could strike again, the police inspector intervened, pulling Shaurya back. . . . . Maanveer was driving to the police station when his phone rang. It was his P.A After a brief conversation, he changed course and headed to his office.
As he stepped inside his cabin, his eyes fell on a man standing weakly in the center of the room—his clothes torn, blood dripping from his forehead and mouth. His body bore the signs of brutal, prolonged torture.
It was Detective. The same man who had given him the false evidence.
Maanveer froze in shock. “Arun?”
Aman swayed on his feet. Maanveer rushed forward, helping him sit. “You need a doctor,” he said, reaching for his phone.
Detective's weak fingers clutched his wrist. “No, sir. There’s no po...point.”
“But Arun, look at your condition—”
“I have no reason to live,” He whispered, eyes hollow with grief.
Maanveer’s brows furrowed. “What the hell are you saying? If someone did this to you, tell me. I’ll fix it.”
He let out a broken laugh. “It’s too late, sir. You can’t do anything. If you try, they’ll kill me too—just like they killed my family.”
Maanveer stiffened. “What happened to your family?”
Tears welled in Arun’s eyes. “Yesterday… they kidnapped me. They threatened to kill my wife and daughter if I didn’t give you false information about your wife.” His voice cracked. “I did what they asked, but they still killed them.” His body trembled with sobs. “They killed my wife… my seven-year-old daughter…”
Maanveer’s stomach twisted.
Arun wiped his face and continued, “Yesterday, when I came to meet you, they sent a man with me. I introduced him as my brother. Once inside your private room, he used your phone to call someone from your family and fed her lies. Then he deleted the number, covering his tracks. They made sure everything pointed at Mrs. Rajvanshi.”
Maanveer felt the blood drain from his face.
Arun’s breathing grew ragged. “Now… I have no one left. I know they’ll come for me too. But I won’t die with regret. That’s why I somehow escaped and came here.”
His body convulsed, and he collapsed to the ground, struggling to breathe.
Maanveer knelt beside him. “Who did this, Arun? Tell me!”
His lips barely moved. “I… don’t know. She wore a mask…”
His eyes rolled back as unconsciousness took over.
