NIGHT TIME

After discovering the locket identical to the one worn by her mother's killer, Drishti was consumed by suspicion. The locket alone wasn't enough to prove Rakshit's guilt, but it was a powerful catalyst that drove her deeper into her investigation.

She couldn't let it go. She needed more, and she knew where to look.

RAKSHIT'S STUDY ROOM

Drishti made her way to Rakshit's study, her heart pounding in her chest. This was where he spent most of his time when he wasn't in meetings or out on business. It was his sanctuary-a place where he locked away secrets.

She started with his desk, meticulously going through each drawer, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. However, a small, worn-out leather journal caught her attention. It was tucked away behind a row of books on a high shelf, as if Rakshit wanted to keep it out of sight.

Drishti carefully opened the journal, and her eyes widened as she read the entries. They were filled with Rakshit's thoughts, or at least, they seemed to be. The handwriting was his, but the words felt detached, almost cold. The entries detailed his growing frustration with certain members of the Shergill family.

One particular entry caught her eye:

"She's becoming a liability. Her constant probing into the family's past could ruin everything. If she won't back down, I'll have to take matters into my own hands. No one can know the truth."

Drishti's blood ran cold. The entry was dated just a week before her mother's death. Could Rakshit have seen her mother as a threat? Was this why he had her killed?

She flipped pages after pages, searching for any kind of clue which could lead her to something else.

"Its frustrating. I'm not getting any clues. I need to finish this off as soon as possible. If someone got to know about this, I'll be in a big problem."

Her lips trembled. Rakshit Shergill was not the man he appeared to be. He was a cruel monster dressed in the suits of a gentleman. He only knew how to kill people, their feelings. Nothing else.

Still shaken by what she had read, she decided to dig further. She accessed the other side of his study room after closing the safe, where he handled his business affairs. This time, she wasn't just looking for evidence-she was searching for answers that would either confirm or deny her worst fears.

She combed through his emails, bank statements, and phone records on his personal computer. Everything seemed normal until she found a series of encrypted messages. It took her hours, but she finally managed to decrypt them. She wasn't as innocent as she appeared to be. She could hack systems if she wanted to. She had immense technological knowledge. The messages were between Rakshit and an unknown associate, discussing payments, "deliveries," and something referred to only as "the job."

One message stood out:

"The package is ready. The funds will be transferred once the job is done. No loose ends."

Drishti felt sick. The timing of these messages coincided with the days leading up to her mother's death. It seemed Rakshit had been orchestrating something behind her back, something sinister.

As Drishti continued her search, she stumbled upon a small safe, something even she didn't know existed.

"So many safes here and there. How many secrets is this house hiding?" She mumbled to herself.

The safe was filled with old records and documents, indicating that someone was on a secret mission.

Among the items, Drishti found a file labeled with her mother's name. Shock and fear clouded her heart, her hands started shaking. Tears filled her eyes, the same memories came flooding. Her mom getting killed right infront of her eyes... She took a deep breathe. This wasn't the time for crying.

She searched further. Inside, there were surveillance photos of her mother, phone transcripts, and detailed reports on her activities. But what struck Drishti the most was a final note attached to the file:

"She's getting too close. We need to silence her before it's too late."

Drishti's hands shook as she read the note. The signature at the bottom was Rakshit's.

Drishti is now more convinced than ever that Rakshit is behind her mother's murder. The clues she's found-the journal entries, the encrypted messages, the surveillance files-are all carefully planted to make her believe he's guilty. But little does she know, the real mastermind is using her grief and anger to push her further away from the truth.

━━༻❁༺━━

Drishti returned to their room, her heart still pounding in her chest from the discoveries she had made earlier. The dim light from the bedside lamp cast long shadows on the walls, making the room feel both intimate and oppressive. She glanced at Rakshit, who was already asleep, his features relaxed and peaceful. It infuriated her that he could sleep so soundly, while her mind was in turmoil.

She lay down beside him, her body tense, but sleep was elusive. Every time she closed her eyes, the images of the journal entries, the locket, and the memories of her mother's smile haunted her. She hated him, despised him with every fiber of her being, and yet, here she was, lying next to him, feeling the warmth of his body just inches away. It was maddening.

Rakshit stirred beside her, his arm draping over her waist in his sleep. The contact sent a jolt through her, making her heart skip a beat. She stiffened, torn between pulling away and leaning into the warmth that his touch provided, despite her better judgment. How could he touch her so casually, so possessively, as if he hadn't shattered her world? The thought both angered and confused her.

Her breath hitched when his hand moved slightly, his fingers brushing against the fabric of her nightgown. She could feel his steady breathing on the back of her neck, the rhythm of his chest rising and falling against her back. It was strange, how something so simple could stir such complex emotions within her.

A part of her wanted to turn around, to confront him in his sleep, to let her anger and frustration pour out in the form of words and tears. But another part of her-a part she wasn't ready to admit existed-craved the closeness, the strange comfort of his presence, despite the turmoil inside her.

He mumbled something incoherent in his sleep, pulling her closer. Drishti felt her resolve waver, just for a moment. His arm tightened around her, and she could feel his heartbeat against her back, steady and strong. It reminded her of how, despite everything, he had always protected her. But was that protection genuine, or just another piece of his elaborate deception?

"How can someone who had always protected me, be the killer of my mother?" A small part of her heart wasn't ready to accept it, no matter how many proofs it came across.

Drishti clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. No, she couldn't let herself be swayed by these feelings. Not now. She had to stay focused. She had to find the truth, and when she did, she would make sure he paid for every lie, every deception.

"I'll make sure I find more proofs about you..." she whispered softly, almost as if confessing a dark secret to the night. "And I swear, when I do, I'll give you the most painful death ever experienced in mankind."

But even as she whispered those words, her voice trembling with anger, she couldn't ignore the small, traitorous part of her heart that ached at the thought of being the one to destroy him.

As the night wore on, Drishti finally began to drift into a restless sleep, still held tightly in Rakshit's unconscious embrace. Her mind was a battlefield of conflicting emotions-hatred, confusion, and the smallest, most dangerous flicker of something else that she wasn't ready to name.