Rehaan Oberoi, a ruthless and calculating CEO whose powers and authority everyone feared. However, his business empire was nothing but a facade. In the dark of night, he transformed into a cold-blooded mafia king, known to the world as "Viper".
Esha...
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I hadn't slept properly in days.
Not because of deadlines or legal briefs or another long hearing in court but because I couldn't stop thinking about Rehaan Oberoi.
No. Not thinking.
Unraveling.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face. That unreadable calm. Those calculating eyes that missed nothing. And worse... the flickers of something human buried beneath the monster everyone else was too scared to name.
He wasn't just a man. He was a riddle wrapped in a shadow, and I was running out of time to solve him before something exploded.
And I had the feeling it would explode with me in the center.
—
I sat on the balcony of my apartment, legal files spread out around me but unread. My laptop showed news articles, stock acquisitions, RO International updates—on the surface, everything looked clean.
Too clean.
I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my temples. "Think, Esha. Think."
Mehra. The port laundering. RO International buying out shell companies. Men disappearing. Whispers in courtrooms. Anonymous threats. And now, the unmistakable sensation that someone was watching me even when I was alone.
I hadn't told Priya yet. I didn't want to spook her.
But something had shifted.
It wasn't just about the case anymore.
It was about me.
And it was about him.
—
The knock on my door startled me. It was 9:47 PM.
Too late for a friendly visit.
I approached cautiously. Checked the peephole. No one.
My heart sped up.
I reached for the small stun baton in my drawer something Papa had insisted I keep around ever since I started taking high-risk cases.
Just as I turned, I noticed the envelope. Slipped under the door.
No name. Just my name in black ink: Esha.
I tore it open with shaking fingers.
A photograph.
I gasped.
It was me. Leaving the courthouse yesterday. Looking over my shoulder. Someone had followed me. Someone close enough to take that picture.