A headache pounds my skull from going to bed so late yesterday. It’s a miracle I fell asleep at all. Last night was awful. A nightmare, where I thought I lost Kian for good.
I should’ve known he’d find out the truth.
Secrets have a way of coming out at an unfortunate time. A lesson I learned when Nathan outed my stalker tendencies to Kian.
I’ve been given a second chance. I’ll never repeat my mistake. I feel it in my bones that nothing could push Kian away as long as I’m honest with him. I’ll kill myself before I hurt him like that again. Telling him everything was the right thing to do.
Throwing off the covers, I climb out of the bed and exit the room. I search downstairs for Kian with no luck. A trickle of sweat runs down my back in apprehension as I hurry upstairs to check for him in his office.
My gut bottoms out when it’s empty.
Where did he go? Surely, he wouldn’t go after Arjun himself. He promised he’d let the CBI do their job and stay out of danger and the limelight.
God knows there will be a ruckus once the news blows up the entire country, taking his company’s name through the mud. I might be able to controlSahara Times, but not what the rest of the media circus says. Instead of focusing on the victims, they’ll use Kian and his company’s name as clickbait. As if we didn’t suffer enough through public scrutiny after announcing our relationship.
Running back to the living room, where I put my phone, I grab and unlock it. My stomach churns as I notice several missed calls from Bianca and Rosalie, one from Harshita, but none from Kian.
I dial his number first. It rings, causing panic to bubble up in my chest, before going straight to voicemail. Dread makes itself home, but I take a deep breath and go online.
Something tells me my suspicions are going to be proven correct.
Notifications blast my phone, making my pulse jump. I read the headline of an article from one of the news reporting channels I follow.
Dead body found at the home of a former executive assistant of Kinetic Securities.
Sources confirm homicide is part of a dangerous racketeering chain being run by a deadly organization.
My palm becomes slippery as I open the article. A cry of relief and sadness bursts from my lips as the body is identified as Rhea’s, not Yukta's. As I continue to read, bile rises in my throat at the details of how Rhea was brutally tortured and killed.
I would’ve had the same fate if I hadn’t managed to escape the man in the alley.
Each headline is worse. Everyone is talking about it.
Arjun Patel, a former executive of Kian Singhania, taken into custody for the murder of another employee at Kinetic Securities.
A potential trafficking racket being run inside Kinetic Securities.
Eight victims viciously torn from society.
Slumping onto the couch, I call Harshita to learn the actual truth.
“Iris,” she says.
I ask a string of questions. “Did they find Yukta? Was Vicky involved?”
“They’re still looking for the remaining girls, including Yukta,” she answers remotely. “Yes, Vicky and Arjun were working together in befriending and kidnapping the girls. It seems Vicky spilled all the beans. They’re both being interrogated.”
“Oh my god! Why would they do this?”
“Money. Both had offshore accounts with the receipt of wire transfers every time a girl was delivered.”
Sometimes women are women’s worst enemy.
“We wouldn’t have caught them if it weren’t for you, Iris,” Harshita praises. “I think I can get you the job offer…”
“No,” I cut her off. “I’ve changed my mind.”
“Does this mean you don’t want your name in the article that I will publish?”
