The money came faster than I expected.Five lakhs each — neat, exact, desperate. It hit the anonymous wallet like blood dripping into water. I stared at the transaction confirmation, a soft hum building in my chest. It wasn't the cash; I didn't need it. It was the proof. Proof that they were scared enough to pay, scared enough to obey a voice they couldn't trace.
That night, I watched her carefully. She was cooking again — something elaborate, overdone, too perfect. She was talking too much, her voice sharp, brittle, running over small talk that didn't matter. I nodded at all the right moments, smiled when she looked up. Inside, I could hear the panic hiding behind her words. She was trying to convince me that everything was fine, that nothing was falling apart.
"Rough day?" I asked, like I didn't already know.She laughed — a high, artificial sound. "Just office stuff. People are acting weird. Someone's been sending—" She stopped mid-sentence, realized what she was saying, and smiled quickly. "Never mind. Forget it."
"Sure," I said. "Forget it."
She poured me a drink with hands that shook slightly. The glass clinked against the table. Her eyes wouldn't quite meet mine. I lifted the glass, watched the amber swirl, and said softly, "You ever get the feeling someone's watching you?"
She froze. Just a second — but it was beautiful. Then she forced a smile. "You're being creepy," she said, and laughed again.
"Yeah," I murmured. "Guess so."
By midnight, the silence had turned thick. I went to the balcony again, cigarette burning low between my fingers. Through the open curtains, I saw her pacing in the living room, phone clutched tight, whispering into it. She thought I was asleep. She didn't know I was watching.
Her voice trembled. "I don't know who it is, Arjun. He's asking for more next week. I already sent what I could."Pause."No, I didn't tell him. Are you crazy? If Dhruve finds out, he'll—"
She stopped. The fear in her eyes even reached across the distance between us.He'll what?Kill you? Leave you? Destroy you quietly from the inside out?She didn't know yet.
I smiled, took a drag, and whispered to the night, "You're already halfway there."
The next day, I sent the second message.Just a few words — nothing more:
"You think this ends with money? You think you're clean now? You'll pay again. Because silence isn't cheap."
I hit send to both of them. Within minutes, the phone on the couch lit up. She saw the notification, went pale. She walked into the bathroom and stayed there for twenty minutes. I could hear her crying softly through the door.
When she came out, she looked hollow."Hey," I said quietly. "You okay?"She looked at me with wide, red eyes, searching my face like she was trying to read a confession that wasn't there."Yeah," she whispered. "Just a bad dream."
I smiled and brushed past her. "We all have those."
In her reflection on the hallway mirror, I saw the exact moment realization flickered — the idea that maybe, just maybe, the threat wasn't from outside. That maybe it was closer.
That's when I knew I had her.And I hadn't even started yet.