The cold, metallic interior of the prison van rattled as it sped down the rough road. The air inside was thick with tension and the scent of sweat and leather, mingling with the faint metallic tang of iron. Maya's eyes, dark and stormy, burned with a fury that had only grown in the days leading to this moment. Her wrists had the red, angry marks of handcuffs removed too late, and the glint of unyielding steel flashed in her gaze. The lady inspector, seated opposite, watched her with a cautious resolve, her fingers brushing the edge of her own holstered weapon.

As the van jostled over a deep pothole, the vibration rattled up their spines. The clang echoed inside the vehicle, masking the instant Maya lunged. With a feral grace, she twisted forward, her lithe body finding its target. The gun slipped from its holster with a speed that caught the inspector off-guard. The cold, heavy weight settled into Maya's palm as if it had been waiting for her touch. Her knuckles whitened as she raised it, pointing the barrel directly at the inspector's chest. The sharp, sour tang of fear mixed with Maya's ragged breath.

"Van roko!" Maya's voice was sharp, each syllable cutting through the heavy silence. It was both a command and a warning, reverberating against the steel walls like an ominous drumbeat.

The inspector's eyes flicked to the armed woman, and defiance kindled there. Her own fear was tempered by years of training and duty. She squared her jaw, the muscles in her face tense.

"Nahi," she replied, her voice steady, barely a quiver betraying her heartbeat racing beneath the uniform. She knew what Maya was capable of, but surrender was not an option.

Maya's rage was like a wildfire, the gun trembling slightly as her fingers twitched with the urge to pull the trigger. The silence stretched taut as the inspector's denial hung in the air, challenging and unyielding. The other officers in the van shifted nervously, their eyes darting between the two women, sweat trickling down temples and staining collars.

"I will kill you!" Maya screamed, her voice breaking with a blend of desperation and anger. The van shuddered again, as if recoiling from the storm brewing inside. For a moment, time paused, the shadows deepening around Maya's hollowed eyes as she faced the choice between reclaiming her stolen power and sealing her own doom.

The air around the van was thick with tension, the echo of gunshots still reverberating as Maya's manic energy filled the space. The sudden stillness after the chaos was punctuated by the whimpers of the terrified constables and the distant hum of traffic as they gathered their wits. Maya's escape was swift, driven by an unyielding resolve that coursed through her veins like fire.

Her footsteps fell heavy and purposeful as she made her way to an old, hidden hideout—a forgotten relic of her past, crumbling yet shrouded in secrecy. Dust motes danced in the dim light that filtered through cracked windows. The creak of the old wooden door echoed as she pushed it open with a force born of desperation. Inside, the stale scent of neglect mingled with the faint metallic tinge of memories long buried.

Maya moved with urgency, her eyes darting around until they landed on the drawer. It took only a moment to force it open, the splintered wood biting into her palm as she rummaged through its contents. Her fingers brushed against cold, faded photographs. One fell to the floor, fluttering like a fallen leaf before landing face up. The image of Aarav, smiling and full of life, stared back at her—a stark contrast to the darkness that had consumed her.

She snatched up the photograph, the edges crumpling under the force of her grip. For a moment, the steely glint in her eyes softened into something almost tender. Pressing her lips to the image, her breath came out in ragged bursts, a desperate mix of longing and fury. The silence was shattered as she whispered, her voice trembling with both anger and yearning, "Tum sirf Maya ke ho, Aarav! Khushi bhi sirf meri beti hai, koi aur uski maa nahi ban sakti."

The room seemed to echo with her words, as if the past itself was pushing back against her delusions. The photograph, now marred by her kiss and the dampness of her breath, crumpled further as her grip tightened. Maya's eyes flitted around the room, wild and calculating, searching for her next move.

Outside, distant sirens began to wail, their sound cutting through the silence like a blade. But to Maya, they were nothing more than a faint warning, an obstacle she was ready to overcome. Her chest heaved as she steadied herself, a sinister determination setting her eyes alight. She would not let Manvi's happiness stand; she would claim what she believed was hers, even if it meant dragging them all back into the storm.

"Door kar dungi main usey tum dono se... hamesha hamesha ke liye," she vowed, her voice a low, dangerous murmur. The words were infused with a steely resolve, a promise made to herself in the depths of her anguish.

Maya's surroundings were a chaotic testament to her inner turmoil. The once pristine room, now a symbol of her unraveling, was littered with the remains of her ambitions and the remnants of her broken dreams. The opulent curtains, once symbols of her sophistication, hung askew, as if mirroring the disarray in her mind.

Her gaze was fierce and unyielding as she surveyed the destruction, her mind racing with schemes and plans. The room, now a reflection of her shattered state, became the stage for her final act of vengeance. Maya's resolve hardened as she prepared to execute her plan to erase the presence of Aarav and Khushi from her life, vowing to reclaim what she felt had been unjustly taken from her.

As the evening shadows lengthened, Manvi found herself deep in thought. "Dono ka mann nahi tha phir bhi maine bhej diya... ab manana toh padega," she mused, a sense of determination taking over. She knew she had to make up for the morning's insistence. With a creative spark, she decided to paint something special for Aarav. She set up an empty canvas in the middle of the hall and poured her heart into the painting, each stroke filled with love and apology.

Next, she turned her attention to the kitchen, preparing Khushi's favorite dishes with meticulous care. The aroma of spices and herbs soon filled the house, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. Satisfied with her efforts, Manvi waited for their return, her heart filled with anticipation.

Her phone rang, shattering the calm of the moment. She picked it up, her voice steady. "Hello?"

The caller's words left her stunned, a cold fear gripping her heart. "Main abhi aa rahi hun," she said, panic rising in her chest. Without another thought, she rushed out of the house, her bare feet barely noticing the cool floor beneath them.

Half an hour later, Aarav returned home after picking up Khushi from college. The car's engine hummed to a stop, and they stepped out, both eager to share their day with Manvi. As they entered the house, Aarav called out, "Manvi!"

"Mumma!" Khushi echoed, her voice filled with youthful exuberance.

Silence greeted them. Aarav frowned slightly, scanning the room. His eyes landed on the painting in the middle of the hall, a beautifully crafted piece that spoke volumes of Manvi's talent and love. A smile spread across his face. "Dekho Khushi, tumhari mumma humhe manana chahti hai," he said, his voice filled with warmth.

Khushi giggled, her eyes sparkling with affection. "Par hum toh naraz they hi nahi mumma se," she said, her tone lighthearted.

Aarav's smile widened, an idea forming in his mind. "Hmm acha? Toh pretend karte hai naraz hai," he suggested, a playful glint in his eyes.

Khushi's face lit up with excitement. "Deal!" she said, sharing a high-five with him.

As they walked further into the house, the aroma of Khushi's favorite foods enveloped them, reinforcing Manvi's efforts to create a special evening. Yet, amidst the playful conspiracies and the scent of home-cooked meals, a hint of unease lingered in the air. The absence of Manvi's welcoming presence was unusual, and though Aarav and Khushi were wrapped up in their playful plans, a part of them couldn't help but wonder where she had gone.

Khushi glanced at the clock, her brow furrowing with concern. "Dadda, 7 baj gaye hai... Mumma kahan hai?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry.

Aarav, feeling a sudden rush of anxiety, pulled out his phone and dialed Manvi's number. The phone remained silent, not ringing at all. Panic edged its way into his mind as he began to search the house, calling out for her. Every room, every corner, yielded no trace of Manvi.

Khushi, her earlier excitement now replaced by growing dread, sank onto the couch, her eyes welling up with tears. She clutched a cushion, her mind replaying the happy moments from the morning. The stark contrast between then and now made her heart ache. Aarav, seeing her distress, quickly came to her side and bent down in front of her, his eyes full of concern and determination.

"Dadda, mumma! Kahi Maya..." Khushi's voice trembled, her fear palpable.

"Shh... kuch nahi hoga tumhari mumma ko!" Aarav's voice was firm, his resolve steely. "Iss baar main apni wajah se uski jaan nahi jaane dunga," he declared, a fierce protectiveness burning in his eyes.

He stood up, his mind made up. As he moved towards the door, Khushi immediately followed him. Sensing her presence behind him, he turned and said, "Nahi, tum nahi."

But Khushi, her eyes now clear and resolute, replied, "Dadda, aap akele nahi! Main jaungi aapke saath."

Aarav paused for a moment, seeing the same determination in his daughter's eyes that he felt within himself. He nodded, acknowledging her strength and resolve. Together, they stepped out of the house, a united front against the unknown.

The evening air was cool and filled with the distant sounds of city life. Aarav and Khushi hurried to the car, their minds racing with worry and thoughts of where Manvi could be. The drive was tense, the silence in the car heavy with unspoken fears and a shared determination to find her.

As they navigated the streets, Aarav's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. He tried to piece together any clues, any possible reason for Manvi's sudden disappearance. Khushi, sitting beside him, was equally absorbed in her thoughts, her worry for her mother mingling with a newfound resolve to help her father in any way she could.

They decided to start their search at familiar places, hoping to find some sign of Manvi. As they drove, Aarav kept an eye out for anything unusual, while Khushi scanned the streets, her heart pounding in her chest. The bond between them grew stronger in that moment, their shared mission bringing them closer than ever.

The city lights blurred past them as they drove through the evening, their determination unwavering. No matter what challenges lay ahead, they were united in their resolve to bring Manvi back safely, ready to face whatever obstacles came their way.

Aarav's phone rang, shattering the tense silence in the car. He quickly picked it up, his heart pounding. The sinister voice of his ex-wife, Maya, sent chills down his spine.

"Tumhe sach mein laga police Maya ko pakadke rakh sakti hai??Shaadi ka tohfa hai tumhari car mein dekhlo," she said, her tone dripping with malice, before disconnecting the call abruptly.

Panic surged through Aarav as he scrambled out of the car and hurried to open the bonnet. What he saw made his blood run cold Manvi's saree, soaked in blood. He recalled the saree she wore in the morning, and her smiling face appeared in front of his eyes. His breath caught in his throat, and he felt the world spin around him. The sight triggered a panic attack, and he collapsed to the ground, clutching the bloodied fabric.

The memory of Manvi's joyful expression that morning clashed violently with the reality before him. His chest tightened, and each breath became a struggle. The ground seemed to shift beneath him as his mind spiraled into chaos. The world blurred, and the only thing that felt real was the bloodstained saree in his hands.

Khushi, alarmed by her father's sudden collapse, rushed to his side. "Dadda... shant ho jaiye," she said gently, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her. She knelt beside him, her own fear and anxiety pushed aside as she focused on calming him down.

She helped him drink some water, her hands trembling slightly but her resolve firm. Aarav, gasping for breath, managed to speak between ragged breaths. "Khushi... Maya maar degi Manvi ko! Usne Ria... uske pati... meri behen Anika... nahi... Manvi..."

Khushi's heart ached at seeing her father so distraught, and the blood on the saree only intensified her fear. But she knew she had to be strong for him. "Nahi, Dadda... Mumma ko kuch nahi hoga. Hum unhe bacha lenge," she said, her voice filled with determination.

She took a deep breath, her mind racing to think of their next steps. "We need to find her, Dadda. Maya is trying to scare us, but we won't let her win," Khushi said, her eyes fierce with resolve. She helped Aarav to his feet, supporting him as he steadied himself.

Aarav, still shaken but now fueled by a renewed determination, nodded. "You're right, Khushi. We need to find Manvi and bring her back safely." His voice was stronger now, his fear replaced by a burning resolve to protect his wife.

Aarav's car rolled to a halt in front of the imposing Malhotra Mansion, its grand facade casting long shadows in the dim light. With a determined set to his jaw, he stepped out of the vehicle, the weight of his mission pressing heavily on his shoulders. Khushi trailed behind him, her heart pounding with a mix of confusion and anxiety.

"Dadda, hum ghar wapas kyun jaa rahe hai?" Khushi's voice wavered with unease, her eyes darting between her father and the looming mansion.

Aarav's expression remained unreadable as he guided her through the grand entrance. The echo of their footsteps reverberated through the spacious, eerily quiet halls. He led her to the guest room, his movements deliberate but burdened with a heavy sense of purpose.

"Dadda, kya hua?" Khushi's voice was now tinged with desperation, her worry growing with each unanswered question.

Aarav paused in the doorway of the guest room, his face a mask of solemn determination. He gently cupped Khushi's face in his hands, his touch tender yet heavy with unspoken grief. The memories hit him like a tidal wave years of torment from his stepmother, the forced marriage to Maya, and the cruel punishments that had left deep emotional scars. He remembered Khushi's birth, the way Maya had twisted their lives into a nightmare, using her own daughter as a weapon against him. The brief hope of freedom when Maya was jailed had been dashed when Maya's influence stretched from behind bars, manipulating Khushi to despise him.

Tears pooled in Aarav's eyes as he leaned in to kiss Khushi's forehead. "I am sorry, Khushi. Main tumhe nahi kho sakta," he choked out, his voice breaking under the weight of his sorrow.

Khushi looked up at him, her eyes glistening with tears, her own heart aching for her father. "Dadda, main yahi hun, aapke paas. Hum ek saath Mumma ko dhoondh sakte hain," she pleaded, her voice full of a resolute strength she didn't know she possessed.

Aarav's heart was a battlefield of conflicting emotions. He knew he had to protect Khushi, but the thought of her getting hurt was unbearable. With a heavy heart, he turned and walked out of the room, locking the door behind him. The sound of the lock clicking into place was a jarring finality.

Khushi's shock quickly turned into frantic desperation. She rushed to the door, pounding on it with her small fists. "Dadda, darwaza kholo! Main aapko akele nahi jaane dungi Maya ke paas!" Her voice was a desperate plea, echoing through the cold, empty hallway.

"Khushi, main tumhe takleef mein nahi dekh paunga," Aarav's muffled voice came through the door, filled with agony and resolve. The door became a physical barrier not just of wood, but of emotional distance.

"Dadda, please... hum milke Manvi Mumma ko layenge," she cried, her tears mingling with her pleas. Each word was a testament to her resolve to help her family.

Aarav's heart wrenched as he stood on the other side of the door, fighting back tears of his own. His resolve was unshaken, but the pain of leaving Khushi behind was almost unbearable. "Nahi, Khushi. I am sorry beta. Promise karta hun tumhari mumma ko launga," he said, his voice trembling with unspoken promises and pain.

He walked away, each step heavy with the burden of his decision. Khushi's cries followed him, a heartbreaking soundtrack to his departure. "Dadda, no! Please... Dadda!" The sound of her desperation was like a sharp knife to his heart.

As Aarav exited the mansion, he turned to address the servants and Sharda. His voice was stern and unyielding. "Koi darwaza nahi kholega, warna sabki naukri jayegi," he warned, making it clear that no one would interfere with his mission.

Sharda, with a mix of concern and maternal affection, approached him. She touched his face gently, her voice soft but laced with worry. "Beta, apna khayal rakhna," she urged, knowing full well the emotional and physical toll that confronting Maya would exact on him.

Aarav bent down to touch her feet, seeking her blessings. His heart ached with the weight of his promise, but his determination was unyielding. "Main apni zindagi ki baazi laga dunga, par Manvi ko surakshit launga," he vowed, his voice filled with steely resolve.

As he stepped into his car, Khushi's tearful eyes were the last image he saw. Through the window, her face was a portrait of agony and heartbreak, her small hands pressed against the glass in a silent plea for him to stay.

Aarav drove off, his resolve hardening with each passing mile. The car disappeared into the distance, leaving Khushi behind, feeling more isolated and frightened than ever. She sank to the floor, her legs giving way as the enormity of the situation overwhelmed her.

In the echoing silence of the mansion, Khushi's sobs filled the air, a poignant reminder of the pain and uncertainty that gripped her. The morning's brief moments of happiness now seemed like a distant dream. As she sat there, the weight of her father's words and his promise to bring Manvi back became her only solace.

Determined to help her father and find Manvi, Khushi wiped away her tears, her resolve hardening. She knew she had to be strong and prepared for whatever lay ahead, for both her father's safety and the well-being of her family. With a deep breath, she stood up, ready to face the challenge, driven by hope and love.

Aarav's car screeched to a halt in front of Maya's house, its engine still rumbling as he leaped out and raced up the steps. His heart pounded in his chest as he flung open the door, only to be met with a chilling emptiness. The rooms were bare, the furniture covered in dust, and the air thick with abandonment.

Desperation clawed at him as he frantically searched every corner of the house. His mind raced through every possible hiding place, every scenario where Maya could be. Each empty room, each silent corner, only deepened his dread.

Suddenly, a flash of memory cut through his panic—a memory of his old mansion, the place that held both his darkest memories and remnants of happier times. It was an old house he had converted into a farmhouse, a place he had avoided because of the painful past it harbored. Yet, it seemed the only place where Maya might have taken Manvi.

Without wasting another second, Aarav turned on his heel and sprinted back to his car. He sped away from Maya's house, his mind fixated on the old mansion. The roads blurred as he drove with a singular focus, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. The night was dark and oppressive, the urgency of his mission pressing down on him.

As he approached the old mansion, a sense of foreboding settled over him. The farmhouse loomed in the distance, a silhouette against the dark sky. Its once-grand facade, now weathered and forlorn, seemed to echo the pain of its past.

He pulled up the gravel driveway and parked the car with a sharp jolt. The farmhouse stood in near-total darkness, its windows like unseeing eyes. The tall grass surrounding it rustled softly in the breeze, adding to the eerie silence.

Aarav approached the front door cautiously, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. He reached for the handle, his heart racing. The old wooden door creaked ominously as he pushed it open, revealing a dusty interior shrouded in shadows. The smell of must and decay hit him, mingling with the fear that tightened his chest.

Every step he took seemed amplified in the quiet, each footfall a reminder of the weight of his past and the urgency of his present. He moved through the dimly lit rooms, his eyes scanning for any sign of movement, any clue that might indicate Maya's presence.

As he reached the old, familiar rooms, the memories of his painful past rushed back—his stepmother's cruelty, Maya's manipulations. The emotional weight was almost unbearable, but he pushed through it, driven by his determination to find Manvi and confront Maya.

The farmhouse held its secrets tightly, and Aarav felt the walls close in on him as he continued his search. His mind was a storm of anxiety and hope, praying that the path of his past would lead him to the resolution he so desperately needed.

Suddenly, a bright beam of light pierced through the darkness, illuminating the grand, yet dusty, hall. Aarav's eyes adjusted, and he saw Maya sitting comfortably in an ornate, high-backed chair. Her presence was unsettling—a cruel contrast to the faded grandeur of the room.

Maya's smile was chillingly serene, a stark contrast to the tension that gripped Aarav. "Welcome home, meri jaan," she greeted, her voice laced with mockery and malice.

Aarav's gaze hardened, his fists clenching at his sides. He stepped forward, trying to control the rising anger. "Manvi kahan hai, Maya?" he demanded, his voice steady but filled with underlying fury.

Maya's laughter echoed through the empty space, a sound that seemed to amplify the dread in the room. She leaned back in her chair, a look of cruel satisfaction on her face. "Yahi hai!" she said, her voice dripping with malicious intent. "Par itni aasani se kaise pahuchne dun tumhe uss tak..." The words hung in the air, each syllable heavy with the promise of suffering.

The room seemed to close in around Aarav, the walls pressing in as if they were part of the trap Maya had laid for him. The light from the chandelier above cast ominous shadows, creating a distorted dance of darkness and light on the walls. The grand room, once a symbol of his past prosperity, now felt like a cage, its opulence a façade hiding the torment within.

Maya's words were a clear signal of the torment to come. Her eyes sparkled with malevolent glee as she reveled in Aarav's distress. She relished the control she wielded, knowing that every moment of fear and uncertainty would be her means of exerting power.

Aarav's anger and frustration were palpable. The desperation to find Manvi was overshadowed by the crushing reality of Maya's cruel games. He understood that Maya's challenge would not be a simple confrontation but a series of psychological and emotional traps designed to break him.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself against the rising tide of anger and fear. His mind raced, searching for a strategy to navigate the treacherous game Maya had set up. The room, with its dimming light and eerie silence, felt like a twisted stage where Maya was the puppet master, and Aarav was thrust into a cruel performance he had no choice but to endure.

The oppressive silence of the room was shattered by Aarav's desperate cry. His voice, raw with emotion, reverberated through the grand but hollow space. "Main tumhari koi baat nahi manne waali hun, Maya! Where is Manvi?" he demanded, his rage and fear intertwining in his voice.

Maya's smile widened, a cruel glint in her eyes. "Aarav," she began, her tone calm and taunting, "tumhari awaaz mujhse uchi jitni hogi utni takleef tumhari biwi ko hogi! Demo dekhoge?" She held up a remote control, her fingers caressing it with an air of malicious anticipation.

Before Aarav could react, Maya pressed a button. The room's lighting shifted, revealing a large screen that flickered to life. The image on the screen was grainy but unmistakable—Manvi's face appeared, her expression a mix of defiance and despair. Her voice came through the speakers, strained and desperate. "Nahi Aaravji! Aapko mere liye iss aurat ki baat manne ki zaroorat nahi hai."

Aarav's heart sank, the sight of Manvi's pained face sending a wave of helplessness through him. He tried to move closer to the screen, but Maya's unyielding presence was a constant barrier. Maya pressed another button on the remote, and the scene on the screen shifted.

The image now showed Manvi strapped to a metal chair, her body tense with fear. The chair itself was equipped with a series of metal coils and restraints. The sight was horrifying—a stark contrast to the elegant surroundings of the room. Maya's cruel laughter filled the space as she pressed another button.

The metallic lock on Manvi's chair clicked ominously, and a high-voltage current surged through it. Manvi's scream of agony pierced the air, a raw, haunting cry that echoed around the room. "Aah..." she gasped, her body writhing in pain as the electric shock coursed through her.

Aarav's eyes widened in horror, his breath catching in his throat as he watched Manvi's suffering. The sight was unbearable, the intensity of her pain fueling his desperation. He turned to Maya, his voice cracking as he shouted, "No! Please stop this!"

His plea was a fragile whisper against the backdrop of Maya's cold amusement. "Maya, please! I'll do anything, just stop hurting her!" he begged, his voice breaking.

Maya's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she continued to manipulate the remote, her fingers dancing over the buttons with a detached grace. She relished the power she held over Aarav and Manvi, knowing that each moment of torment was both a punishment and a test of Aarav's resolve.