Broken Girl

Chapter - 23

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Karan stared blankly at the polished marble floor where she had stood just moments ago, then at the empty doorway, and finally at Faizuddin. "Faiz... tell me you caught a facial recognition scan."

Faizuddin didn't look up immediately. His hands flew across his tablet, his face pale under the cold blue luminescence of the screen. He swallowed hard, eyes tracking rows of rapidly scrolling data.

"I tried, Karan," Faizuddin stammered, shaking his head. "I had the overhead grid locked on her the second she stepped into the foyer. But that mask isn't just fabric. It's embedded with IR-diffusing mesh. To our cameras, her lower face was nothing but a distorted heat signature."

"Whoever she is, we find her," Karan said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, icy register. "Zenith doesn't just allow outsiders to wander in. Entry means you either own the guards at the gate, or you own a piece of this building. Koel, pull up the registry for every penthouse owner in this complex. Now!"

Koel nodded, her fingers already hammering away at the building's high-security database. "On it. But you know how these billionaires operate-it's a maze of shell companies and offshore accounts. It's going to take time to peel back the layers."

"Then peel them fast!" Karan snapped, pivoting toward the gold-plated VIP lift. "She didn't use the stairs or the service elevators. She used the private line. That lift only opens for the owners of the top three floors. If she's living right under our noses while we're busy guarding the Mehras, we've already lost the game."

Abhishek Mehra stepped forward, his face flushed with panic. "Are you telling me a dangerous woman-someone who looks exactly like NK-is my neighbor? This was supposed to be a state-protected safe house!"

"It was," Karan replied, his eyes scanning the room as if tracing her lingering shadow. "But clearly, she's the one who defines what 'safe' means around here."

Suddenly, Faizuddin gasped, breaking a tense ten-minute silence. "Karan... I found something. I traced the VIP lift's log. It didn't go to the garage. It stopped on the 30th floor-the level directly beneath our perimeter."

Karan's head snapped toward him. "Who owns the 30th floor?"

Faizuddin's eyes remained glued to the screen. "The records for the 30th floor are completely blacked out. No company name, no owner, nothing. It's flagged as a 'Permanent Private Residence' under a diplomatic seal. But there's a note in the maintenance log from two hours ago..."

"What does it say?" Koel asked, leaning in.

"A delivery was authorized for Floor 30," Faizuddin whispered, his voice trembling in disbelief. "A package containing a black silk dress... and black half-masks. The delivery was signed off just before she breached this floor. Someone down there knew exactly what was about to happen."

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"A black silk dress and the masks," Karan muttered, his jaw tightening as he stared at the gold lift doors. "She didn't just plan this. She treated a Level 4 Bureau lockdown like a minor inconvenience. Koel, patch through to the local tactical team. We are going down to the 30th floor."

Exactly twenty minutes had passed since the chaotic assault. The agonizing delay only magnified the tension when the lift doors finally hissed open.

ACP Pradyuman, Monami, Abhijeet, Daya, and Purvi stepped into the foyer. Their expressions were grim, defensive, and locked into crime-scene mode. The air in the penthouse, already thick with fear and the shock of the assault, grew twice as heavy.