When the pillar broke, it revealed a shocking sight: a bundle of money, jewelry boxes, and documents. Shruti and her mother's eyes widened in stunned silence, their minds struggling to comprehend the unexpected revelation. Shruti's blood ran cold as she took in the sight, her heart racing with a mix of fear and confusion.
Her mother turned to her father, her voice trembling with shock and anger. "What is this?!" she demanded, but her father remained silent, his eyes fixed on the floor. Her mother's voice rose in desperation. "Why aren't you saying anything? What the hell is this?!" she asked again, her words laced with a mix of fear and betrayal.
Shruti quickly grabbed her mother, trying to calm her down. "Mom, please calm down!" she pleaded, holding her close. Her mother burst into tears, burying her head in Shruti's arms, and Shruti rubbed her back soothingly, trying to comfort her.
The officers, meanwhile, began to examine the findings, counting the cash, weighing the jewelry, and going through the documents. After a few minutes, they came over to the family, their faces stern and serious.
"We have to arrest you, Mr. Singh," one of the officers declared. Shruti stepped forward, trying to intervene. "Sir, please, there must be a way," she pleaded, her voice filled with desperation.
The officer's expression was unyielding. "There is only one way, Miss Singh, and that is your father needs a good lawyer. But with the amount of evidence we've found..." He glanced at the heap of cash and gold. "Let's see what happens. But for now, we have to arrest him."
With that, the officers handcuffed Shruti's father, the sound of the metal clicking into place echoing through the room like a death knell. Shruti felt her world crumbling around her, the shock and uncertainty of the situation overwhelming her.
The officers took Shruti's father away, their stern faces leaving no room for argument. Shruti tried to reason with them, but they didn't listen, their minds made up. As the door closed behind them, Shruti felt a wave of panic wash over her. She knew she had to act fast.
She hurriedly pulled out her phone and dialed the only person she knew who could help her in this crisis – Aryan. The phone rang, and to her relief, Aryan picked up immediately.
Shruti poured out her heart to him, telling him everything that had happened since the income tax officers arrived. Aryan listened attentively, his voice calm and reassuring. When she finished, he promised to be there for her and help her navigate this mess.
An hour later, Shruti and Aryan sat in a lawyer's office, explaining their case to the seasoned professional. The lawyer listened intently, his eyes narrowing as he took in the details. Shruti felt a glimmer of hope as the lawyer nodded thoughtfully, his expression serious but not unsympathetic.
The lawyer's words hung in the air, his expression grave. "Look, Miss Singh, the amount your father has been hiding is not small," he said, his voice measured. "The income tax department found a sum worth 200 crore from him."
Shruti's eyes widened in shock, and Aryan's gaze snapped to hers, his face reflecting his own surprise. "200 crore?" Shruti repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. The sheer magnitude of the amount was staggering.
The lawyer's expression turned somber. "This case is critical," he warned. "I won't give you false hopes. I can't save him from punishment; nobody can. But I can try to decrease his sentence." His words were blunt, but not unkind.
Shruti felt her anxiety spike, her mind racing with the implications. She felt like she was losing her grip on reality. Aryan, sensing her distress, reached out and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. His touch was a lifeline, and Shruti clung to it, drawing comfort from his calm presence.
"What should we do then?" Aryan asked the lawyer, his brow furrowed with concern. The lawyer leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. "Well, if Mr. Singh apologizes, there's a slight chance that his punishment will be decreased." Aryan and Shruti exchanged a glance, weighing the lawyer's words.
After a little more discussion, they left the lawyer's office, the weight of their situation heavy on their shoulders. Inside the car, Aryan took the driver's seat, while Shruti sat beside him, lost in thought. They drove in silence for a while, the only sound the hum of the engine.
But Aryan couldn't bear the silence for long. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft. Shruti took a pause before replying, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know." She gazed out the window, her eyes fixed on some distant point.
Aryan sighed and pulled the car over to the side of the road. He turned to Shruti, his eyes filled with concern. "Can you please tell me what's happening?" he asked, his voice gentle. But Shruti didn't respond, her gaze still fixed on the floor.
Aryan took her hand, his touch warm and reassuring. "Shruti," he called out softly, trying to break through her silence. But Shruti remained still, her eyes cast downward. Just as Aryan was about to pull his hand away, he felt a drop of wetness on his skin. He looked up to see that Shruti was crying, tears streaming down her face.
Aryan's heart went out to her. He gently turned her face towards him, his fingers lightly brushing against her cheeks. As he met her gaze, he saw the depth of her pain and sadness, and his own heart ached with empathy.
He pulled her into a warm hug, and Shruti's fragile composure shattered. She burst into tears, her body shaking with sobs. Aryan held her close, gently ruffling her hair as he murmured soothing words. "There, there," he whispered, his voice a gentle balm to her frazzled nerves.
As the minutes passed, Shruti's tears began to subside, and she slowly regained control over her emotions. She pulled back, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. Aryan handed her a tissue, and she blew her nose, feeling a little more composed.
"Are you okay?" Aryan asked, his eyes searching hers. Shruti nodded, still sniffling. Aryan's expression softened. "Shruti, it's okay if you don't want to talk about it right now," he said gently. "Take your time. But whenever you feel like you want to talk, please call me first."
Shruti nodded, still wiping away her tears. Aryan's words were a comfort, a reminder that she wasn't alone in this. She felt grateful for his presence, his understanding, and his unwavering support.
"Did you hear anything from Roohi?" Shruti asked, her voice laced with curiosity. Aryan nodded, his expression somber. "I talked to her this morning," he replied.
"What did she say?" she asked, leaning forward slightly. Aryan's expression turned grave. "Well, she was crying too," he said, his voice low. "Siddharth was very angry last night. He...left for the US this morning."
Shruti's eyes widened in surprise. "The US?" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. Aryan nodded, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and understanding. "He said he wants to spend some time alone," he added. "He also told everyone not to contact him for a while."
Shruti's face fell as she processed the news. She had been hoping that Aryan might have some information about Siddharth's well-being, but now it seemed that she would be cut off from him entirely. The thought of not knowing how Siddharth was doing, or if he was okay, was unsettling. She felt a pang of sadness, wondering if she would ever be able to reach out to him again.
Aryan noticed the look of disappointment on Shruti's face and gently patted her head to comfort her. "I wanted to tell you something too," he said, his voice soft.
Shruti's curiosity was piqued. "What is it?" she asked, her eyes locking onto his. Aryan took a deep breath before speaking. "I'm leaving for London a day after tomorrow," he said, his words hanging in the air.
Shruti's eyes widened in surprise. "Why?" she asked, her voice filled with concern. Aryan explained, "It's for some business reasons. Dad wants me to handle our office in London." He paused, looking uncertain about how to continue. "I said I don't want to go right now because of you. But..."
Shruti cut him off, her expression understanding. "It's okay. I understand," she said softly. Aryan nodded, relief washing over his face. "Roohi is also leaving with me," he added.
Shruti's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "She too?" she asked, her voice filled with curiosity. Aryan nodded. "She said she wanted to study literature in London. And my parents suggested taking her with me."
Shruti's thoughts turned to Siddharth's father. "But then... Uncle would be all alone," she said, concern etched on her face. Aryan reassured her, "No, he would be living with a relative until Siddharth returns. And about the company, Siddharth will handle it from the US."
Shruti's smile was faint as she said, "Oh, guess everyone is leaving. I'll be all alone here." Aryan's expression turned serious. "You are not alone," he said firmly. "Call me anytime you want. And if needed, I will come to India. Don't ever think you are alone."
Shruti's heart warmed at his words, but she smiled and said, "I'll be fine. Don't worry."
The day of the hearing arrived, and the courtroom was filled with an air of anticipation. Everyone was seated, and Amrit Singh stood in the defendant's dock, his eyes fixed on the floor. The judge's voice rang out, his words echoing through the silent courtroom.
"Looking at all the evidence against Mr. Amrit Singh, the court orders him to pay a penalty of 60 crores and punish him for imprisonment of 7 years." The words hung in the air like a death sentence. The police stepped forward, their faces stern, and dragged Amrit Singh out of the courtroom.
Shruti's eyes were fixed on her mother, who was crying uncontrollably. She reached out and took her mother's hand, trying to offer what little comfort she could. "Mom, please stop crying, or else you'll fall sick," she said softly.
Shruti sighed, feeling helpless. As they left the courtroom and made their way home, she and her mother sat in the back seat of the car. Shruti gazed out the window, her mind racing with thoughts. Just a few days ago, everything had seemed perfect. She had been happy, carefree. But in an instant, everything had been turned upside down.
When they reached their estate, Shruti noticed a car parked outside. As they approached the main door, she saw a middle-aged man standing outside. It was Manish Basu, her father's secretary.
"Manish Uncle?" Shruti asked, surprised. Manish turned to her, his expression serious. "Oh, Shruti, I was waiting for you both. I need to talk to you urgently," he said.
Shruti nodded and escorted him inside. They sat down in the living room, with Shruti and her mother opposite Manish. "What did you want to talk about?" Shruti asked, her curiosity piqued.
Manish hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I know this is not the right time for this, but it is very urgent," he said. Shruti nodded, encouraging him to continue. "Please go ahead," she said, listening carefully.
Manish pulled out some files from his bag and showed them to Shruti. "These are the documents regarding the our company,Sunrise group that need to be signed urgently," he explained, going over the content of the documents with her.
Shruti looked at the documents, feeling overwhelmed. "But Uncle, how can I take such crucial decisions?" she asked, her voice filled with doubt.
Manish's expression turned serious. "Shruti, I know you have little experience in business, but this is a crucial time for the company. If things go like this, the company will be closed soon," he said.
Shruti's mother, Jyotsana, spoke up. "What are you suggesting?" she asked. Manish's eyes locked onto Shruti. "Mrs. Singh, I'm suggesting that it's time for Shruti to take the company's responsibilities on her shoulders," he said.
Shruti's eyes widened in shock. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Manish's words hung in the air like a challenge. "I'm asking you to take the CEO position," he said.
Shruti felt like she had been punched in the gut. "But... how can I..." she stammered. However, before she could continue, her mother grabbed her arm.
"He is right," Jyotsana said, her voice firm. Shruti looked at her mother in surprise. "Mom?" she asked, but Jyotsana's expression was resolute.
"You are our only heir. If someone can handle the responsibilities of the company in the absence of your father, it's only you," Jyotsana said.
Manish nodded in agreement. "Shruti beta, there's an old saying that 'If the king falls, the throne won't stay empty for long, better you claim it before an usurper does.' I hope you understand what I'm saying," he said.
Shruti's mind was racing as she pondered over his words. Manish stood up, his expression serious. "Tomorrow is the board meeting. I suggest you claim your position then," he said. With that, he nodded at Jyotsana and left, leaving Shruti to think about the weight of the responsibility that had been placed on her shoulders.
At night, Shruti sat in her room, gazing out the window at the moon's silvery glow. The peacefulness of the moment was interrupted by the ringing of her phone. She picked it up, and Aryan's voice was on the other end.
"I'm so sorry. I was busy with work," he said, apologizing for the delay in getting back to her. Shruti's response was soft. "It's okay, Aryan."
Aryan's curiosity got the better of him. "What happened at the hearing?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. Shruti took a deep breath and recounted everything that had transpired, from the court's verdict to Manish's visit and his surprising suggestion that she take on the CEO role.
Aryan listened attentively, offering his thoughts when she finished. "I think Manish Uncle is right. But it's totally up to you. The past few days have been very hard for you. You should do whatever you want," he said, his words a gentle reminder that the decision was hers alone.
Shruti sighed, feeling the weight of the decision settling on her shoulders. After a while, Aryan bid her farewell and hung up the call. Shruti wrapped her arms around herself, her gaze drifting back to the moon outside her window.
In the silence, her thoughts turned to Siddharth. "I miss you, Siddharth," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I wonder what you're doing right now," she added, her heart aching with a mix of sadness and longing. The moon watched over her, a silent witness to her emotions.
The next day, at the Imperial Tower, the boardroom was abuzz with activity. The large room was filled with members of the board, all seated around a massive oval table with leather chairs. Sunlight streamed in through the expansive windows, casting a warm glow over the proceedings. At the front of the room, a projector panel was fixed on the wall, and Manish stood before it, poised to begin the meeting.
"Let's start the board meeting," he announced, his voice clear and authoritative. However, before he could proceed, one of the board members spoke up. "How long do we have to do the meetings without the CEO?" he asked, his tone laced with frustration.
Manish looked up at him, his expression calm. But before he could respond, another member chimed in. "Mr. Basu, the company doesn't run without an owner. We need someone at the helm to make crucial decisions and guide us through these uncertain times."
A third member added his voice to the discussion. "Yes, in the last meeting, you said that you would handle this problem, and in the meeting before that too. But nothing has changed. Many of our employees have resigned, stating that a company without an owner is bound to be doomed. If this continues, we will have to close the company soon."
The room was filled with murmurs of agreement and concern. Just as it seemed like the discussion was going to escalate, a voice cut through the chaos. "That won't happen." The room fell silent as everyone turned in the direction of the voice.
From the door of the boardroom, a man emerged, his tall frame commanding attention. He stood at around 6 feet, his presence filling the room. His green eyes sparkled with confidence as he scanned the room, his gaze lingering on each face before moving on. His brown hair was perfectly styled, framing his chiseled features.
He was dressed in a dark suit that seemed tailored to perfection, accentuating his broad shoulders and lean physique. The fabric hugged his body in all the right places, exuding an air of sophistication and elegance. As he walked towards the front of the boardroom, his hands were casually tucked into his pockets, giving him an air of relaxed confidence.
His strides were long and purposeful, eating up the distance between the door and the front of the room. The board members watched him, their faces a mix of curiosity and intrigue. Who was this man, and what was he doing here? As he reached the front of the room, he came to a stop, his eyes sweeping across the room once more. The silence was palpable, with all eyes fixed on him, waiting for him to speak.
As the man reached the front of the room, Manish's eyes widened in shock, his face pale. His expression quickly turned to anger, his eyes narrowing as he whispered, "What are you doing here?!" The man's smirk only grew wider as he replied, his voice low and taunting. "Come on, Basu Uncle, why the sour treatment? We are meeting after so long. Didn't you miss me?"
The board members exchanged curious glances, whispering to each other. "Who is he?" one of them asked, his voice barely audible. His neighbor shook his head, equally perplexed. "No idea."
The man turned to the members, his smirk still in place. "Good morning, everyone. Let me introduce myself," he said, his voice smooth as silk. Manish's gaze turned icy, his eyes flashing with hostility as he spoke.
"I'm Vikram Singh. Mr. Amrit Singh's only nephew," the man announced, his words sending shockwaves through the room. Gasps and whispers erupted, with some members exchanging stunned glances. "Oh, now I remember. He is Vikram, the stepson of Dhanraj Singh, Mr. Amrit Singh's elder brother," someone whispered.
Manish's stare intensified, his eyes locked onto Vikram's face as memories of the incident that had occurred 20 years ago came flooding back.
