𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 : 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓡𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓑𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓼

𝟐𝟎. 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒

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┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐
CHAPTER 20
└───❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚┘

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The room was drenched in darkness, the faintest light coming through a small crack. I sat in the center, legs crossed elegantly, my posture calm, composed. The only sound was the ragged breathing of the man kneeling before me, his face was covered with a mask of blood and fear. His body trembled, on the verge of collapse, he was begging not for his life, but for death. A pitiful plea to end his suffering.

But I wasn't known for my mercy.

My face remained devoid of emotion, a stark contrast to the storm raging within me. Across from me, in a corner of the room under the dark shadows, sat a woman on a couch. Her aura exuded power, a presence as commanding as mine, her smirk was a sharp contrast to the man's desperate sobs. While Chintamani was standing behind me with serious expressions instead of his usual carefree and chill demeanor.

Avantika: "Tell me, on whose orders did you do it?"

I said calmly looking straight in his eyes but he chose remain silent.

I admired his resolve, but I had no patience for games right now. My hand moved slowly, as I pulled out the gun from beneath my coat and aimed it at his head. His defiance crumbled instantly, his body shivering with fear.

Man: (stammering) "I'll talk! Please... I'll tell you everything!"

I knew.

I knew this defiance and begging for death was all a facade. He was afraid when I actually pulled out the gun. And this was the reality, everyone's afraid of death...

'He was trying to play mind games with Avantika Prithviraj Thakur.'

I leaned back slightly, my eyes never leaving his, the gun still steady in my hand.

Man: "I switched your coffee with slow poison when Chintamani sir turned to talk to a female employee. But it wasn't my idea, I swear! I was just following orders!"

My gaze flicked to Chintamani, standing rigidly behind me. His face was a mask of guilt, shame, fear and what not.

Avantika: (coldly) "Chintamani, I guess you know that your distractions almost took my life."

His head lowered further, his usual banter replaced with a rare, heavy silence.

Avantika: "Who ordered it?"

The man's body trembled, the words caught in his throat, but he knew there was no escape from this.

Man: "Karan... Karan Pratap Singh. He ordered me."

Ah, Karan. Buaji's precious son. The smirk that crept onto my lips was a mix of satisfaction and something far more sinister. This wasn't just a game of power, now it was personal.

From the shadows, the woman on the couch raised her gun, her eyes devoid of emotions like mine. But I raised my hand, signaling her to stop.

The man exhaled a shaky sigh of relief, only for it to be cut short as Chintamani stepped forward with a can of kerosene as he poured the liquid all over the man's body who wasn't even capable of moving now.

The man struggled weakly, his cries turning to desperate sobs as the realization of his fate dawned on him.

I stood, the click of my heels on the concrete floor the only sound in the room. I flicked open my lighter, the flame dancing in the dim light. The man's eyes widened, his cries turning into frantic, incoherent babbling. Without a word, I tossed the lighter onto him. The flame caught instantly, the fire roaring to life, consuming him in seconds, his screams echoing off the walls. They were muffled as we stepped out, leaving the scenario and its horrors behind.