73."Don't Worry, Agent, I'll Have Someone Fix you a strong Cup Of Coffee Later."

[3RD PERSON POV]

The night in Amaravathi was cloaked in a heavy darkness, the kind that seemed to swallow everything whole. Yet, the stars above refused to be overshadowed, shining defiantly, their light glittering across the inky canvas of the sky. Beneath this celestial spectacle, a sleek black car raced down the empty streets, its engine humming like a predator on the hunt.

The car came to a sudden stop in front of the Amaravathi Police Station, its headlights slicing through the shadows that loomed over the building. For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Then, with a smooth, deliberate motion, car door swung open, breaking the stillness.

A polished black shoe emerged first, striking the pavement with a quiet authority. It was followed by another, then a hand—gloved in leather—gripping a sleek black bowler hat. Slowly, the man stepped out of the car, his every move measured and deliberate, as though he owned not just the night but time itself.

As he straightened, the light from the streetlamp above caught him in its glow, revealing a figure that seemed to belong to another era. He wore a crisp black suit, tailored to perfection, the edges of his long coat brushing against his polished shoes. A black umbrella, gripped in his other hand, added an air of enigma to his silhouette.

With a practiced ease, he placed the round hat atop his head, tilting it just slightly for effect. His sharp jawline and piercing eyes, partially obscured by the shadow of the brim, gave him the appearance of a detective who had stepped straight out of an old noir film. He was a man out of place yet perfectly at home in the night.

He stood for a moment, surveying the police station before him. The flickering neon sign above the entrance buzzed faintly, casting erratic light over the otherwise foreboding structure. The faint hum of crickets filled the air, a background chorus to the tension that seemed to gather like an invisible fog around him.

The silence of the night was broken as another set of doors swung open, spilling out three figures into the dimly lit police station parking lot. Following closely behind the sharply dressed man was a small group—a contrasting trio who brought their own energy into the scene.

First was a man in an identical black suit, his long coat swaying dramatically with each step. He carried himself with an exaggerated flair, as if savoring every bit of attention his attire might draw. It was Bobby.

Beside him, a woman in a crisp formal shirt and trousers strode forward. Her expression was a mixture of exasperation and determination, as though she was used to corralling these men. It was Sneha.

Finally, a casually dressed man followed, his jacket unzipped and his hands tucked nonchalantly into its pockets. Vamsi seemed utterly unbothered by the theatrics unfolding before him.

Sneha shot Bobby a pointed look before turning her attention to the first man—Athreya—who had been the first to step out of the car. She raised an eyebrow, gesturing toward his umbrella and suit.

"Agent," she began, her tone both questioning and resigned, "why on earth are you wearing a black suit and carrying an umbrella? It's not even raining."

Athreya, ever composed, tilted his head slightly, his eyes sparkling with just a hint of mischief beneath the brim of his hat. He straightened his coat with a flourish, then replied in his smooth, measured tone, "Sneha, you've been my assistant for so long, and yet you still don't understand the essence of the detective profession. This," he said, gesturing to his attire, "is the uniform of a detective—a symbol of our craft. When a detective steps onto a case, appearance is half the battle."

Sneha blinked at him, her lips parting as though to respond, but before she could, Bobby chimed in enthusiastically, cutting through the night air like a firecracker.

"Agent is absolutely right!" Bobby declared, striking a pose as if to emphasize his point. "Sneha, you really should pay attention to these finer details. Ever since we started making a name for ourselves, I've been getting calls from potential clients left and right. Presentation matters! If we dress like this, we look professional. People trust professionals."

Sneha let out a long, weary sigh, running a hand over her face. "But," she countered, her voice edged with the kind of patience honed through countless similar conversations, "we're not here to solve a case. We're here to do something important. You remember that, right?"

Athreya adjusted his hat, casting a sideways glance at Sneha, his expression a mix of playful smugness and seriousness. "This is part of the case," he declared confidently, his tone brooking no argument.

Sneha opened her mouth, ready to counter, but before she could utter a word, Vamsi cut in with his usual laid-back charm. "That's enough, you two. We don't have time to argue," he said, his voice calm but commanding. Turning on his heel, he began striding toward the police station entrance. "Let's move," he called over his shoulder.

The rest of the group exchanged glances, a silent agreement passing between them. Without another word, they followed Vamsi, their footsteps echoing through the quiet night as they entered the police station.

The room smelled of ink, old files, and a faint hint of disinfectant. A weary inspector sat hunched over his desk, scribbling something into a logbook, his focus unbroken until the sound of their footsteps drew his attention. He looked up, momentarily startled, as the group stopped in front of him.

Vamsi reached into his pocket and pulled out his badge with a fluid motion, holding it up to the inspector. The gleam of the official insignia caught the dim light, commanding instant respect. "I'm ACP Vamsi from Nellore," he said in a calm, authoritative tone. Then, gesturing to the others, he added, "These are my companions—Agent Athreya, Detective Sneha, and Detective Bobby."

The inspector's eyes widened slightly as he scanned the badge and then shifted his gaze to their faces. Recognition dawned almost instantly, and he shot up from his seat, saluting Vamsi with an earnestness that betrayed both respect and a hint of nervousness. "It's an honor to meet you, sir," he said, his voice tinged with awe. "Who hasn't heard of you and your team? The case you solved a while back... truly remarkable work."

Vamsi nodded in acknowledgment of the inspector's compliment, but his tone turned serious, the light-hearted banter from earlier replaced by the gravity of their mission. "Thank you, Inspector," he began, "but we're here for a pressing matter. A recent murder in Nellore appears to be linked to a murder case that happened here. I need access to the case file and any evidence you've collected from the crime scene."

The inspector, eager to assist, straightened and nodded. "Of course, sir. If you can give me the name, I'll retrieve the file and evidence immediately."

Vamsi, wasting no time, replied firmly, "We're on a tight schedule. I'll go with you to check the file personally, while my team examines the evidence."

The inspector hesitated, his expression betraying a flicker of discomfort. His eyes darted toward the evidence room door before returning to Vamsi, his hands fidgeting slightly.

Vamsi caught the unease immediately, his tone sharpening as he asked, "Is there a problem, Inspector?"

The inspector shook his head quickly, though his hesitation lingered in his posture. "No, sir, it's just..." He trailed off for a moment before continuing, his voice quieter. "ACP Indrajeet has issued strict orders that no one is allowed in the evidence room."

Athreya, who had been listening in silence with his characteristic calm, now stepped forward, his voice smooth yet laced with an edge. "And why's that"

"Because," the inspector repeated, his voice dropping to a near whisper, "all the evidence related to Chief Minister PKR's death is stored in the evidence room. ACP Indrajeet ordered that it remain sealed off to everyone."

Vamsi, Athreya, Sneha, and Bobby exchanged subtle glances, a silent understanding passing between them like a hidden current. Without a word, they nodded in unison, their teamwork allowing them to communicate without needing to speak.

Vamsi turned back to the inspector, his expression steady and reassuring. "Don't worry about it. If there are any consequences, I'll handle them," he said, his tone firm enough to leave no room for argument.

The inspector hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering between Vamsi and the evidence room door. Finally, with a reluctant nod, he pointed toward the dimly lit door at the end of the corridor. "That's the evidence room," he said.

"Thank you," Vamsi replied briskly, and the team moved into action. Vamsi followed the inspector to check the files, while Athreya, Sneha, and Bobby headed for the evidence room.

As they reached the heavy door, Athreya's sharp eyes scanned their surroundings to ensure no one was watching. Once inside, the air changed. The room was cold and sterile, the faint scent of paper and old wood filling the space. Rows of shelves stood like silent sentinels, each laden with boxes and bags of evidence, meticulously labeled and stored.

Athreya turned to Bobby, his tone low but commanding. "Bobby, stand by the door. If anyone comes, alert us immediately."

Bobby gave a quick nod, positioning himself near the entrance. Athreya and Sneha slipped on gloves in practiced unison, their movements efficient and careful. "We can't leave any fingerprints," Athreya muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

The two began their search, scanning labels. The sound of faint hum of the fluorescent light above filled the room. Sneha's sharp eyes darted from shelf to shelf, her fingers grazing over labels as she worked methodically.

A few tense moments passed before her hand froze. "Agent, here," she called softly, her voice steady but tinged with urgency.

Athreya strode over to Sneha, his steps deliberate and soundless on the cold floor. As he approached, his gaze followed hers to a shelf marked with a small placard: PKR. The shelf held several items sealed in evidence bags, each meticulously tagged. Athreya's sharp eyes swept over the contents, scanning for what he needed. His fingers paused as he spotted it—an inhaler, unmistakably marked with the late Chief Minister's name.

Without hesitation, Athreya pulled out an identical inhaler from his pocket, a replica he'd prepared beforehand. With precise movements, he swapped the original for the duplicate, his hands steady despite the tension thrumming in the air. He slipped the original inhaler into a hidden compartment of his coat and turned to Sneha, giving her a curt nod.

"Let's go," he whispered.

Sneha didn't need to be told twice. She glanced at Bobby, who was still keeping watch by the door. A quick hand signal from Athreya had Bobby moving to join them. Together, the three removed their gloves, tucking them away with practiced efficiency, and stepped out of the evidence room as though they had never been there.

The hallway outside was quiet, save for the muffled sounds of activity from the main office. As they emerged, Athreya's eyes locked onto Vamsi, who was just exiting another room with the inspector. The unspoken bond between the team showed itself once again. Athreya's subtle nod was all it took for Vamsi to understand that the mission was accomplished.

Vamsi turned to the inspector with his characteristic calm demeanor, offering a polite smile. "Thank you for your cooperation, Inspector," he said smoothly. "Your assistance has been invaluable."

The inspector, seemingly relieved to see them leaving without incident, nodded and offered a stiff smile of his own. "Of course, sir. If you need anything else, don't hesitate to ask."

With that, the group moved swiftly but calmly out of the police station. The moment they stepped into the cool night air, their tension eased slightly, but no one spoke until they reached the car parked a short distance away. Athreya slid into the passenger seat while Vamsi took the wheel. Sneha and Bobby climbed into the back, their faces still shadowed by the seriousness of their task.

As the car sped through the dimly lit streets, the tension inside was palpable. Vamsi's hands gripped the steering wheel firmly, his gaze focused on the road ahead. The faint hum of the engine filled the silence as Athreya leaned back in the passenger seat, the weight of the evidence in his hands.

He turned the inhaler over, inspecting it carefully, his sharp eyes narrowing with thought. Finally, a faint smile tugged at his lips, breaking the tension. "Now," he said, his voice calm but carrying a hint of satisfaction, "it's time to find out if Krishna's suspicions are correct—if PKR's death really ties back to Jaidev because of this inhaler."

Athreya glanced at the others, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of the dashboard. Sneha, seated directly behind him, leaned forward slightly, her brows furrowed in thought. Bobby, next to her, looked more relaxed but still alert, his gaze flickering between Athreya and the road.

"Straight to the lab," Athreya directed, his tone shifting to urgency as he turned to Vamsi. "We need answers now."

Vamsi nodded without hesitation, his expression unreadable but resolute. "On it," he replied, accelerating smoothly as they navigated through the city. The streetlights blurred into streaks of yellow as the car picked up speed.

Athreya wasted no time. He pulled out his phone, the faint glow lighting up his sharp features. His fingers moved swiftly over the screen, crafting a message to Krishna:

'Mission successful. Evidence secured. Heading to the lab now.'

———————————————

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[KRISHNA'S POV]

[NEXT DAY IN BRAHMA'S MOTHER TERESA ASHRAM]

The golden hues of the rising sun painted the horizon, casting a warm glow over the sprawling grounds of Mother Teresa Ashram. The air was crisp and carried the earthy scent of dew-kissed grass. Seated on a simple wooden bench outside, I wrapped my hands around a steaming cup of tea, letting its warmth seep into my fingers. The tranquility of the morning was a stark contrast to the storm brewing in my mind.

Brahma sat beside me, his presence as steady as the ancient trees surrounding us. His trusted men, Koti and Reddy, stood a few steps away, their watchful eyes scanning the peaceful surroundings. Brahma's calm demeanor was deceptive; beneath it lay the mind of a man who always stayed ten steps ahead.

The silence between us was broken by his deep voice. "Where are they?" Brahma asked, his tone low but carrying a note of impatience.

I glanced at him, setting my cup down gently on the bench beside me. "They'll be here any minute," I replied, my voice measured. Brahma gave a slow nod, his gaze drifting back to the horizon, as if contemplating something beyond the reach of mortal concerns.

The minutes stretched, punctuated only by the soft chirping of birds greeting the dawn. I took another sip of my tea, savoring its warmth as I tried to prepare myself for the discussion ahead. The stillness of the moment felt fragile, like the calm before a tempest.

And then, in the distance, the low hum of an engine disrupted the serenity. A car pulled up to the ashram gates, its sleek frame catching the first light of the day. It rolled to a stop a short distance from us, and the doors opened in unison. One by one, Athreya, Sneha, Vamsi, and Bobby stepped out, their expressions a mix of weariness and determination. They moved with purpose, their strides quick and sure as they approached.

As I saw them approaching, I rose from my seat, a warm smile spreading across my face. The sight of the four of them—Athreya, Sneha, Vamsi, and Bobby—felt like a long-awaited reunion. I walked straight toward Athreya, arms slightly outstretched, as though ready to embrace him. But at the last moment, I veered slightly, wrapping my arms gently around Sneha instead.

"How's my sister doing?" I asked warmly, holding her in a light hug. "Everything going well, Sneha?"

She returned the hug, her smile soft but tired. "Everything's going well," she replied, her voice calm, though the weariness was evident.

Before I could respond, Athreya chimed in from the side, his tone dry and laced with sarcasm. "Oh yes, everything's just fine—a long journey, no sleep, and now this case. Perfectly well."

I rolled my eyes dramatically, letting out a small laugh as I released Sneha. "Don't worry, Agent, I'll have someone fix you a strong cup of coffee later," I teased, turning to greet Vamsi and Bobby with brief but heartfelt hugs.

Together, we made our way back to where Brahma stood. He had risen from the bench, his imposing figure silhouetted against the golden light. His expression remained neutral, but there was a subtle shift in the air as we all gathered around him. The calm, almost playful atmosphere evaporated, replaced by something heavier.

I turned to Athreya, meeting his steady gaze. "So?" I asked, cutting straight to the point.

Without a word, Athreya pulled a slim file from the folds of his jacket and tossed it toward me. My reflexes took over, and I caught it mid-air. His voice, sharp and unwavering, broke the silence.

"You were right," he said simply. "It was murder."

The weight of his words sank in immediately, a stone dropped into the still waters of the morning. Brahma and I exchanged a glance, the unspoken understanding passing between us like a silent agreement.

I opened the file and began to read through the pages, my eyes skimming over the details, each line weighing heavier than the last. As the realization set in, I let out a long, slow sigh, my breath escaping in a mix of frustration and disbelief. It was more than I had expected—more than I had feared. I passed the file to Brahma without a word. His eyes flickered to the papers, and he began to read, his face expressionless, but I could see the subtle tremor in his hands, the quiet rage building within him. It was a controlled fury, the kind I knew he had mastered over the years.

The silence between us thickened. The tension in the air was palpable, the morning sun doing little to ease the growing sense of unease. Brahma's eyes never left the file as he closed it, his jaw set tight. He stood, calm on the outside, but I could feel the storm inside him. His anger was simmering just beneath the surface.

I couldn't wait any longer. The weight of the situation pressed against me, and I turned to Bobby. "Bobby, I told you to do something. Did you do it?"

Bobby met my gaze, his expression steady. "It's done," he replied with quiet assurance.

"Who?" I asked, needing to know more, needing confirmation.

Bobby's gaze shifted toward Koti, who stood at the edge of the group. There was a brief moment of confusion in Koti's eyes before he seemed to shrink under the weight of our collective stare. His nervousness was palpable, and his voice faltered as he spoke.

"Wh—what are you talking about? I—I don't understand," Koti stammered, backing away slightly.

I didn't waste any time. "Reddy," I said, my voice cutting through the air like a blade.

Reddy, ever loyal, responded immediately. He moved with purpose, his hands grabbing Koti by the neck with a force that made Koti gasp for air. In one swift motion, Reddy lifted Koti off the ground and threw him down onto the dirt, the sound of his body hitting the earth echoing in the stillness of the morning.

Koti cried out in pain, scrambling to get back on his feet, but the fear was clear in his eyes now. He looked desperately at Brahma, his voice shaking as he pleaded, "Bhiyya, what is happening? Please, help me. Please."

But Brahma didn't move. He didn't say a word. His gaze was cold, unwavering, as if Koti's cries were nothing more than background noise. The silence between them was deafening.

I stepped forward, my gaze never leaving Brahma's face. "So you know about this?" I asked, the question heavy with accusation.

Brahma nodded slowly, his eyes not leaving Koti, who was now writhing on the ground, desperate and broken.

I couldn't contain the sigh that left my lips. It was a mixture of disappointment, frustration, and something deeper—something that had been building ever since this whole mess started.

Koti's eyes widened in terror as Reddy took a step forward, each movement calculated and deliberate. Koti's breath quickened, his voice rising in panic. "Please, Bhiyya! Help me!" His words were laced with fear, desperation leaking from his every syllable. His body trembled as he stared up at Reddy, who, with a cold, unflinching expression, continued to close the distance between them.

"What are you doing, Reddy? Stop! Don't come any closer!" Koti shouted, his voice cracking, but Reddy showed no signs of slowing down. The silence that followed was only broken by the heavy sound of Koti's ragged breathing.

In a fluid motion, Reddy grabbed Koti by the collar and punched him in the face, the force behind each blow reverberating in the air. Koti's body jerked with each impact, his cries swallowed by the weight of Reddy's rage. The blood splattered, staining Koti's face, a stark reminder of the betrayal that had brought us to this moment.

"That's enough, Reddy," I said, my voice calm but firm. The words hung in the air, and Reddy, hearing the command, paused. His fist hovered in the air for a moment, but he obeyed without hesitation. The tension remained thick, like the calm before a storm, and I walked forward, the sound of my steps loud against the quiet of the ashram.

Koti, now sitting in the dirt, his face bloodied, looked up at me with wide, frightened eyes. The others from the ashram were slowly emerging, drawn by the noise, but they were mostly older members, busy tending to children. They wouldn't be able to intervene in this. I knew I had their attention, but there was no turning back now.

I crouched down, leveling my gaze with his. "Tell me, Koti," I said softly, my voice carrying the weight of the moment. "Why did you betray Brahma? Why did you help Jaidev?"

Koti's body stiffened at my words, and he froze, as if the question itself had struck him harder than Reddy's punches. He hesitated, his lips trembling as he searched for an answer. "I... I—"

His stammer was all I needed to see. There was fear in his eyes, but there was also something else—something deeper, something he was unwilling to face. The truth. He knew it, but he was too afraid to speak it.

I sighed, my frustration surfacing in the form of a heavy exhale. There was only so much patience I had left. The truth had to come out, and it had to come out now.

I motioned toward Vamsi, who stood a few paces away. His eyes were sharp, his hand already moving to his side as if he had been expecting this. He pulled out his gun and handed it to me without a word, his face unwavering, though I could sense the weight of the situation in his posture.

I took the gun, feeling the cold metal in my grip, the weight of it both comforting and disconcerting. The gun was an extension of my will, a tool in this moment, nothing more.

The cold metal of the gun pressed against Koti's forehead, my grip firm and unyielding. His eyes were wide with terror, his body trembling beneath my touch. "You see," I began, my voice low and lethal, "I'm not as patient as Brahma. So you better speak quickly, or I won't hesitate to end this."

Koti's breath hitched, his voice cracking as he stammered, almost in tears, "P-please don't kill me. I-I did this just for money. Please, I'm sorry, I was wrong…" His voice broke as he spoke the words, each one falling like an apology wrapped in fear.

I tightened my grip on his collar, my anger flaring. "Seriously? For money?" I spat, fury seething beneath my words. "Brahma treated you like his brother, and you betrayed him—betrayed him—just for money? You…" My finger hovered dangerously over the trigger, the weight of the decision pressing down on me. I was seconds away from ending it.

But before I could pull the trigger, a voice broke through the tension—a soft, pained plea that stopped me cold.

"Please stop…"

The voice was weak, sad, and full of fear. It cut through the air like a knife, and I froze, my hand dropping just an inch. I turned, my eyes searching the direction the voice had come from.

A woman emerged from the shadows of the ashram, her movements slow and heavy. She was pregnant, her figure tired, her face drawn with exhaustion. The sight of her sent a sharp pang of discomfort through me. She moved swiftly toward Brahma, her body trembling as she collapsed at his feet, her hands reaching out to grasp his legs, her sobs racking her frame.

"Please, Bhiyya…" she cried, her voice laced with desperation. "Please don't kill him. Please…"

Brahma, seeing Renuka collapse at his feet, moved quickly. His expression shifted from one of controlled rage to something softer, something more vulnerable. "Renuka, what are you doing? Get up, please," he said, his voice gentle but firm. He reached down, his large hand pulling her up from the ground with surprising tenderness.

Renuka's sobs pierced through the heavy silence, her words trembling as they left her lips. "Please, Bhiyya... let him go. If you don't, your nephew will grow up without a father..." Her hands, shaking and swollen from her pregnancy, rested on her belly. "Koti is my husband, please don't kill him. He told me... he told me to tell you that my husband left me, so that you let me stay here... Please, Bhiyya, don't take him away from me."

The plea, raw and heart-wrenching, hung in the air like a silent cry for mercy. Her eyes locked with Brahma's, full of desperation and love for the man she had chosen, despite the betrayal, despite the pain. Her voice wavered as she clung to her last hope, her desperation for the family she had left, for the child she was carrying, pushing her to the brink.

Brahma's hand slowly fell from Renuka's arm, his posture tense, and I knew, despite his earlier anger, he was broken inside. He let out a long sigh, heavy with the weight of decisions he wished he didn't have to make.

"Krishna," he said, his voice softer now, weighed down by the turmoil in his heart. "Let him go."

I didn't answer right away. My gaze stayed fixed on Koti, who was still kneeling on the ground, his body bloodied and battered but his life still intact. The thought of letting him go, of sparing him after everything, didn't sit well with me. But the look in Renuka's eyes—vulnerable and desperate, filled with the raw hope of a wife and mother—shifted something inside me.

With a deep, reluctant sigh, I lowered the gun from Koti's head, the weight of the decision pressing heavily on my chest. "You're safe... for now," I said, my voice low but firm. "But remember this, Koti. You're alive because of her. I don't give second chances, and I don't forget easily. Don't make me regret this."

Koti, still trembling, nodded frantically, his eyes wide with both relief and fear. "I-I won't, Bhai... I won't."

I turned to Reddy, who had been standing silent, his eyes hard, watching the exchange with a mixture of concern and duty. "Take him inside. Get him cleaned up," I ordered. Reddy gave a curt nod and immediately moved to grab Koti, who didn't resist. It was clear he was more than willing to comply, just happy to be alive.

Once they were gone, I returned the gun to Vamsi, who had been standing quietly, ready for whatever came next. The weight of the weapon seemed to drain from my hands, leaving me with the same gnawing feeling in my gut. Violence, though sometimes necessary, always left a bitter taste behind.

The rest of the Ashram began to return to normal, the hush lifting, though the atmosphere still felt heavy, as though the earth itself was holding its breath. Brahma looked at me, his expression unreadable, though I could see the weariness in his eyes. The toll of leadership, the burden of making hard choices—he carried it with a grace few could understand.

"What next?" he asked, his voice quiet, as if the question itself weighed more than it should.

I nodded slowly, a quiet understanding passing between me and Brahma. The weight of the situation settled on me, but there was no time for hesitation. My attention shifted to Athreya, who stood silently at my side, holding a file and a pendrive.

I took the items from Athreya. The files contained the dark secrets that I knew would shake the foundations of Andhra Pradesh's political landscape. The pendrive held irrefutable proof of the corruption, the illegal dealings, and the power games played by the very people who should have been protecting the citizens.

Brahma's brow furrowed in curiosity as he watched me handle the items. "What is that?" His voice was steady, but I could hear the underlying concern. The stakes were high, and I could feel the anticipation building in the air, thick with tension.

I looked at him, meeting his gaze with quiet resolve. "It's a little gift for Andhra Pradesh—something the MLAs and the members of the CM positions will never forget." I let the words hang in the air for a moment, knowing their weight would sink in. Brahma's eyes flickered with understanding as the full extent of what I was about to do became clear.

The file contained detailed records, names, dates, and irrefutable evidence of every illegal deal, every bribery, every underhanded action these men had taken to amass power. The pendrive, the true power in my hand, contained even more—audio files, videos, financial records, and testimonies that would destroy their careers and expose them for who they truly were.

Brahma's face darkened with a mix of admiration and caution. "You're going to bring this to light?"

I nodded, my mind already racing through the steps needed to set everything in motion. "Jaidev and Narayana Verma are heading to Mumbai for something. I don't know exactly what it is, but I know it's important. We need to keep an eye on them."

Turning to Athreya, Vamsi, Sneha, and Bobby, I gave them their orders, my voice steady despite the underlying urgency. "You're going to Mumbai. I've already arranged everything, At the Mumbai airport you'll meet someone named Daniyal—he's the branch director of Nirvana. He's the one who'll help you with everything you need."

Their eyes met mine, each of them silently acknowledging the weight of the task ahead.

"Go get some rest, freshen up. Your flight is at 9 AM," I said, my voice quieter now, as I turned to head inside. The clock was ticking, and we had no time to waste.

(A/N: If you'd like to support me, please use this UPI: omgadekar29@oksbi "Om Gadekar". If you do, please let me know your webnovel name so I can recognize you.)

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