06-09-2025, 11:58 PM
(This post was last modified: 06-09-2025, 11:59 PM by Harry Jordan. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
(CHAPTER CONTD)
THE NEXT DAY
The clatter of trays and hum of chatter filled the office café near TANISHQ, a familiar environment where secrets could wear masks of laughter. Meghna’s heels clicked against the polished floor as her eyes sought her prey. And there she was—Sonarika. Graceful, professional, almost radiant in her navy blazer. Meghna had expected a wreck, a woman hollowed by guilt and divorce papers. Instead, she found strength, and that unnerved her.
"Sonarika!"
Meghna called out, layering her voice with sweetness that tasted of poison to her own tongue. Sonarika turned, her expression softening into a genuine smile.
"Meghna? You’re here! God, it feels like years"
They embraced like sisters, as though their shared history wasn’t tangled in betrayal and blood. Meghna breathed in the scent of Sonarika’s perfume and thought of Samhita’s last cry on that trek in the mountains—snuffed out by her own hands.
"You still love this corner table" Meghna said as they sat down, putting on her practiced grin.
"You and your routines never change"
Sonarika chuckled.
"Well, some things need to stay constant in life, don’t they? Unlike the madness of corporate schedules"
Meghna sipped her coffee, lying as effortlessly as she breathed.
"Mirror News Network has me running ragged. Just finished a big Kolkata story on art and investments. Barely slept"
"That sounds like you" Sonarika replied warmly.
"Always chasing something big"
"And you?" Meghna tilted her head, studying her target.
"Tanishq must be keeping you busy. You look… grounded"
Sonarika’s gaze softened.
"It helps. Work keeps me sane"
Meghna let the silence stretch before striking.
"And Hemant? How’s he doing?"
The pause that followed was heavy. Sonarika exhaled slowly.
"He filed for divorce"
Meghna widened her eyes in feigned shock, though victory sparked in her veins.
"Sonarika, I’m… so sorry. But maybe it’s a blessing. Now you can finally be free. With Vikram by your side, everything will change"
But Sonarika’s eyes hardened.
"No, Meghna. That’s not why it happened. I told him the truth. I confessed about Vikram. I couldn’t keep lying to him. Not to Hemant"
Meghna leaned forward, voice laced with sharpness.
"That was a mistake. A colossal mistake. You don’t throw your marriage away by handing a man your sins on a platter"
Sonarika’s chin lifted.
"It wasn’t about throwing it away. It was about honesty. Whatever else Hemant may be, he deserved the truth. And I—"
Her voice broke briefly.
"I deserved to stop living in shadows"
Meghna’s fingers tapped the table in agitation.
"What about Karan? How will custody work out in this chaos?"
"We agreed on joint custody" Sonarika replied firmly.
"It’s what’s best for him"
"No" Meghna snapped, the venom slipping through her velvet mask.
"Don’t let Hemant take him. He failed you as a husband; he will fail as a father. Courts will side with you, Sonarika. You could have Karan. You could even claim part of YOD Industries. You’d be untouchable"
The fury in Sonarika’s eyes was sudden, startling.
"Stop it, Meghna. I am not that woman. This isn’t about punishing Hemant. It isn’t about money. It isn’t even about love or feelings. What happened is my fault, and I will carry that weight. Neither Hemant nor Karan deserves to pay for it"
Meghna froze, the certainty in Sonarika’s voice slicing through her like steel.
"You’d rather punish yourself? Why?"
"Because I need to heal" Sonarika said simply.
"I’ve started therapy. I’m trying to find balance, to find some sanity. I won’t keep spiraling"
The words echoed in Meghna’s skull, turning her blood cold. Therapy. Healing. Progress. This wasn’t collapse. This wasn’t ruin. This was Sonarika crawling out of the pit Meghna had spent years digging for her.
"You don’t need therapy" Meghna hissed, mask cracking.
"You need happiness. You need Vikram. He is your freedom, Sonarika"
But Sonarika shook her head, steady as stone.
"No, Meghna. Before anyone else, I need myself. Only then will I know who I truly love. Only then will I stop hurting people"
Meghna’s nails dug into her palm under the table, leaving crescent wounds.
"Who planted this poison in your head?" she demanded.
Sonarika blinked, almost puzzled.
"Poison? Meghna, it’s the first time I’ve felt clarity in years. It was Ragini. She guided me. If it weren’t for her, I would have lost myself long ago"
Ragini. The name fell like a dagger. Meghna’s vision blurred at the edges, fury flooding her veins. This Ragini had undone everything. Years of manipulation, carefully orchestrated ruin, all slipping because of some meddling savior.
"Ragini" Meghna repeated, her tone deceptively calm though her mind screamed.
"How… noble of her"
Sonarika smiled faintly.
"Yes. Noble. She gave me hope when I had none. Everyone needs someone like her in their lives"
The words sealed Meghna’s rage. As Sonarika rose, thanking her for lunch and promising to meet again, Meghna’s smile lingered like a mask carved in porcelain. But inside, the storm shifted. Sonarika would not shatter. Not yet. But Ragini—Ragini had made herself the true enemy. As Sonarika’s heels clicked away, Meghna whispered under her breath, unheard by anyone but herself:
'Then Ragini will pay'
The café door shut behind Sonarika, leaving Meghna alone with the bitter taste of defeat clinging to her tongue. The clatter of cups, the hum of office laughter—it all blurred, drowned beneath the roaring tide of fury rising in her chest. Therapy. Healing. Ragini. That name lingered like acid, corroding every ounce of satisfaction she thought she’d savor today.
For years, Meghna had been the unseen puppeteer—pulling strings with precision, weaving lies into Sonarika’s veins until she danced to her rhythm. And yet, one woman, one outsider, had dared to sever those strings.
Ragini. The savior. The redeemer. The parasite.
Meghna clenched her fists, nails biting skin until warm dots of blood surfaced. She welcomed the sting; it reminded her she was alive, that vengeance had not abandoned her.
'You think you can undo me, Ragini?'
She whispered under her breath, voice low and trembling with rage.
'You think you can rewrite Sonarika’s story?'
She leaned back in her chair, mind racing. Ragini’s life wasn’t a mystery. Meghna had followed her rise in the business pages—once a meek wife in an abusive marriage, now the iron-willed founder of a textile empire stretching across the country. A phoenix, they called her. And now, Ragini played savior to another fallen woman. That was what sickened Meghna most. Of course Ragini would see Sonarika as a reflection of her younger self. Of course she would meddle, blind to the truth that Sonarika wasn’t a victim—she was a sinner, a liar, a cheater whose descent had been orchestrated with meticulous cruelty. Meghna’s cruelty.
'She’s not yours to save'
Meghna hissed, her reflection in the café window showing her teeth clenched, her eyes burning.
'She’s mine to break'
But Sonarika’s defiance earlier replayed in her mind.
No, Meghna. I need myself first. I need the truth.
Words that tasted of Ragini’s poison. The very thought made Meghna’s stomach knot with rage. It wasn’t enough to silence Ragini. No—Meghna needed to dismantle her. To rip apart everything she had built, piece by piece, until the phoenix burned again in her own ashes. Her mind shifted into strategy, the way it always had when she plotted Sonarika’s ruin. She thought of Ragini’s company—a textile brand rooted in Goa, spreading into metro markets. Vulnerable to scandal, to whispers of corruption, to whispers of exploitation. In business, reputation was everything.
And Ragini? She had rebuilt her identity on resilience, on being the symbol of survival. If Meghna could stain that image, drag it through the mud, Ragini wouldn’t just lose her empire. She’d lose her story.
'Every savior has a weakness' Meghna murmured, swirling the cold coffee in her cup.
'Every fortress has a crack. And I’ll find yours, Ragini'
The irony wasn’t lost on her—Ragini, who had clawed her way out of abuse, now painting Sonarika as the same. The hypocrisy made Meghna want to laugh.
'Do you even know what she is?' she whispered to the empty chair Sonarika had vacated.
'Do you know how many nights she’s spent tangled with Vikram because I guided her there? You foolish woman—you’re polishing poison and calling it gold'
The more she spoke to herself, the clearer the plan became. She wouldn’t confront Ragini directly. No, confrontation was for the weak. Meghna excelled in shadows. She would study Ragini, learn her habits, her contacts, her vulnerabilities. The fall would be engineered so perfectly that when it came, Ragini wouldn’t even know whose hand had pushed her.
And Sonarika? Meghna smirked bitterly. Sonarika would watch her beloved guide crumble. The woman she credited with her sanity would be exposed as a fraud, a failure, a disgrace. The therapy, the healing—it would all collapse with Ragini’s name. Meghna’s pulse quickened with the thrill of a new game. It was no longer about Sonarika’s slow ruin. No, the target had shifted, the board had expanded. This was about vengeance against the thief who dared to steal her prey’s downfall.
She stood, adjusting her blazer, her expression once again serene and unreadable. To anyone watching, she was just another professional leaving after a quiet lunch. But inside, she was a storm.
'Enjoy your empire while it lasts, Ragini'
Meghna whispered to the air as she stepped out of the café.
'Because I will take it apart, brick by brick, until your ashes match Samhita’s'
FEW DAYS LATER , A DARK DAY!
The evening air of Mumbai was buzzing with life as Sonarika held Karan’s hand, carrying bags filled with groceries and toys. The boy’s laughter rang out as he waved his new toy car, tugging at his mother’s arm.
"Mumma, look! This one goes faster than the red one!" he squealed with delight.
Sonarika smiled warmly, brushing his hair aside.
"Yes, my champion. Papa will be proud to see your race tonight"
The atmosphere was light, unaware of the darkness about to descend. A screech of tires tore through the crowd. A black SUV halted violently at the market’s entrance, scattering pedestrians. The doors slammed open and a group of rugged men poured out, their presence suffocating. One of them, with a scar cutting across his face, pointed directly at Sonarika.
"You! Come with us quietly" he barked.
Karan clutched his mother’s saree, trembling, but Sonarika stood her ground, her voice firm.
"Who the hell are you? Get away from me and my son"
The scarred goon smirked, stepping closer, his stench of alcohol invading her breath. He reached for her arm, but she slapped his hand away.
"Don’t touch me" The crowd froze, whispers circling, but no one intervened. Another goon sneered.
"She’s got spirit. Break it"
His hand gripped her shoulder harshly. Sonarika’s eyes flared. In one swift move, she pulled out her pepper spray and blasted it into his face. He shrieked, clawing at his burning eyes as the others cursed and surged forward.
"Karan, run!"
Sonarika yelled, shoving one of the men back. She clutched her son’s tiny hand and bolted through the narrow market lane. But the goons were faster, cutting her off. A fist smashed into her stomach, knocking the wind out of her as she collapsed to her knees. Karan screamed, throwing his little fists at the thug who hit his mother.
"Leave her! Leave my mumma!"
He cried, pounding on the man’s leg. The goons laughed cruelly. One of them shoved Karan to the ground, but the boy got up again, charging back at them through tears.
"Let her go!"
His voice cracked, his small frame trembling with rage. A heavy backhand struck his face, sending him sprawling. Another grabbed him by the collar and hurled him several feet away.
"Filthy brat" The goon spat.
Karan’s head hit the rough ground, his cries now ragged and broken. Sonarika’s scream split the night.
"KARAN! Don’t touch him, you monsters!"
Her pleas drowned as two men pinned her arms, dragging her toward the SUV. She kicked and thrashed, her bangles shattering, blood streaking her wrist.
"Somebody help me! Please!!" She screamed into the indifferent crowd.
People averted their eyes, cowed by the glint of knives and metal rods flashing in the goons’ hands. Karan, crawling on his bruised knees, cried out.
"Mumma! Mumma!" as he chased after the men.
The SUV’s door slammed shut with Sonarika inside, her fists pounding on the tinted glass.
"Karan! My baby!" she wailed, as the engine roared and the vehicle lurched forward.
Karan stumbled after it, his small arms outstretched, tears blinding him.
"MUMMA! Don’t go! Please, don’t leave me!"
His voice cracked with desperation. He ran until his legs failed him, crashing onto the road, sobbing into the dust as the SUV disappeared into the disappearing light of the sun as it set. On the asphalt, Karan curled up, his body aching from the blows, his palms scbanging the gravel as he whispered through tears.
"Papa… help… please, Papa…"
END OF CHAPTER 22
The clatter of trays and hum of chatter filled the office café near TANISHQ, a familiar environment where secrets could wear masks of laughter. Meghna’s heels clicked against the polished floor as her eyes sought her prey. And there she was—Sonarika. Graceful, professional, almost radiant in her navy blazer. Meghna had expected a wreck, a woman hollowed by guilt and divorce papers. Instead, she found strength, and that unnerved her.
"Sonarika!"
Meghna called out, layering her voice with sweetness that tasted of poison to her own tongue. Sonarika turned, her expression softening into a genuine smile.
"Meghna? You’re here! God, it feels like years"
They embraced like sisters, as though their shared history wasn’t tangled in betrayal and blood. Meghna breathed in the scent of Sonarika’s perfume and thought of Samhita’s last cry on that trek in the mountains—snuffed out by her own hands.
"You still love this corner table" Meghna said as they sat down, putting on her practiced grin.
"You and your routines never change"
Sonarika chuckled.
"Well, some things need to stay constant in life, don’t they? Unlike the madness of corporate schedules"
Meghna sipped her coffee, lying as effortlessly as she breathed.
"Mirror News Network has me running ragged. Just finished a big Kolkata story on art and investments. Barely slept"
"That sounds like you" Sonarika replied warmly.
"Always chasing something big"
"And you?" Meghna tilted her head, studying her target.
"Tanishq must be keeping you busy. You look… grounded"
Sonarika’s gaze softened.
"It helps. Work keeps me sane"
Meghna let the silence stretch before striking.
"And Hemant? How’s he doing?"
The pause that followed was heavy. Sonarika exhaled slowly.
"He filed for divorce"
Meghna widened her eyes in feigned shock, though victory sparked in her veins.
"Sonarika, I’m… so sorry. But maybe it’s a blessing. Now you can finally be free. With Vikram by your side, everything will change"
But Sonarika’s eyes hardened.
"No, Meghna. That’s not why it happened. I told him the truth. I confessed about Vikram. I couldn’t keep lying to him. Not to Hemant"
Meghna leaned forward, voice laced with sharpness.
"That was a mistake. A colossal mistake. You don’t throw your marriage away by handing a man your sins on a platter"
Sonarika’s chin lifted.
"It wasn’t about throwing it away. It was about honesty. Whatever else Hemant may be, he deserved the truth. And I—"
Her voice broke briefly.
"I deserved to stop living in shadows"
Meghna’s fingers tapped the table in agitation.
"What about Karan? How will custody work out in this chaos?"
"We agreed on joint custody" Sonarika replied firmly.
"It’s what’s best for him"
"No" Meghna snapped, the venom slipping through her velvet mask.
"Don’t let Hemant take him. He failed you as a husband; he will fail as a father. Courts will side with you, Sonarika. You could have Karan. You could even claim part of YOD Industries. You’d be untouchable"
The fury in Sonarika’s eyes was sudden, startling.
"Stop it, Meghna. I am not that woman. This isn’t about punishing Hemant. It isn’t about money. It isn’t even about love or feelings. What happened is my fault, and I will carry that weight. Neither Hemant nor Karan deserves to pay for it"
Meghna froze, the certainty in Sonarika’s voice slicing through her like steel.
"You’d rather punish yourself? Why?"
"Because I need to heal" Sonarika said simply.
"I’ve started therapy. I’m trying to find balance, to find some sanity. I won’t keep spiraling"
The words echoed in Meghna’s skull, turning her blood cold. Therapy. Healing. Progress. This wasn’t collapse. This wasn’t ruin. This was Sonarika crawling out of the pit Meghna had spent years digging for her.
"You don’t need therapy" Meghna hissed, mask cracking.
"You need happiness. You need Vikram. He is your freedom, Sonarika"
But Sonarika shook her head, steady as stone.
"No, Meghna. Before anyone else, I need myself. Only then will I know who I truly love. Only then will I stop hurting people"
Meghna’s nails dug into her palm under the table, leaving crescent wounds.
"Who planted this poison in your head?" she demanded.
Sonarika blinked, almost puzzled.
"Poison? Meghna, it’s the first time I’ve felt clarity in years. It was Ragini. She guided me. If it weren’t for her, I would have lost myself long ago"
Ragini. The name fell like a dagger. Meghna’s vision blurred at the edges, fury flooding her veins. This Ragini had undone everything. Years of manipulation, carefully orchestrated ruin, all slipping because of some meddling savior.
"Ragini" Meghna repeated, her tone deceptively calm though her mind screamed.
"How… noble of her"
Sonarika smiled faintly.
"Yes. Noble. She gave me hope when I had none. Everyone needs someone like her in their lives"
The words sealed Meghna’s rage. As Sonarika rose, thanking her for lunch and promising to meet again, Meghna’s smile lingered like a mask carved in porcelain. But inside, the storm shifted. Sonarika would not shatter. Not yet. But Ragini—Ragini had made herself the true enemy. As Sonarika’s heels clicked away, Meghna whispered under her breath, unheard by anyone but herself:
'Then Ragini will pay'
The café door shut behind Sonarika, leaving Meghna alone with the bitter taste of defeat clinging to her tongue. The clatter of cups, the hum of office laughter—it all blurred, drowned beneath the roaring tide of fury rising in her chest. Therapy. Healing. Ragini. That name lingered like acid, corroding every ounce of satisfaction she thought she’d savor today.
For years, Meghna had been the unseen puppeteer—pulling strings with precision, weaving lies into Sonarika’s veins until she danced to her rhythm. And yet, one woman, one outsider, had dared to sever those strings.
Ragini. The savior. The redeemer. The parasite.
Meghna clenched her fists, nails biting skin until warm dots of blood surfaced. She welcomed the sting; it reminded her she was alive, that vengeance had not abandoned her.
'You think you can undo me, Ragini?'
She whispered under her breath, voice low and trembling with rage.
'You think you can rewrite Sonarika’s story?'
She leaned back in her chair, mind racing. Ragini’s life wasn’t a mystery. Meghna had followed her rise in the business pages—once a meek wife in an abusive marriage, now the iron-willed founder of a textile empire stretching across the country. A phoenix, they called her. And now, Ragini played savior to another fallen woman. That was what sickened Meghna most. Of course Ragini would see Sonarika as a reflection of her younger self. Of course she would meddle, blind to the truth that Sonarika wasn’t a victim—she was a sinner, a liar, a cheater whose descent had been orchestrated with meticulous cruelty. Meghna’s cruelty.
'She’s not yours to save'
Meghna hissed, her reflection in the café window showing her teeth clenched, her eyes burning.
'She’s mine to break'
But Sonarika’s defiance earlier replayed in her mind.
No, Meghna. I need myself first. I need the truth.
Words that tasted of Ragini’s poison. The very thought made Meghna’s stomach knot with rage. It wasn’t enough to silence Ragini. No—Meghna needed to dismantle her. To rip apart everything she had built, piece by piece, until the phoenix burned again in her own ashes. Her mind shifted into strategy, the way it always had when she plotted Sonarika’s ruin. She thought of Ragini’s company—a textile brand rooted in Goa, spreading into metro markets. Vulnerable to scandal, to whispers of corruption, to whispers of exploitation. In business, reputation was everything.
And Ragini? She had rebuilt her identity on resilience, on being the symbol of survival. If Meghna could stain that image, drag it through the mud, Ragini wouldn’t just lose her empire. She’d lose her story.
'Every savior has a weakness' Meghna murmured, swirling the cold coffee in her cup.
'Every fortress has a crack. And I’ll find yours, Ragini'
The irony wasn’t lost on her—Ragini, who had clawed her way out of abuse, now painting Sonarika as the same. The hypocrisy made Meghna want to laugh.
'Do you even know what she is?' she whispered to the empty chair Sonarika had vacated.
'Do you know how many nights she’s spent tangled with Vikram because I guided her there? You foolish woman—you’re polishing poison and calling it gold'
The more she spoke to herself, the clearer the plan became. She wouldn’t confront Ragini directly. No, confrontation was for the weak. Meghna excelled in shadows. She would study Ragini, learn her habits, her contacts, her vulnerabilities. The fall would be engineered so perfectly that when it came, Ragini wouldn’t even know whose hand had pushed her.
And Sonarika? Meghna smirked bitterly. Sonarika would watch her beloved guide crumble. The woman she credited with her sanity would be exposed as a fraud, a failure, a disgrace. The therapy, the healing—it would all collapse with Ragini’s name. Meghna’s pulse quickened with the thrill of a new game. It was no longer about Sonarika’s slow ruin. No, the target had shifted, the board had expanded. This was about vengeance against the thief who dared to steal her prey’s downfall.
She stood, adjusting her blazer, her expression once again serene and unreadable. To anyone watching, she was just another professional leaving after a quiet lunch. But inside, she was a storm.
'Enjoy your empire while it lasts, Ragini'
Meghna whispered to the air as she stepped out of the café.
'Because I will take it apart, brick by brick, until your ashes match Samhita’s'
FEW DAYS LATER , A DARK DAY!
The evening air of Mumbai was buzzing with life as Sonarika held Karan’s hand, carrying bags filled with groceries and toys. The boy’s laughter rang out as he waved his new toy car, tugging at his mother’s arm.
"Mumma, look! This one goes faster than the red one!" he squealed with delight.
Sonarika smiled warmly, brushing his hair aside.
"Yes, my champion. Papa will be proud to see your race tonight"
The atmosphere was light, unaware of the darkness about to descend. A screech of tires tore through the crowd. A black SUV halted violently at the market’s entrance, scattering pedestrians. The doors slammed open and a group of rugged men poured out, their presence suffocating. One of them, with a scar cutting across his face, pointed directly at Sonarika.
"You! Come with us quietly" he barked.
Karan clutched his mother’s saree, trembling, but Sonarika stood her ground, her voice firm.
"Who the hell are you? Get away from me and my son"
The scarred goon smirked, stepping closer, his stench of alcohol invading her breath. He reached for her arm, but she slapped his hand away.
"Don’t touch me" The crowd froze, whispers circling, but no one intervened. Another goon sneered.
"She’s got spirit. Break it"
His hand gripped her shoulder harshly. Sonarika’s eyes flared. In one swift move, she pulled out her pepper spray and blasted it into his face. He shrieked, clawing at his burning eyes as the others cursed and surged forward.
"Karan, run!"
Sonarika yelled, shoving one of the men back. She clutched her son’s tiny hand and bolted through the narrow market lane. But the goons were faster, cutting her off. A fist smashed into her stomach, knocking the wind out of her as she collapsed to her knees. Karan screamed, throwing his little fists at the thug who hit his mother.
"Leave her! Leave my mumma!"
He cried, pounding on the man’s leg. The goons laughed cruelly. One of them shoved Karan to the ground, but the boy got up again, charging back at them through tears.
"Let her go!"
His voice cracked, his small frame trembling with rage. A heavy backhand struck his face, sending him sprawling. Another grabbed him by the collar and hurled him several feet away.
"Filthy brat" The goon spat.
Karan’s head hit the rough ground, his cries now ragged and broken. Sonarika’s scream split the night.
"KARAN! Don’t touch him, you monsters!"
Her pleas drowned as two men pinned her arms, dragging her toward the SUV. She kicked and thrashed, her bangles shattering, blood streaking her wrist.
"Somebody help me! Please!!" She screamed into the indifferent crowd.
People averted their eyes, cowed by the glint of knives and metal rods flashing in the goons’ hands. Karan, crawling on his bruised knees, cried out.
"Mumma! Mumma!" as he chased after the men.
The SUV’s door slammed shut with Sonarika inside, her fists pounding on the tinted glass.
"Karan! My baby!" she wailed, as the engine roared and the vehicle lurched forward.
Karan stumbled after it, his small arms outstretched, tears blinding him.
"MUMMA! Don’t go! Please, don’t leave me!"
His voice cracked with desperation. He ran until his legs failed him, crashing onto the road, sobbing into the dust as the SUV disappeared into the disappearing light of the sun as it set. On the asphalt, Karan curled up, his body aching from the blows, his palms scbanging the gravel as he whispered through tears.
"Papa… help… please, Papa…"
END OF CHAPTER 22
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