CHAPTER V INVIDIA
The evening had settled over Nayonica Sen's apartment like a held breath.
The deep maroon walls absorbed the low golden light from the brass lamps, turning the space into something both intimate and charged with quiet electricity.
Empty coffee cups and scattered notes littered the low table, silent witnesses to the hours of tension that had built like storm clouds.
The group sat in a loose circle — Tara on the edge of the velvet sofa, spine straight, eyes sharp; Devika and Vedika flanking her with matching expressions of grim resolve; Ishicka lounging with elegant detachment, wine glass in hand; Nayonica hovering near the kitchen, offering quiet support.
Ishaani had left for the mansion twenty minutes earlier. The earpiece was back in place, hidden in her delicate gold earring. Every breath she took was audible through the line.
Tara's hand rested on her knee, fingers tapping a restless rhythm. "Stay calm, Bambi. And, refrain from killing someone for me."
Ishicka Sen Malhotra had worked her magic with surgical precision, something taught to her by her useless and bull's burden of a father— the sole thing that he was ever able to teach her, apart from blasphemy, treachery, fraud and lies.
She still remembered vividly how Nayonica had been heartbroken when their father hadn't attended her 12th birthday, and Ishicka had stepped in to explain that he was working (code word for him spending time on an island in the Aegean).
Nayonica was a gullible child, always had been one, so teaching her anything of that sort had been rather easier than lying to herself.
Ishicka had always known what her father was doing, ever since she was 11 years old, and perhaps that was the very reason behind the sour-temper which she seemed to have been born with.
She could have not talked to anybody regarding that matter, and that had ever since then to the ripe age of 24 taken a toll on her.
Yes, she received everything that she ever wished for, but that didn't erase her father's character as a man-whore and an utterly hopeless puppet to the shiny life.
His prioritising money had never been a problem for Ishicka; in fact, she was one to do the same, but his ways to do so were definitely objectionable and wrong in the utmost meaning of that word.
She had tried everything in her power to keep Nayonica away from even his shadow, yet her sister was a spitting image of her and had found fragments of this unethical business by the age of 15.
They never really loved their father after the revelations, and Ishicka was happy with it.
Living with him had proved to be hectic and questionably soul-crushing.
What he did had benefited Ishicka, but now she was willing to change it all for the girls who'd end up in that ring in the future.
She had found Rajeev earlier that evening, elegant in a deep burgundy saree, voice smooth as aged whiskey.
"Rajeev Uncle, Ishaani is ready to embrace the family legacy fully.
" Rajeev had objected, but the master manipulator simply used the tactic she knew best and introduced envy, "You do remember the Singhanias had trained their next generation from the very age of 15, right?
And, have you completely forgotten how my father prepared me for this business? "
Ishicka knew she had hit the nail on the head, "But she needs honesty. No more secrets. If you want her to stand beside you like the heir you always wanted, you have to tell her everything."
Rajeev was the type of man who cared less about what he lost and more about what others gained. So, filling his mind that he was behind his very rivals was the perfect way to get him to confess to Ishaani.
Rajeev had studied her for a long moment, then nodded.
Now Ishaani sat across from him in the dimly lit office, the same heavy velvet drapes drawn, the same brass lamp casting its conspiratorial glow. Rajeev leaned back in his leather chair, whiskey glass in hand, looking at his youngest daughter with newfound pride.
"Ish," he began, voice warm but serious, "Ishicka is right. If you're truly going to carry this family forward, you deserve the truth. No more half-measures."
He spoke for nearly forty minutes, but he told her everything.
The Sahastra Alliance had never been a charity.
It was a carefully constructed machine — shelters that funnelled vulnerable girls into a network of powerful clients.
"Self-reliance programs" were recruitment pipelines.
The offshore accounts in Dubai, Singapore, Mauritius and certain other islands in the Aegean moved money from men who paid handsomely for discretion and access.
He named names — politicians, industrialists, even a few judges.
He spoke of routes through Rajasthan and Madhya Pradesh, of how complaints were buried, of how he had protected Aurobindo Sen because their interests aligned.
"It was necessary, beta," he said, eyes gleaming with conviction. "For the family. For the empire. Your sisters never understood that. They're too emotional. Too idealistic. But you... You see the bigger picture. Don't you?"
Ishaani kept her face perfectly composed — eyes wide with attentive respect, small nods at the right moments, the picture of a loyal, understanding daughter.
"Yes, Papa," she said softly, a soft smile playing on her face when he finished, voice steady.
"I understand. You did what you had to do.
For us. For the legacy." She looked at him and smiled the heartiest smile possible, not because he thought he was right, but because Tara Kapoor was smiling on the other end of her comms, "I'm proud of you, Dadda. "
Rajeev smiled — wide, relieved, genuinely proud. He reached across the desk and squeezed her hand. "I knew you would. We're going to do great things together."
The group listened in stunned, horrified silence as Rajeev's full confession poured through the earpiece — names, dates, routes, admissions wrapped in eloquent justifications.
Tara's hand tightened into a fist on her knee, but her voice remained steady for Ishaani. "You're doing perfectly, Bambi. Just a little longer. Stay calm."
Devika looked physically ill, face pale. "He's admitting to everything. My God... he's proud of it." She was visibly shaken and horrified at the sheer audacity og his to accept what he had done and that too, so proudly.
Vedika was recording every word, jaw clenched so tight it looked painful. "We have it all. Every single word."
Ishicka took a slow sip of wine, her smile sharp and satisfied. "I should've been an actress alongside your sister. He's singing like a bird."
When Ishaani finally left the office and stepped into the hallway, her voice came through the earpiece — quiet, exhausted, but resolute.
Tara's response was immediate, soft and full of fierce love. "You were incredible, my brave girl. Don't worry yourself any further, you have done your part."
The Rajvanshi mansion at midnight felt like a tomb that had learned how to breathe.
Devika and Vedika moved through the grand hallways like shadows with teeth.
The marble floors gleamed coldly under recessed lighting, reflecting their tense faces at them in distorted fragments.
They had come under the pretence of collecting some of Vedika's old legal files — but the real purpose was the small encrypted hard drive she had hidden in her room months ago.
It contained the final missing links — transaction hashes, partial ledgers, and metadata that, when combined with the files Ishaani had stolen, would give Naina Rizvi Roy everything needed to bury Rajeev Rajvanshi for good.
The house was mostly dark, but light spilt from Rajeev's private study like a wound.
They heard the shouting before they saw it.
"You useless woman!" Rajeev's voice boomed, raw with frustration and whiskey. "I told you to have those contacts ready. Always making excuses. Always so incompetent. What kind of wife are you? What kind of mother?"
Sneha's voice was quieter, trembling but trying to hold steady. "Rajeev, please... It's late. The girls—"
"The girls?" He laughed, ugly and sharp. "One is a golden child, the other two are ungrateful bitches who think they can destroy everything I built. And you — you raised them like this."
Devika and Vedika froze at the edge of the doorway. They both shared a look, raising their eyebrows with sheer incredulity.
Vedika's jaw clenched so hard it ached. She stepped forward first, unable to stay silent. Devika reached for her arm, but Vedika had already opened the door.
"Enough."
Rajeev turned, eyes narrowing when he saw them. His face twisted into something ugly — rage, contempt, and the arrogance of a man who still believed he owned everything in this house.
"Look who decided to show their faces," he sneered. "The two failures. Come to beg for forgiveness? Or to stab me in the back again?"
Vedika's voice was ice. "We came for my files. But I won't stand here and listen to you speak to Sneha like that. She's not your punching bag."
Rajeev laughed again, stepping closer. "Punching bag?
She's lucky I still keep her in this house.
After raising two daughters who turned out to be disappointments.
Especially you, Vedika. Always too sharp for your own good.
Just like your mother." Rajeev didn't even realize how he was pouring fuel into the fire.
"And, if you don't change.... you will have an ending just like hers. "
The words hit like a whip.
Vedika saw it then — the flashback crashed over her with brutal clarity.
It had been a stormy night, the kind where the rain lashed against the tall windows of the mansion like it wanted to break in.
Vedika had been unable to sleep, her mind restless with half-formed suspicions about the girls who came and went from the Sahastra shelters.
She had slipped out of bed in her nightgown, bare feet silent on the cold marble, and crept toward her father's study.
The door was ajar.
She had pressed herself against the wall, heart hammering, and peered through the narrow crack.
Their mother stood in the center of the room, beautiful and furious, her silk saree slightly disheveled from pacing.
The lamp on the massive mahogany desk cast long, flickering shadows across her face.
Rajeev sat behind the desk like a king on his throne, whiskey glass in hand, expression cold and imperious.
"You cannot keep doing this, Rajeev," their mother had said, voice trembling with rage and fear. "Those girls... they are children. You are moving them like cargo. I saw the records. I saw the payments. This is not charity. This is monstrosity."
Rajeev had laughed — low, ugly, dismissive. "You've always been too soft, Anjana. Too idealistic. The world is not kind to women who ask too many questions. Sahastra keeps this family strong. It keeps us powerful. You should be grateful."
Their mother had stepped closer, voice rising. "Grateful? While you sell girls to monsters? While you destroy lives for money and connections? I won't stay silent anymore. I will expose you. I will take our daughters and leave if I have to."
The argument had escalated quickly. Voices grew louder. Their mother's accusations became sharper, more desperate. Rajeev's patience snapped.
He stood up so fast the chair scraped violently against the floor.
"You dare threaten me?" he snarled.
He shoved her.
Hard.
Their mother stumbled backwards, arms flailing, eyes wide with shock. Her heel caught on the edge of the Persian rug. She fell.
The sickening crack of her head hitting the sharp marble edge of the side table echoed through the study like a death knell.
She lay there, motionless. A thin line of blood began to pool on the marble floor, dark and glistening under the lamplight.
Rajeev stood over her, breathing hard, chest heaving. He did not move to help. He did not call for anyone. He simply stared down at her body with cold calculation, as if deciding how to clean up the mess.
Vedika, hidden behind the door, had screamed.
A raw, broken sound tore from her throat before she could stop it.
Devika — who had followed her younger sister out of worry — had clamped a hand over Vedika's mouth and dragged her away down the hallway, both of them trembling, tears streaming down their faces. They had hidden in a dark alcove, clinging to each other, as footsteps approached.
The official story, released the next morning, was clean and tragic: "A terrible accident. Mrs. Anjana Rajvanshi slipped on a wet floor during a late-night walk and hit her head."
But they had always known the truth.
The memory ignited something feral in Vedika, "Shut the fuck up, YOU PIG"
When Rajeev raised his hand and slapped her — hard, across the face — the sound echoed like a gunshot through the hallway.
Vedika's head snapped to the side. Pain bloomed hot across her cheek.
Devika was about to push Rajeev and pull Vedika away with us, because she wanted to put a bullet through him.
Nobody had the right to even touch Vedika, regardless of the fact that Devika was present on the scene or not.
She wanted to kill Rajeev in this situation, burn his face off or have him on a fucking guillotine if possible, but before her mind could go further, a sharp noise pulled her out.
SMACK!
Vedika had slapped him back.
The crack of her palm against his face was louder than his had been. Rajeev staggered, eyes wide with shock.
Devika felt a shiver run down her spine — cold, primal, the kind of shiver that came when the Devil herself recognized true wrath. She stepped forward instantly, pulling Vedika behind her with surprising strength. Her hand continued being wrapped around Vedika's wrist as she kept her shielded.
"DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT," Devika sneered, voice low and lethal, eyes burning. "You, Rajeev....You have touched the wrong women."
Rajeev stared at them, cheek reddening, breathing hard. For the first time in years, he looked small.
Vedika and Devika didn't wait for his response.
They retrieved the hard drive from Vedika's room in silence, then left the mansion without another word.
The group gathered around the speakerphone as Vedika dialled Naina Rizvi Roy — one of the most feared prosecutors in the country.
Naina's voice came through, sharp and awake despite the hour. "Vedika. Tell me you have something good."
Vedika's voice was steel. "We have everything. Full confession. Transaction logs. Photographs. The works. He's planning to leave for Dubai tomorrow. We need him behind bars before he boards that plane."
Naina exhaled slowly. "Send me everything. I'll wake Aarya up." (Officer Aarya Rizvi Roy)
Ishicka, who was sitting beside Devika, uttered, "Oh! She is already awake."
Suddenly, the room was silent again, as the women turned to look at Ishicka who took two seconds to sneer out, "Just focus at the task we already have."
The long con had reached its final, brutal act.
The conference room in Naina Rizvi Roy's private chambers was a fortress of law and calculated vengeance.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the glittering night skyline of Delhi, but the heavy oak table at the centre was covered in files, laptops, printed transcripts, and photographs laid out like pieces on a chessboard of justice.
The air smelled of strong coffee, printer ink, and the faint metallic edge of urgency.
Naina Rizvi Roy stood at the head of the table like a queen who had spent her life dethroning kings.
She was in her mid-forties, sharp-featured, with piercing dark eyes that missed nothing and a presence that commanded the room without raising her voice.
Her tailored black suit was impeccable, her posture regal.
She had built her reputation on cases that others called impossible — taking down politicians, industrialists, and entire networks that thought themselves untouchable.
Tonight, she was facing the Rajvanshi empire.
The group sat around the table: Devika and Vedika side by side, expressions grim but determined; Ishicka leaning back with elegant detachment; Nayonica quietly sitting beside her sister.
Naina tapped a pen against a thick folder, her voice calm, precise, and lethal.
"Let me walk you through the strategy," she began. "We are not just charging Rajeev Rajvanshi with trafficking. We are burying him under layers of evidence so comprehensive that no judge in this country will dare let him walk."
She picked up the first set of documents.
"First — the confession. Ishaani's recording is gold.
Rajeev's own voice admitting to the Sahastra network, naming clients, detailing routes, and justifying the exploitation as 'necessary for the family legacy.
' We'll use it as the cornerstone. Voice authentication is already confirmed.
No defence lawyer worth his salt can dismiss it as coerced when it was given freely to his 'beloved daughter. '"
Vedika nodded. "We have the chip data too. Full logs."
Naina's smile was thin and sharp. "Exactly.
The hardware implant gives us mirror access — every transaction, every encrypted email, every offshore account movement.
We'll present a complete financial trail that links Rajeev directly to payments received for trafficking victims. No gaps. No plausible deniability."
She slid a set of photographs across the table. The images were stark. Naked women. Some recognizable. One of them — Tara — caused a visible flinch in the room.
"These photographs are damning," Naina continued, voice steady.
"Especially the ones taken inside the Rajvanshi mansion.
They prove the network operated from within your own home.
We'll argue this shows a pattern of exploitation and control.
Tara's photo, in particular, establishes personal vendetta and witness intimidation. "
She turned to the next folder. "Timing is critical. Rajeev plans to leave for Dubai tomorrow. We file the charges at 6 AM — before he can board. I've already spoken to a sympathetic judge. We'll request immediate custody and a no-bail order citing flight risk and witness tampering."
Devika leaned forward. "What about the Sahastra victims? Can we bring them in?"
"Already arranged," Naina replied. "We have three protected witnesses ready to testify.
Their statements, combined with the financials and the confession, create an airtight case under POCSO, trafficking laws, and money laundering statutes.
We're not just going for conviction — we're going for maximum sentence. Life imprisonment. No parole."
Ishaani who was on call with them, spoke for the first time, voice small but resolute. "And the pictures of Tara... they'll be used?"
Naina's expression softened slightly. "Yes. As evidence of his pattern. But we'll protect her privacy as much as possible. The court can seal certain exhibits."
Tara's hand moved to the table, rubbing slow circles to keep her mind in check. "You don't have to be there for that part, Bambi. I'll handle it."
Naina closed the final folder with a decisive click. "This is not a trial we will lose. Rajeev built his empire on the suffering of others. Tomorrow, we start dismantling it brick by brick."
The room fell into a heavy, determined silence.
Vedika finally spoke. "Then let's end this."