INNOCENCE : An Innocent Lovestory

Chapter : 27

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The cold light of the morning filtered through the curtains of Mr. Sharma’s study. He sat there, still gripping the half-empty whiskey bottle from the night before, his eyes bloodshot, his mind unable to find rest. Sleep had eluded him for days now. The pressure of everything collapsing around him was suffocating, and every breath felt like a battle. But what had truly undone him was the betrayal—the slow unraveling of the empire he had so carefully built, now coming apart thread by thread.

The television blared in the background. A news report, as loud and insistent as the pounding in his skull, echoed through the study. Mr. Sharma absentmindedly reached for the remote to lower the volume but stopped short when he caught a glimpse of the headline:

“Business Tycoon Dhiraj Khurana Arrested for Embezzlement and Fraud—Shocking Revelations Expected in Court.”

His eyes snapped to the screen, his breath catching in his throat. The image of his former partner, Dhiraj, flashed across the screen—handcuffed, head down, being shoved into a police van. The footage switched to a press conference outside the courthouse, where Dhiraj was being questioned by a throng of reporters. The smug, confident businessman who had stood by Mr. Sharma’s side for years looked broken, his face a pale mask of fear.

Mr. Sharma sat up straighter, his heart pounding. What is he going to say?

Dhiraj was visibly sweating, his eyes darting around as if looking for an escape. The crowd was relentless, the questions bombarding him from every direction.

“Mr. Khurana, is it true that you were involved in multiple fraudulent deals with Mr. Vikram Sharma?”

“Are you admitting to embezzling funds from your business partners?”

“Did you orchestrate the attacks on Ananya Mehra’s company?”

But then came the question that shattered the thin veneer of control Dhiraj had managed to maintain.

“Mr. Khurana, is there any truth to the rumors that you were involved in the deaths of Ananya Mehra’s parents?”

Dhiraj froze. The camera zoomed in on his face, capturing every flicker of emotion. Mr. Sharma’s heart sank as he saw Dhiraj’s lips tremble. He prayed, begged internally for Dhiraj to hold strong, to deny everything. But instead, Dhiraj’s shoulders slumped, and he let out a shaky breath.

“Yes,” Dhiraj’s voice cracked, barely above a whisper, but loud enough for the microphones to catch. The air left the room. Mr. Sharma’s heart stopped. “Yes, I was involved. But it wasn’t just me—Vikram Sharma and I—”

Mr. Sharma’s vision blurred, his hands trembling uncontrollably. No. No, no, no! He reached for the television, as if physically trying to stop the words from spilling out, but it was too late.

“—we both planned it. For the money. We… we killed them.”

The room spun. Mr. Sharma’s entire body went numb, cold. His throat felt like it was closing, and he struggled to breathe. He stared at the screen in disbelief, watching as Dhiraj was dragged back to the van, the reporters going wild at the revelation. His world, his carefully constructed facade, was collapsing before his eyes.

He slumped back in his chair, gasping for air, as the weight of what Dhiraj had just confessed settled on him like a crushing boulder. His partner had betrayed him. His partner had thrown him under the bus. And now, the world knew the truth.