HUKUMAT : WAR FOR THRONES

And a new life begins

7 Years Later

  Black Shadow Villa

Nainital

A young woman, around 25, sat in the drawing hall of the Black Shadow Villa, her sharp features illuminated by the soft glow of her laptop screen. She wasn’t quite a lady by society’s standards—still youthful, but with an aura of maturity that suggested she had seen and endured more than her years should allow. Her fingers danced swiftly over the keyboard, the rhythmic tapping filling the otherwise silent room. Occasionally, she paused to take a sip of her coffee, her gaze momentarily distant as if lost in thought.

After several minutes, she closed the laptop and stretched her arms above her head, feeling the tension ease from her muscles. Just then, her phone rang, breaking the silence.

She answered in a low but captivating voice, "Hello? Who is this?"

The voice on the other end spoke, and she listened quietly for a few moments before replying, "Yes, this is me."

There was a pause. The silence on the line grew heavy before she responded again, her tone firm and decisive. "Wait, I'm coming."

Without wasting another second, she grabbed her phone, stood up, and headed for the door. Outside, the cool mountain breeze hit her face as she descended the steps from the villa.

"Ma'am, where would you like to go?" her driver asked, opening the door of a sleek, luxury car, his tone respectful and deferential.

"St. Joseph’s School," she instructed, settling into the plush leather seat.

The car pulled away from the villa, its tires crunching softly on the gravel drive as it began the journey through the winding roads of Nainital. As the car sped along, the woman repeatedly dialed a number on her phone, her frustration growing with each unanswered call.

"Why aren’t you picking up?" she muttered to herself, her patience wearing thin. She gritted her teeth, her expression hardening with each passing second. Finally, in a fit of anger, she whispered under her breath, "Tum toh ghar aao, tab batati hoon," her voice filled with restrained fury as she tossed the phone onto the seat beside her.

The driver, sensing her irritation, remained silent, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

"Ma'am, we’ve arrived," he said after a few minutes, pulling the car to a stop in front of the grand entrance of St. Joseph’s School. He swiftly got out and opened the door for her, bowing his head in respect.

"Thank you. I’ll be back in about an hour," she replied, her voice once again calm and polite, as though the frustration from earlier had never existed. She straightened her coat and stepped out of the car, her demeanor composed and graceful.

With a purposeful stride, she made her way through the gates of the school, her mind already preparing for the task ahead, whatever it might be. The calm façade she wore hid the storm of emotions brewing inside her—emotions she had mastered over the years but never completely silenced.

As she disappeared into the school, the driver remained by the car, waiting for her eventual return.

She entered the principal's office, her heels tapping softly against the polished floor. The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension, and the principal, an older woman with a stern face, immediately stood up in a show of respect.

"Come in, ma'am," the principal greeted her, offering a forced smile. "Please, have a seat."

The woman sat down, folding her hands in her lap, her eyes steady as she waited for the inevitable conversation. Her silence was poised, but there was a slight tension in the set of her shoulders.