The Cockeyed Mystery

14. The Old Gangster dies

"In the depths of the crepuscular night, a gangster embarks on an odyssey, venturing into the enigmatic Sajjangarh Palace. Little does he know, destiny weaves an extraordinary tale, intertwining his fate with the mysteries that await. As the night unfolds, the aged gangster's last breath marks the end of an era, a chilling reminder that even the wicked face their reckoning."

***

"Aham Singh, the recently anointed sovereign, found himself enmeshed in a web of misfortune, casting a pall of doom over his reign. The once-esteemed lineage of the royal family was plagued by a series of egregious incidents, shrouding their name in infamy. According to a well-placed source within the court, not one, but two of Aham's brothers met their untimely demise during his rule. The first, a victim of insidious poisoning, succumbed to a treacherous plot, while the second fell victim to a sudden and fatal heart attack. Yet, the most harrowing revelation was yet to come-the third prince had met a gruesome end, his life extinguished ruthlessly by a spear-wielding assassin."

Incensed by these allegations, Aham's fury erupted like a dormant volcano, its molten rage spewing forth in a vehement eruption. "Cease this incessant prattle!" he bellowed, his voice reverberating through the opulent chamber. "I refuse to accept the mantle of a doomed monarch!"

His beloved companion, Vanshikha, demurely acquiesced to his outburst, her almond eyes glinting with affection as she turned her attention to the daily newspaper resting in her lap. Flicking the pages with delicate grace, she meandered through the columns, her fingers dancing across the newsprint as she sought refuge in the next headline, seemingly unfazed by the controversy surrounding her husband's reign.

"Is Ashish Singh the epitome of imperial authority we yearn for?"

Vanshikha read aloud, her voice tinged with incredulity. "Such preposterous notions!" she exclaimed, her brows furrowing as she contemplated the absurdity of her youngest brother-in-law ascending the throne. Swiftly dismissing the disheartening discourse, she made a deft gesture, spinning the paper counterclockwise in a whimsical display before landing on the final pages, where the elusive realm of sports awaited her. A triumphant smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she discovered the headline that heralded respite from the tumultuous affairs of the kingdom.

"Udaipur's regent held culpable for Team India's lamentable defeat."

She announced, the cadence of her voice brimming with satisfaction.

Frustrated and burdened by the weight of his newfound unpopularity, Aham seized the newspaper from his wife's grasp, crumpling it into a disheveled heap. The act served as an outlet for his pent-up ire, a physical manifestation of his waning influence against his despised nemesis, Shivani Chopra. While he acknowledged a begrudging respect for his rival, the same sentiment could not be extended to the lady whose involvement in a drug scandal had tainted his character. Although his father's influence had quelled the incident in the past, he now found himself bereft of such omnipotent authority, unable to silence his formidable adversary.

Vanshikha, ever the devoted consort, endeavored to pacify her husband's tormented spirit, her eyes alight with an unyielding determination to assuage his anger. "Your plan was truly ingenious," she murmured, her voice like a gentle breeze soothing his agitated soul.

"Plan? What plan?" Aham retorted, his voice fractured, a jagged reflection of his frayed emotions. "I am no assassin, nor do I revel in the spilling of blood!"

Arching a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, his wife sipped her tea with an air of nonchalance. "Who said you wielded the fatal instrument yourself? Perhaps that son of Gulshan would have been a willing pawn in your grand design."