Hello guys, before you start the chapter, please note two things.

First:

The time difference between the two situations is important.

Radhya and Krishnansh’s chaotic event is happening in the evening.

Otherside

Aarav’s storyline is taking place at a completely different time, around midnight.

********************

Just a few kilometers away from Sahar Cargo Terminal Road, where planes roared overhead and the night air carried the faint scent of aviation fuel, stood a sprawling farmhouse-Karmore Estate, owned by a well-known politician whose wealth spoke louder than his public morality.

The farmhouse glowed with yellow, golden, and dim red lights-an after-party ambience that rose above the silence of the outskirts. Inside, the smell of alcohol, smoke, and expensive attars clung to the air like humidity before a storm.

A group of middle-aged politicians and businessmen lounged on plush sofas, drinking as if sunrise would never come. Loud laughter, vulgar jokes, clinking glasses-everything blended into an ugly symphony of power misused.

Girls had been called for their “entertainment,” forced to dance under the dim lights, their discomfort hidden under professional smiles. A few women in black-and-white maid uniforms served drinks silently, eyes lowered, though their minds were alert… observant.

Behind the large glass windows, waiters moved discreetly with trays, refilling glasses, clearing empty bottles, pretending not to hear the conversations that could shake any government.

“…the Mumbai outskirts land must be shown as government acquisition. Once the papers are fixed, the ministers will clear the way. Samajh rahe ho na? Usse hum sabka fayda nikal sakta hai,” one politician said, swirling his drink.

“Exactly. Public ko kya pata chalega? Signature lagwayenge… bas. And then we split the profit. Easy money,” another added, leaning back as a girl danced half-heartedly in front of him.

Their laughter was loud. Their guilt was nonexistent.

After the party

By the time the clock hit past midnight, the party had fizzled out. The powerful men left in convoys, their SUVs creating a dust storm along the private road. Silence slowly reclaimed the farmhouse.

Inside, waiters hurried to clean up the mess, broken glasses, spilled liquor, half-eaten plates. Among them, two female servants exchanged a quick look. Without drawing attention, they slipped toward the washroom corridor where the lights were dimmer and security was minimal.

Once the door shut behind them, one of the girls exhaled sharply.

“Shuddi, are we done? Humme jo footage chahiye tha… mil gaya na?” she whispered, anxiety trembling in her voice.

Shuddi turned, her expression calm - too calm for a girl who had been surrounded by danger for hours. Her eyes shimmered with confidence.

“Of course, Riddhi,” she said, lifting her hand to show the tiny camera embedded in her ear studs. Then she tapped her pocket lightly. “And the voice recorder is full. We got everything… every single word.”

Relief washed over Riddhi’s face for a second, but fear quickly followed.

“Then we have to leave. Yaha jitna der rahenge… utna hi khatra badh jayega.”

Shuddi brushed a strand of hair back, her voice low but steady.

“Iss dress mein bahar jaana is not safe. They’ll know we were part of the staff. What if someone stops us?”

Riddhi’s breath hitched. “Do you have any other option?”

A slow smirk lifted the corner of Shuddi’s lips.

“Plan B toh humesha rehni chahiye, meri jaan.”

She walked toward the small ventilation window at the far end of the washroom. Hidden behind a loose stone block was a sealed packet. She pulled it out silently, her movements practiced and confident.

Inside were two cream-coloured sarees with red borders, neatly folded, smelling faintly of fresh cotton.

Riddhi blinked. “Yeh saree kis liye, Shuddi?”

Shuddi’s eyes sparkled with sharp intelligence-the kind that came only from surviving danger too many times.

“Yaha se kuch hi door par aaj World Hindu Association Welfare ka event chal raha hai.”

She pulled out two laminated cards.

“We’ll attend it on our way out. And if any police check post stops us… we show these passes. Fake, but convincing enough.”

Riddhi took the saree from her, smiling with pure admiration.

“Good job… Shudvika Singh Pandey.”

The name hung in the air-Shudvika Singh Pandey, investigative journalist, fearlessly gathering evidence in the lion’s den.

They both changed quickly, transforming from low-profile servants into culturally dressed young women attending a religious welfare event. The saree draped around them like a shield, giving them both dignity and cover.

Once ready, Shudvika opened the ventilation window. It was just wide enough for one person to slip through.

“Let’s go. Quietly.”

They climbed out one by one, landing softly on the cold grass at the back of the farmhouse. The night wind was chilly, carrying the distant sound of highway traffic.

Their scooty was hidden behind a line of trees, right where they had left it hours earlier.

Shudvika checked her recorder once more, then nodded at Riddhi.

“Run. Don’t look back.”

They sprinted toward the scooty, the weight of truth in their pockets and danger chasing their shadows.

Moments later, the scooty’s engine hummed to life, and the two girls disappeared into the night-

not as servants…

but as warriors carrying evidence that could bring powerful men to their knees.

************************

Otherside

The car rolled to a stop outside the glass entrance of PS Technologies. The evening lights reflected across the sleek building, its façade shimmering like a blade under the fading sun. Krishnansh stepped out first, adjusting the cuffs of his charcoal suit with habitual precision. Radhya climbed out from the passenger seat, the file pressed against her chest, her expression already carrying the exhaustion of a long day. Pandey emerged from the back seat, clutching his folders as if they were an extension of his soul.

The three of them began walking toward the main doors. Just as their reflections approached the tinted glass, Radhya’s phone vibrated sharply in her hand. She glanced at the screen and froze.

It was Anika.

Which meant it was from Crown Jewels.

Her entire focus shifted. She stopped right in front of the glass doorway. Krishnansh, who had stepped ahead, paused and turned back with a frown touching his features.

“What happened” he asked, his tone clipped but curious.

“It is an important call. I have to take this. Give me five minutes, Mr. Singh” she replied with complete sincerity.

He gave a short nod, then walked inside with Pandey trailing behind him.

Radhya answered the call, her voice dropping into a tone that only work emergencies could extract from her. While she spoke, Krishnansh had already reached the lift. The guard stationed there straightened immediately and saluted him. Krishnansh acknowledged him silently.

“Do not send anyone until the meeting is over. It is a confidential meeting” Pandey instructed the guard, completely forgetting that Radhya was still outside.

The lift doors closed, carrying Krishnansh and Pandey to the twenty-eighth floor.

A few minutes later, Radhya hurried inside and approached the security desk.

“Where is the conference room” she asked.

“In the twenty-eighth floor, ma’am” the guard said politely.

She was about to step into the lift when the guard extended his hand to block her path.

“What happened” she asked, baffled.

“Sir has instructed not to send anyone up. It is a confidential meeting” he explained gently.

“But I have permission. I need to go to them” she insisted.

“No madam, please do not do this. If I let someone go inside, I will lose my job” he begged. The fear of Krishnansh pratap Singh was clearly visible in his trembling voice.

“Fine then. Call him. Let him decide whether I can go or not” she said, folding her arms.

“No madam, no. The last time a guard tried that, Krishnansh sir scolded him so badly he fell sick. If I also fall sick, what will happen to my family. I have two wives and four children. Who will feed them, madam” he lamented dramatically.

Radhya blinked.

“Two wives and four children. That is illegal, you know” she said, forgetting entirely about the meeting while her wandering curiosity lit up.

“I do not know all that, madam. I loved my first me very much, so I married her. My second wife also loved me very much, so I had to marry her as well” he said with genuine distress.

Radhya leaned forward, fascinated. “So there are no problems at home? People ruin their life with one marriage and you are managing two. You are something else. Really impressive.”

“What problem could there be, madam. When the first one beats me, the second one applies medicine. When the second one beats me, the first one applies medicine. Everything is balanced” he answered dramatically, his eyes filled with the struggles of a man living in domestic chaos.

Radhya burst into laughter. But her amusement vanished the moment she remembered her situation.

She whispered to herself, horrified, “If I do not reach that meeting, that lakad bhagga Pratap Singh will chew me alive.”

Her eyes darted around and landed on another lift on the other side of the lobby. It was empty. The guard was still lost in his tragic double-marriage monologue.

She bolted toward the other lift.

“Madam, no” the guard screamed when he noticed her. “That lift goes directly to sir’s private floor. You will enter his penthouse. You will not be able to come down. Madam, please…”

But it was too late. The lift doors closed.

Inside the lift, Radhya pressed every button in panic. None of them worked. The lift was bypassing every floor, rising steadily. Her heartbeat climbed with it.

“Why is this not stopping. What is this lift even doing” she cried in frustration, slamming the panel with her palm.

The numbers climbed relentlessly until they reached thirty-two. The lift slowed and finally came to a stop. The doors opened silently.

Radhya’s eyes widened to their limits. Her breath caught in her throat.

She stepped into a world that looked nothing like an office floor.

It was Krishnansh’s penthouse.

A perfectly curated universe tailored for a man who was the CEO of a multinational empire.

The penthouse stretched across the entire floor, one side made entirely of glass that revealed the entire skyline of Mumbai glowing under the twilight. The city looked small from this height, like a toy world beneath his feet. The interior was drenched in a warm blend of charcoal, deep mahogany, and muted gold. Every corner held precision, discipline, and a quiet, intimidating elegance.

The walls displayed sculpted metallic art pieces, sharp and abstract, reflecting a mind that thrived in control. A massive bookshelf, carved from dark wood, lined the left side. Its shelves held rare books on war strategy, psychology, architecture, and finance. Beside them lay ancient daggers and vintage pistols encased in glass stands, each positioned with obsessive order.

The living area exuded luxury without a single trace of softness. Black leather couches. A marble coffee table with edges so sharp they looked like they could cut skin. A grand piano stood near the window, untouched yet polished to perfection. The chandeliers were modern, geometric, almost predatory in their design.

Everything was silent. Everything commanded respect. Everything warned that this space belonged to a man who did not bend.

His scent lingered faintly in the air, a mix of expensive cologne and something cold, metallic, almost dangerous.

Radhya swallowed hard.

She whispered to herself, “What kind of haunted heaven is this…”

She took one hesitant step forward, her sandals echoing across the vast hall, and for the first time in her life, she felt like she had stepped into a place she had absolutely no business entering.

And this exact moment was the beginning of the trouble she never saw coming.

She spun around, searching desperately for the lift she had just stepped out from. Maybe she could go back down before anyone noticed her inside this forbidden luxury palace.

Her hopes shattered instantly.

The lift doors had already closed, sealing shut like the gates of destiny. She rushed toward them and pressed her fingers along the metal frame, only then noticing something horrifying.

There were no buttons on the outside panel.

Nothing to call the lift. Nothing to open it. Nothing to help her escape.

Her eyes widened. That meant only one thing. People could come up in this lift, but they could not leave through it. Anyone going down had to use an internal staircase.

Her heart dropped to her feet.

“That means the only way down is the stairs. Stairs. In this entire big scary  penthouse. Kya hi khoobsurat jeevan hai mera…” she muttered to herself, almost ready to sit and cry.

She turned and ran toward the main entrance of the penthouse, that elegant set of glass double doors that looked harmless from far away but up close screamed restricted access. She grabbed the handle and pushed.

Nothing.

She tried again, harder this time.

Still nothing.

She stared at the digital lock blinking at her mockingly. A password lock. A big one. The kind that clearly said: stay out or stay trapped.

“Great. Amazing. Wah. Mera hi luck tha yeh sab hona” she groaned, pressing her forehead against the cold glass.

She yanked her phone out of her pocket, hope lighting her eyes.

“Please please please… just let me call Pandey ji” she whispered, tapping the screen.

Network bars glowed.

Her face brightened. “Thank god, network hai.”

And then, right in front of her eyes, the tiny battery icon blinked red once and vanished.

The screen went black.

Her soul left her body.

She stared at the blank phone and made the most betrayed expression a human being could possibly make.

“Hey Mahadev… yeh battery bhi abhi dead hona tha kya…” her voice cracked, her lower lip jutting out in a dramatic pout, very much like a helpless cry baby abandoned in the middle of a luxurious jungle.

She shook the phone twice, as if scolding it might magically bring it back to life.

Nothing.

She looked up at the ceiling in despair. “Bas ab koi dhol bajake bole… congratulations Radhya, tu officially phas chuki hai.”

She paced in small frustrated circles, clutching her dead phone as if she might strangle it.

Somewhere behind her, the penthouse remained silent, cold, watching her like a palace observing an intruder who had no idea what kind of king owned this land.

**********************

The road toward the city was quiet -too quiet. The orange glow of distant highway lights flickered like fading fireflies, and the night wind stung their faces as the scooty sped forward. The farmland around them slowly gave way to empty plots and half-constructed buildings.

Just when Shudvika thought they had left danger behind, Riddhima suddenly gasped.

“Shuddi… look!”

Beside the deserted stretch leading into Andheri East, a black car had crashed headfirst into a tree. Its front was crumpled, the windshield fractured like a spider’s web. The headlights flickered weakly, illuminating the lonely, abandoned path.

They skidded to a halt.

In that silence, even the sound of their breaths felt loud.

Both rushed toward the driver’s side. A young man lay slumped over the steering wheel, unconscious, blood trickling down the side of his forehead.

Riddhima swallowed hard.

“I-I think it’s a drunk-and-drive case, Shuddi.”

Shudvika ignored the fear trembling in her friend’s voice. She knelt beside the man, her fingers automatically checking the pulse at his neck.

“It’s slow…” she murmured, eyes moving to the shattered windshield. “He must’ve hit his head on the glass. We need to take him to a hospital immediately.”

Riddhima searched his pockets. Her hand froze when she pulled out a passport and ID.

“He’s not local… he landed today.” Her eyes widened. “His name is Aarav Srivastav.”

With difficulty, they pulled him out, supporting his limp weight between them. He groaned faintly, head lolling forward.

“We don’t have time,” Shudvika said. “Help me lift him.”

Somehow, they settled him between them on the scooty - the man’s body swaying helplessly as they held him upright. Riddhima quickly checked nearby hospitals on her phone.

“There’s a government hospital six minutes from here.”

“Then let’s move.”

They raced through the empty streets, the scooty engine buzzing against the heavy stillness of the night.

---

At the Government Hospital

The old building stood with flickering tube lights and peeling walls - the kind of place people only entered when they had no other choice.

Inside, it was nearly empty.

No duty doctor.

No senior staff.

Just two young, inexperienced nurses who looked more confused than helpful.

Riddhima called them loudly.

“Emergency! He’s bleeding!”

One of the nurses panicked and rushed to call the doctor.

It took ten whole minutes for the duty doctor to stroll in - slow, lazy, scratching his neck as if he’d just woken from a nap he didn’t deserve.

Shudvika’s jaw clenched.

She had seen the system fail too many times - but seeing it fail now, when someone’s life was slipping away in her hands, made her stomach twist with anger.

The doctor barely glanced at Aarav, checked his pulse with a bored expression, and shrugged.

“It’s an accident case, madam. File a complaint in the police station first. Only then we’ll start treatment.”

On the stretcher, Aarav stirred weakly, trying to open his eyes. He couldn’t see clearly - everything was blurring, spinning, stretching. But he could hear the voices… harsh, cold, careless.

He winced in pain, fingers curling.

Shudvika’s voice snapped like a whip.

“Doctor, we will file the complaint. But what if something happens to my husband before that?”

She said it with full authority - knowing very well how to play the system.

She shot a quick look at Riddhima, who immediately understood.

“Yes, doctor,” Riddhima said, stepping forward. “He’s my brother. And she’s my sister–in–law. Please start the treatment. I’ll go to the police station and file the report.”

But the doctor didn’t budge.

Instead, he scoffed, crossing his arms.

“Madam, girls from good families do not roam around at this hour. And they especially don’t show up in deserted places with their so-called husband and brother.”

His eyes darkened with an ugly smirk.

“Don’t teach me. I’ve seen many like you. The boy must have refused to pay after his work was done, so you probably hit him yourself.”

The nurses snickered.

Something inside Shudvika snapped.

Her palm curled into a fist.

Her heartbeat pounded in her ears.

Her blood boiled with a fire she rarely let loose.

Without a word, she reached down, lifted the hem of her saree, and pulled out her ID card - her real identity.

Her voice came out sharp, steady, and fierce.

“Shudvika Singh Pandey.”

She placed the card right in front of the doctor’s face.

“Investigative journalist.”

Her tone carried authority no one could fake.

“I know exactly how the system functions and what it demands. THIS man is my husband. And if anything happens to him because of your negligence ”

She stepped closer, eyes hard, unblinking.

“—I will make sure neither you nor this hospital escapes accountability.”

Her voice rose, trembling with fury but controlled like a blade.

“I will bring the media. I will bring the commissioner. And I swear, doctor… I will expose every single failure in your emergency ward.”

Aarav forced his eyes open again.

His world was blurry - shadows and colors merging - but one thing was clear:

A soft cream-colored saree.

A girl standing between him and danger.

Her long hair trembling slightly as she argued.

Her shoulders rigid with worry -

for him.

He blinked, trying to focus, trying to see the face of the woman protecting him so fiercely.

But the darkness pulled him again.

His eyes fluttered shut, his breath unsteady…

And the last thing he remembered was the warmth of her voice echoing against the cold hospital walls.....

A stranger’s voice that sounded like hope.

********************

Otherside in PS technologies

Time had passed barely fifteen minutes, yet for Krishnansh it felt like a slow, stretching eternity. By now, Radhya should have arrived at the conference room. She was  careless with time, careless with responsibility. But not today where international clients waiting across the table, she should have walked in with her usual not so calm voice, offering a cruel apology for being slightly late.

He kept expecting the conference door to open any second. He kept expecting to hear her say that soft line she always used.

" Sorry sir, I got delayed for a moment."

But the door stayed closed.

And the chair next to him remained empty.

His patience level began dropping like a stone hitting the bottom of the sea.

The clients continued discussing strategies, numbers, marketing budgets, but every word felt like needles irritating his already frayed nerves. He loosened his tie and stared at the empty seat again. His wristwatch was checked every thirty seconds, his eyes flicking restlessly to the glass door.

She should have been here.

The moment he felt his tolerance snap, he stood up abruptly from his chair.

"Cancel the meeting. We will discuss this tomorrow. Pandey ji, come with me."

There was no room for argument. His voice allowed none.

Pandey hurried behind him as Krishnansh strode out of the conference room, his long steps echoing sharply across the corridor. He took the lift down at once, tapping his foot impatiently until the doors opened to the ground floor.

He marched straight to the entrance security.

"Did you see a girl here? Long hair, large expressive eyes, she was wearing a maroon and copper saree."

The new security guard stiffened under his intense tone and shook his head quickly.

"No sir, I did not."

That answer only tightened the tension in his chest.

Pandey stared at the guard carefully and asked with suspicion.

"There was another security guard here before you. Where did he go?"

The guard straightened his back and explained nervously.

"Sir, before me, Ramesh was here. Suddenly his health got very bad. His blood pressure went extremely high. We sent him to the hospital. I have taken his place for now."

Krishnansh did not wait for another word. He stormed to the reception desk.

"Tina, did you see any girl here?"

The receptionist blinked twice, confused, then shook her head.

"No sir."

She had completely forgotten that a girl had come earlier asking for the conference room.

Krishnansh clenched his jaw and walked straight out of the building. The moment the doors slid open, he almost broke into a run. Pandey practically sprinted behind him to keep up with his speed.

He reached the car, got in the driver’s seat, and slammed the door shut. Pandey hurried into the passenger seat before he drove away without him.

"Sir, please listen, " Pandey began.

"Whatever nonsense you want to say, say it later, Pandey ji. Not now."

His tone was ice cold, but the panic beneath it was unmistakable.

He stopped the car near a small group of people standing outside a café and got out hurriedly. He opened his phone gallery, his fingers scrolling past the album he would never admit existed. An album filled with pictures of Radhya. Pictures he had taken discreetly. Pictures he kept saving without understanding why.

He selected the clearest one, walked to the group and showed it.

"Did any of you see this girl? Anywhere around here?"

Pandey watched him silently.

And in those moments, something became painfully, beautifully clear.

This was not responsibility.

This was not duty.

This was fear. Fear of losing someone. Someone he cared for more than he would ever allow himself to admit.

Pandey stepped towards him, ready to speak, but Krishnansh ignored him again.

Pandey’s frustration reached its limit. He turned and sat inside the car firmly, folding his arms.

When Krishnansh finally returned and opened his phone to inform his team – practically ready to launch a full-scale search operation for Radhya – Pandey grabbed the phone from his hand.

"Sir, please listen to me once."

"What, Mr Pandey?" Krishnansh’s voice thundered, raw and sharp.

"Sir, let us check the CCTV footage first. Then we will know if Radhya betiya even entered the office or not. If you panic like this, we will not find anything."

For the first time, Krishnansh did not reply immediately.

He came outside and leaned against the hood of the car, eyes dropping to the pavement. A strange tightness pulled across his chest.

"Why is her presence affecting me like this?"

The question echoed inside him like a truth he did not want to face.

Pandey placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"It happens, sir. Sometimes the heart becomes stronger than the mind. And when that happens, a man often loses control."

He paused and added softly.

" I know you fear losing your people. That is why you never let anyone come close. But I also know one more thing. You care too much for Radhya betiya."

Those words sliced straight into him.

He hated how true they sounded.

Krishnansh straightened, forcing his expression back into the cold, emotionless mask he wore like armor. He removed Pandey’s hand, composed himself, and walked back to the driver’s seat.

Without another word, he turned the car around and drove back to the office.

He had no idea that at the very same moment, far above the city skyline, inside his private penthouse, a very scared and very trapped Radhya was pacing helplessly with a dead phone, whispering prayers to Mahadev.

******************

Shudvika finished the police station formalities, cleared the lie she had used at the hospital, and finally dropped Ridhima home.

By the time she reached her own house, it was almost 2 AM.

Inside, the living room was dim. A single lamp glowed in the corner.

Swarna Singh Pandey stood waiting, her eyes tired and heavy with worry. Her voice came out sharp, even though it was only concern.

"Agayi maharani? Did your social service finally end or not?"

Shudvika sighed quietly.

"Maa, you did not sleep yet? Is Papa asleep?"

Swarna shook her head.

"Your father did not come home either. He called to say there was an emergency in the office. He will come in the morning."

Shudvika walked to the kitchen, took a water bottle, returned to the hall and gently rested her head on her mother's lap.

Swarna slowly untangled her hair, her fingers moving with love and fear together.

After a moment, she spoke.

"Shudhi, how long will you keep living like this? Whatever happened, you need to forget and start your life again."

Shudvika closed her eyes.

"Maa, my life is only my son, Viaan. Once I get his custody, I do not need anything else in this world."

Swarna's expression twisted with pain.

"You never listen to me. Every decision you took in life turned out wrong. First, this profession. There were so many careers, but you wanted to become a journalist. Then you fell in love with that man, fought with us and married him. And within two years, you got divorced. Now you are fighting a custody case."

She paused, her eyes turning wet.

"Do you even know how much it hurts your father and me to see you like this?"

Shudvika inhaled sharply. She did not want to remember, but the memories pushed their way in.

Her husband, the man she had once trusted more than her own heartbeat, standing with another woman without guilt or regret.

His last words echoed in her head.

“Tum sirf meri ho, Shudvika. Tumhare upar sirf mera haq hai , Agar tumhare zindagi mein koi aur aaya… toh woh nahi rahega.

Isiliye tumhare paas koi aur option nahi. Viaan ke liye… tumhe mere paas wapas aana hi hoga.”

(You are mine, Shudvika. I have all rights on you If anyone else comes into your life, he will not stay alive. You have no other option. For Viaan, you must come back to me.)

Her eyes opened slowly. Her chest felt heavy.

Without saying anything, she stood up and walked toward her room.

Her steps were quiet, but her pain was loud.

Swarna watched her go and snap

ped out of frustration.

"Fine, go. You and your father both. Ignoring my words is the only thing you two know how to do. What else can I even say?"

Even after her angry words faded, her worried eyes remained fixed on the hallway where her daughter had disappeared.

******************