A few months had passed, and the dynamics in the household had taken a toll on Rohan's young mind. Meenakshi's schemes and Dhanraj's negligence had created an atmosphere of tension and stress for Rohan. One day, Dhanraj received a call from Rohan's school, informing him that Rohan had fallen unconscious in class. Dhanraj rushed to the hospital, his heart racing with worry.
As he arrived at the hospital, he peeked inside the room where Rohan was lying on the bed, his small body hooked up to various machines. Dhanraj's eyes filled with concern as he gazed at his son. Just then, a voice interrupted his thoughts. "Are you Rohan's dad?" Dhanraj turned to see a man in a white coat standing behind him.
"Yes, Doctor. I'm his father," Dhanraj replied, his voice filled with anxiety. The doctor nodded and said, "Come with me." Dhanraj followed the doctor to his office, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios.
In the office, the doctor sat down and began to review Rohan's reports. He looked up, removed his glasses, and sighed. "Mr. Dhanraj, is there some tension going on in your house?" the doctor asked, his voice gentle but probing. Dhanraj's expression turned puzzled. "What do you mean?" he asked.
The doctor leaned forward, his eyes filled with concern. "Rohan's reports are indicating that he is under a lot of stress. We're shocked at how such a young boy can be carrying so much emotional burden." The doctor's words hit Dhanraj like a ton of bricks. He felt a pang of guilt and regret.
"We all know about your wife's death and remarriage," the doctor continued. "Sometimes, these changes can be too much for children to handle. I would advise you to spend more time with Rohan and try to understand what's going on in his mind. Otherwise..." The doctor's voice trailed off, leaving the unspoken words hanging in the air.
"Otherwise?" Dhanraj asked, his voice barely above a whisper. The doctor's expression turned somber. "You can lose him too." Dhanraj's heart skipped a beat as the doctor's words sank in. He nodded, feeling a sense of determination wash over him.
As he sat beside Rohan's bed, he gently ruffled his hair. "Am I such a bad father?" he murmured, his voice filled with self-doubt. A tear rolled down his cheek, and he felt a deep sense of regret for not being more present in Rohan's life.
A few days later, Dhanraj decided to plan a vacation to the beach, hoping that it would provide an opportunity for Rohan and Vikram to bond and strengthen their relationship. The family arrived at the beach, and Dhanraj and Meenakshi settled into their beach chairs, enjoying the warm sun and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.
Rohan and Vikram, full of energy, ran off to play in the sand, their laughter and shouts filling the air. Dhanraj watched them for a moment, feeling a sense of hope that this vacation would bring his sons closer together.
Just as he was about to relax, his phone rang, breaking the peaceful atmosphere. Dhanraj stood up, apologizing to Meenakshi. "I'll be back in a minute," he said, walking away to answer the call. Meenakshi nodded, her eyes fixed on the boys as they played in the distance.
On the sea shore, Rohan and Vikram were engrossed in building their sand castles, their imaginations running wild as they crafted intricate structures. Rohan stepped back to admire his creation, a proud grin spreading across his face. "Look! Mine's bigger than yours," he said, his voice filled with excitement.
Vikram's eyes narrowed as he compared the two castles. "No, mine's bigger," he said, his voice tinged with competitiveness. The brothers continued to bicker good-naturedly, each convinced that their castle was the superior one.
Just as they were admiring their creations, a wave rolled in, crashing against the shore and sending water rushing towards the castles. Vikram's castle, unfortunately, was directly in the path of the wave, and it plopped down, destroyed by the rushing water.
Feeling frustrated and disappointed, Vikram's face twisted in anger. He ran towards Rohan, his small fists clenched, and pushed him, causing Rohan's sand castle to break as well. Rohan stood up, his eyes wide with surprise and anger, and pushed Vikram in response.
The scene quickly escalated, with both boys shouting and struggling. Meenakshi, who had been watching from a distance, saw the commotion and ran towards them, her face twisted in anger. Without hesitation, she pushed Rohan forcefully, her eyes blazing with fury.
Rohan's legs slipped on the wet sand, and he fell backwards into the water, his eyes wide with fear as the waves washed over him.
He panicked as the water filled his nose and mouth, his small body struggling to cope with the sudden influx of water. Dhanraj, seeing his son's distress, sprang into action. He ran towards Rohan and jumped into the water, his movements swift and decisive. He pulled Rohan to the shore, holding him tightly as he tried to calm him down.
"Rohan, wake up!" Dhanraj urged, his voice filled with concern. He gently pushed on Rohan's stomach to help drain out the water. After a few seconds, Rohan vomited up the water and coughed, his small body shaking with the effort. Dhanraj sighed in relief and hugged him tightly, holding him close as he tried to comfort him.
Meenakshi's face turned pale as she watched the scene unfold. She tried to deflect attention from her own actions, turning to Vikram and saying, "Vikram, what did you do?" Her voice was laced with accusation, as if trying to shift the blame onto the young boy. She then turned to Dhanraj, her voice dripping with apology. "Sorry, honey, please forgive him. He is just a kid."
But Dhanraj's response was not what she expected. He stood up, his eyes blazing with anger, and turned to her. To her shock, he slapped her across the face, his palm connecting with her cheek with a loud crack. "Stop accusing him! I saw you pushing Rohan," he said, his voice firm and authoritative.
Meenakshi's eyes widened in shock as Dhanraj continued, his words cutting deep. "Everyone was saying that you are wrong, but I supported you. That was my biggest mistake. I don't want such a woman in my life. I'm divorcing you." He turned and walked away, carrying Rohan in his arms, leaving Meenakshi standing alone on the beach.
Meenakshi's face turned cold and calculating as she watched them leave. She pulled out her phone and dialed a number, her voice icy and menacing. "I have a task for you. I'll pay you well, so make sure you do it properly," she said, before cutting off the call.
Meanwhile, Dhanraj started the car engine and drove away, Rohan still coughing in the backseat. He was driving while thinking about everything that had happened, his mind racing with emotions and thoughts. He couldn't believe that he had been so blind to Meenakshi's behavior, and he knew that he had to make things right for Rohan's sake.
Dhanraj's mind was consumed by thoughts of the recent events as he drove, his eyes fixed on the road ahead but his gaze inwardly focused. Suddenly, a loud honk pierced the air, and his head jerked up to see a massive truck bearing down on them at full speed. Panic set in as he realized he was about to lose control.
With a surge of adrenaline, Dhanraj tried to swerve the car out of the way, but it was too late. The truck slammed into the car with a deafening crash, sending the vehicle rolling multiple times before it finally came to rest, mangled and twisted, against a tree.
Dhanraj's world spun as he struggled to regain consciousness. His eyes blinked open, and he was met with a wave of searing pain. He tried to move, but his body seemed to be trapped, pinned down by the wreckage. His gaze frantically searched for Rohan, and his heart sank as he saw his son cuddled up in a pool of blood.
Tears streamed down Dhanraj's face as he called out to Rohan, his voice shaking with fear. "Rohan," he whispered, but there was no response. Rohan's small body remained still, and Dhanraj's heart shattered into a million pieces.
As he tried to break open the car door, Dhanraj caught a whiff of something burning. Panic set in once more as he saw a spark of fire flickering to life. He frantically tried to break free, but the flames grew stronger, fueled by the leaking gasoline.
The car suddenly erupted in a massive blast, sending Dhanraj's world into darkness. The last thing he saw was Rohan's lifeless body, and the sound of his own anguished scream was drowned out by the roar of the flames.
After a few days had passed since the accident, Amrit sat in his room, staring at a photograph of Dhanraj. His eyes were lost in thought, and his expression was somber. Jyotsana entered the room, her footsteps quiet on the floor. "Amrit," she called softly, and he looked up at her.
"I want to talk to you," she said, her voice gentle but determined. Amrit's expression changed from contemplative to curious. "What is it?" he asked, setting the photograph aside.
Jyotsana took a deep breath before speaking. "I'm going to my parents' house, and I'm taking Shruti with me." Amrit's eyes widened in surprise as he stood up. "What are you saying?" he asked, his voice rising in concern.
"I'm afraid for Shruti," Jyotsana replied, her voice laced with worry. "I don't feel safe here." Amrit's face furrowed in confusion. "Afraid of what?" he asked.
Jyotsana's eyes locked onto his, and she asked, "Do I still need to tell you? Can't you see?" Amrit's expression remained puzzled. "What do you mean?" he asked.
Jyotsana's shoulders sagged, and she seemed to deflate. "Leave it. You won't believe it anyway," she said, pulling out a suitcase from the closet. Amrit grabbed her wrist, his grip gentle but firm. "Can you please tell me what's happening?" he asked, his voice filled with a sense of urgency.
Jyotsana sighed, her eyes welling up with tears. "I think what happened to Bhaiya and Rohan... it wasn't an accident," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Amrit's face darkened in skepticism. "What do you mean?" he asked.
"I think it was intentional," Jyotsana replied, her voice firm. Amrit's expression turned incredulous. "What rubbish! Who can do such a thing?" he asked.
Jyotsana's eyes flashed with determination. "Meenakshi," she said, her voice cold. Amrit's face twisted in disbelief. "Are you out of your mind?" he asked.
Jyotsana's expression turned resigned. "I knew you wouldn't believe it. So just leave it. But I can't stay here and put my daughter in danger," she said, zipping up her suitcase. "I'm leaving," she added, before turning and walking out of the room.
Amrit's fist clenched in frustration, and he smacked it against the wall. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. "Manish, do one thing," he said, his voice firm. He asked his secretary Manish to investigate the matter.
An hour later, Amrit received a call from Manish. "Sir, the truck driver got arrested," Manish said. Amrit's eyes narrowed. "Got it. I'm coming," he said, hanging up the phone.
As Amrit arrived at the police station, Manish escorted him inside. "He is the truck driver," Manish said, pointing to a man sitting on a bench. The man's face was bruised and battered, evidence of a brutal beating. Amrit's eyes locked onto the man, and his expression turned calculating.
Amrit turned towards the police officer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he asked, "Did he confess anything?" The officer shook his head. "No, we've tried everything, but he's not talking."
Amrit's gaze shifted to Manish, and he called out to him. "Manish." Manish nodded, understanding the unspoken cue, and turned to the police officer. The officer nodded in understanding and escorted Manish and Amrit inside the cell where the driver was being held.
The driver looked up as they entered, his eyes flicking between Amrit and Manish with a mixture of fear and defiance. Amrit pulled a chair and sat down in front of the driver, his movements deliberate and calculated. "I don't like wasting time," he said, his voice firm. "So, just tell me who told you to kill my brother."
The driver remained silent, his jaw clenched in determination. Amrit sighed, his expression unyielding, and glanced at Manish. Manish nodded, understanding what was required of him, and walked towards the driver. He grasped the driver's hair, pulling his head back and exposing his neck. The driver winced, pain and fear etched on his face.
Amrit leaned forward, his eyes locked onto the driver's. "I'm asking you last time," he said, his voice cold and menacing. "Who was it?" The driver remained silent, his lips sealed tight.
Without hesitation, Manish pulled out a gun and shot the driver in the leg. The sound of the gunshot echoed through the cell, and the driver's scream pierced the air as he clutched at his wounded leg.
"Who was it?" Amrit asked again, his voice firm and commanding. The driver remained silent, his eyes fixed on the gun pointed at his head. Manish's expression was unyielding, and Amrit gave a curt nod. "Kill him," he said, standing up and turning to leave.
But before he could take a step, the driver suddenly spoke up, his voice trembling with fear. "Stop, stop! I'll tell you!" Amrit turned back to him, his eyes narrowing slightly. "It was... it was his wife who asked me to do it," the driver stammered.
Amrit's expression turned icy, his blood running cold as he processed the driver's words. "You mean Meenakshi?" he asked, his voice low and menacing. The driver nodded hastily, his eyes wide with fear.
Manish released his grip on the driver's hair, and Amrit turned to leave, his movements swift and purposeful. Manish followed closely behind him, his eyes fixed on Amrit's tense form.
As they stepped outside, Manish called out to Amrit, his voice calm and measured. "Sir!" Amrit spun around, his face twisted in rage. "This damn woman! I'll kill her!" he exclaimed, striding towards his car.
But Manish was quick to intervene, grasping Amrit's arm and holding him back. "You can't do it, sir," he said firmly. "We'll deal with her in court. You can't kill her. Think about your daughter," he added, his voice gentle but firm.
Amrit's mind flashed back to Jyotsna and Shruti, and his anger slowly gave way to reason. He stopped, his chest heaving with emotion, and smacked his hand against the wall in frustration. "Damn it!" he cursed, his voice echoing through the parking lot.
"I can understand what you're feeling right now," Manish said, placing a reassuring hand on Amrit's shoulder. "But we should file a case first. If Meenakshi gets to know about it, God knows what she'll do." Amrit nodded, his anger slowly giving way to reason. "Talk to a lawyer ASAP," he instructed Manish.
Manish nodded and quickly made a call to arrange for a lawyer to meet them. Meanwhile, at the Singh mansion, Meenakshi was sitting in front of the mirror, meticulously applying makeup. "God, all this crying and sobbing has made my face look so pale," she muttered to herself.
Just as she was finishing up, a maid knocked on the door. "Come in," Meenakshi said without looking up. "Ma'am, someone is here to see you," the maid announced.
Meenakshi nodded and headed downstairs, wondering who the unexpected visitor could be. As she entered the living room, she saw two men sitting on the sofa, who stood up as soon as they saw her. "How can I help you?" Meenakshi asked, her tone polite but slightly wary.
One of the men handed her an envelope. "What is it?" Meenakshi asked, taking the envelope and opening it. "It's a court notice," the man replied.
Meenakshi's eyes widened as she read the contents of the notice. "Court... court notice?" she stammered. "Mr. Amrit has filed a complaint against you for murdering Mr. Dhanraj Singh," the man explained.
Meenakshi's face turned red with rage. "What the hell?! How can he!" she exclaimed. The man remained calm and professional. "Whatever you want to say, please say it in court. For now, we have to arrest you."
As he spoke, two lady constables emerged from the main door, their presence a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation. "Arrest?! You can't arrest me just like that!" Meenakshi protested.
Unfortunately, the officer was unfazed. "We have an arrest warrant, Mrs. Singh," he said, his voice firm. "We can indeed arrest you." Meenakshi's world began to spin as the reality of her situation sank in.
The lady constables handcuffed Meenakshi, their movements efficient and professional. Meenakshi shouted and struggled, but they didn't react, their faces impassive. One of the men stepped aside and made a call to Manish. "We have arrested her," he said, before hanging up the call.
As Meenakshi was escorted to the police station, she spotted Amrit standing in the hallway. Her eyes flashed with anger and indignation. "Amrit! How can you do this to me?! How can you even think that I can kill Dhanraj?" she shouted, her voice echoing through the station.
Amrit's face was set in a tight mask, his jaw clenched as he struggled to control his anger. He walked towards Meenakshi, his movements deliberate and calculated. He pulled out his phone and held it near her ear.
Meenakshi's eyes widened as she heard the recording. Her own voice came through the phone, cold and calculating. "I have a task for you. I'll pay you well, so make sure you do it properly." The driver's voice responded, "What's the task?"
Meenakshi's voice continued, "You have to kill Dhanraj Singh and his son Rohan. They left just a minute ago and will be at the highway in 20 minutes. Hurry up. And make sure you make it look like an accident." The driver's response was brief: "Got it."
As the recording ended, Meenakshi's eyes locked onto Amrit's, her face pale and shocked. She seemed to shrink away from him, her earlier bravado deflated. Amrit's expression remained unyielding, his eyes cold and hard.
"That damn idiot! Why the hell did he record it!" Meenakshi exclaimed in frustration, her anger and desperation evident on her face. Amrit's expression remained unyielding as he turned to her. "See you in court," he said, before turning and walking away, leaving Meenakshi's angry shouts behind him.
The court hearings that followed were a blur of legal proceedings and testimony. In the end, the court delivered its verdict, sentencing Meenakshi to twenty years of imprisonment for her role in Dhanraj's murder. The sentence was a severe one, reflecting the gravity of her crime.
With the trial behind him, Amrit turned his attention to Vikram's well-being. He decided that it would be best for Vikram to continue his studies abroad, away from the painful memories of his past and any potential contact with his mother, Meenakshi. Amrit hoped that this decision would give Vikram a chance to heal and start anew, free from the shadows of his family's dark past.
