The Shadow of Retribution: A tale of vengeance and the price of justice.

Chapter 8

The Present
13th August 2025
Delhi India

             The Murder

“You look incredible,” Sourab said, standing to kiss me on the cheek.

I smiled softly, allowing the moment to play out. “Thank you,” I replied, my voice steady. “This place is beautiful.”

I played along, my smile a mask. Sourab's words about his business ventures fell on deaf ears. My gaze was fixed on the small vial in my purse, a silent promise of the night's true ending.

Dessert came, a bittersweet interlude. Then, Sourab presented the ring, a gesture that once would have filled me with joy. Now, it was merely another step in my carefully laid plan.

As he spoke of our future, my heart hardened. I thought of the poison, its swift and silent action. Tonight, the tables would turn. It wasn't Sourab who would propose; it would be me, offering a different kind of future, one free from deception and control.

"Spencer," Sourab began, opening the box to reveal a dazzling diamond ring. "I've waited so long for this moment. Will you marry me?"

I gazed down at him—the man who had murdered Jared in cold blood—and smiled, concealing the fury simmering beneath my skin. "Yes, Sourab," I whispered. "I'll marry you."

He slipped the ring onto my finger and stood, pulling me into a tight embrace. As he did, I quietly reached into my purse, my fingers closing around a small vial. While his back was turned, still caught up in the moment’s grandeur, I uncapped the vial and discreetly poured the liquid into his glass.

"To us," Sourab said, raising his glass with a smug grin.

"To us," I replied, my eyes narrowing slightly as our glasses clinked together.

Sourab took a long sip, savoring the taste of his victory, oblivious to the fact it would be his last. He set the glass down, still smiling at me, but his expression shifted as the poison began to take hold. His smile faded, replaced by confusion, then pain.

"What... what is this?" he gasped, clutching at his throat.

I stood, my face cold and composed. "Do you remember Jared?" I asked, my voice unwavering. "The man you and your friends murdered on the night of August 13th, 2022—exactly three years ago? He was my fiancé."

Terror filled Sourab's eyes as he staggered backward, his body beginning to convulse. He tried to speak, but the poison was working swiftly, paralyzing his muscles and stealing his breath. He collapsed to his knees, gasping, his eyes desperately searching mine.

"You thought you could escape justice," I continued, watching his struggle without pity. "But you were wrong."

In mere moments, Sourab's body writhed in agony before finally going still. His eyes remained open, staring lifelessly at the ceiling as the last remnants of life drained from him.

I looked down at him, my heart racing—not with fear or guilt, but with the satisfaction of knowing justice had been served. One down. Four to go.

I slid the engagement ring off my finger and placed it beside his lifeless hand, a final gesture of contempt. Without a second glance, I turned and walked away, leaving the rooftop behind, the vast city of Delhi stretching below, unaware that the first of five had fallen.