chapter 10 :

Secretary Danial shook his head, 'It's too strange, sir. This scene last night, and then this morning...it's as if nothing ever happened. It's like someone did it without any reason...'

Shazad nodded thoughtfully, 'Hmm, I also think so.'

Danial chuckled, 'Haha, it seems we share the same thoughts, sir.'

Shazad gazed at Danial, his eyes lingering on his face. Danial felt a sense of comfort in that gaze, as if they were old friends who understood each other without words. The silence between them was not awkward but rather a sign of their deep understanding.

Danial smiled, feeling a sense of camaraderie with the prince. 'Indeed, sir. We seem to be on the same wavelength.'

Shazad's expression remained serious, but a hint of a smile played on his lips. 'Let's keep investigating, Danial. I want to get to the bottom of this mystery.'

Danial nodded, knowing that the prince's words were not just a command but a shared determination to uncover the truth. Together, they would unravel the enigma that surrounded Nazia's sudden recovery and the mysterious events that had transpired.Nazia's worried expression mirrored her mother's as she approached her. 'Mother, you know Salina...she's alive! I saw her, the one who treated Uncle Riaz and fixed my face...it was Salina, not Anii!'

Mrs. Mansabdar's eyes widened in surprise. 'What are you talking about, Nazia? Salina was...'

Nazia cut her off, her words tumbling out in a rush. 'I know, Mother! Salina was the only one who mastered the medical field. She knew every treatment for every illness...she was a genius!'

Mrs. Mansabdar's face reflected her concern. 'What's wrong, Nazia? You're shaking.'

Nazia's voice trembled. 'I'm scared, Mother. I'm scared of what Salina might do next. She...she seemed so mysterious and powerful.'

Mrs. Mansabdar embraced her daughter, holding her close. 'Don't worry.Mrs. Mansabdar's expression turned from concern to shock as she held Nazia close. 'Don't worry, tell me, what does she want?'

Nazia's voice was barely above a whisper. 'She wants to divorce Shazad, Mother.'

Mrs. Mansabdar's eyes widened in fear. 'Oh no, Nazia...now I understand everything. Salina is taking revenge on us...all that's happened recently, she's behind it...'

Nazia's eyes were filled with tears. 'Mom, I know...I think she's dangerous for us. We need to do something before she does something worse...'

As they held each other, a sinister smile spread across their faces, a smile that hinted they knew a secret, a secret that could change everything.

Their whispers turned to urgent murmurs, their fear and anxiety palpable as they contemplated the extent of Salina's revenge and how to protect themselves from her wrath. The air was thick with tension, their smiles masking the desperation and dread that gripped their hearts.Salina swept into the restaurant, her entrance akin to a dark storm cloud, her presence commanding attention. She was a vision in black, her dress hugging her curves like a shroud, and her raven hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of night. Her eyes gleamed with a mischievous light as she took a seat at the finest table, her gaze scanning the menu with the intensity of a hawk.

"Bring me everything," she purred, her voice husky and confident, like a siren's call. "I want to taste it all."

The waiter's eyes widened, but he nodded obediently, scurrying off to fulfill her request. And so, the feast began. Dish after dish arrived, a parade of culinary delights that would have made even the most discerning gourmands swoon.

There was the creamy Risotto alla Milanese, infused with the rich flavor of saffron and the tender bite of ossobuco. The Bruschetta, toasted to a golden crisp and topped with a tumble of juicy tomatoes and basil, fragrant as a summer garden. The Pasta Carbonara, a velvety tapestry of eggs, cream, and Parmesan, each strand a perfect al dente caress. And the Pizza Margherita, a classic beauty, its crust crackling like a firework, its sauce and cheese a harmonious union of flavors.

Salina devoured each dish with gusto, her senses reveling in the explosion of flavors and textures. She was a woman on a mission, a queen celebrating her triumph. With each bite, she savored the taste of her revenge, the curse of the royal house unfolding like a dark tapestry.

And when the bill arrived, a staggering 3 million Italian currency, she merely smiled, a cold, calculating smile, as if to say, "It's a small price to pay for the downfall of my enemies."

The staff breathed a collective sigh of relief. They knew they had just served a woman who was not to be trifled with, a woman who would stop at nothing to claim what was hers. And as they whispered among themselves, their eyes would meet, filled with a mix of awe and fear, for they knew they had just witnessed a true mastermind at work, a woman who would bring the royal house to its knees.As she pushed back her chair and rose from her seat, the sound of her heels echoing through the restaurant was like a declaration of independence. She walked with a confident stride, her head held high, her shoulders squared, and a subtle smile playing on her lips. It was as if she was savoring the taste of victory, of finally achieving what she had long desired.

"After many years, I taste this today..." she whispered to herself, the words dripping with satisfaction. "Now it's my turn..."

Her eyes gleamed with a fierce light, a sense of triumph and retribution. She was a woman who had been wronged, but now she was taking back control. She was the queen of her own world, and no one was going to take that away from her.

As she walked out of the restaurant, the doors swinging open with a soft whoosh, she felt the cool breeze on her face, carrying the whispers of the staff and the diners. They were all watching her, mesmerized by her presence, her aura of power and determination.

She didn't look back, didn't need to. She knew she had left a lasting impression, a trail of fire that would burn bright for a long time to come. And as she disappeared into the night, the city lights twinkling like diamonds around her, she knew that nothing would ever be the same again.Shazad's study room was a sanctuary of masculinity, with dark wood paneling and leather-bound tomes that seemed to whisper secrets to each other. The prince himself sat behind a massive oak desk, his piercing gaze fixed on Nazia as she entered. Her slender figure seemed to tremble, like a leaf caught in a whirlwind, as she approached him.

"Why have you come here, Nazia?" Shazad's deep voice was laced with concern. "You summoned me to your chambers, and now you appear before me, troubled. What's amiss?"

Nazia's voice was barely above a whisper. "I had a terrible dream, Prince. A horror that left me shaken."

Shazad's expression softened, his eyes filling with empathy. "Fear not, my dear. I am always with you, to shield you from the shadows."

Nazia's gaze fluttered, like a bird searching for refuge. "There's something I must tell you, Shazad. Something that weighs heavily on my heart."

Shazad leaned forward, his voice encouraging. "Speak, Nazia. Share your burden with me."

Nazia's words tumbled out, like a river bursting its banks. "I want you to divorce Salina. She's gone, vanished into the unknown. I can't bear the thought of being called your mistress. If you grant her a divorce, I can become your wife, your true companion."

The room seemed to hold its breath, as if the very air was heavy with anticipation. Shazad's face remained impassive, a mask of calm, but his eyes betrayed a turmoil brewing within. The silence stretched, like a taut bowstring, waiting for the prince's response. And yet, he said nothing, his silence a palpable force that left Nazia's heart suspended in mid-air, like a bird in flight, unsure of its destination.The next morning, Shazad's office was shrouded in an unsettling silence, the air thick with tension. The prince sat behind his desk, his eyes fixed on some invisible point, his expression a mask of determination. Secretary Danial entered, his footsteps echoing through the room, and approached the desk with a sense of trepidation.

"Your Highness, you summoned me?" Danial asked, his voice laced with caution.

"Prepare the divorce papers, Danial. I want to end my marriage to Salina."

Danial's eyes widened in shock, his mouth agape. "A-aa-ah, Your Highness? Wh-what?"

Shazad's stare was unyielding, his eyes piercing through the secretary's very soul. Danial felt a shiver run down his spine as he nodded hastily.

"A-ah, yes, of course, Your Highness. I-I'll see to it immediately."

With a nervous bow, Danial beat a hasty retreat, his mind racing with the implications of the prince's sudden decision. The silence in the office seemed to grow thicker, a palpable force that weighed heavily on the air, as Shazad's resolve became clear: he would divorce Salina, no matter the cost.Giovanni burst into the room, his eyes blazing with curiosity. "Sister, mom was saying that you saw Salina? Is this true? And what did mom say she wants?"

Nazia's eyes darted around the room, as if searching for an escape from the interrogation. "You didn't believe me when I told you I saw Salina, Giovanni," she said, her voice laced with a hint of frustration.

Giovanni's expression turned skeptical. "Come on, Nazia, tell me the truth. What's going on?"

Nazia took a deep breath, her shoulders squaring in resignation. "Okey, okey, silence, everyone. Yes, it's true. I saw Salina."

The room fell silent, as if the very air was holding its breath. Giovanni's eyes widened, his mind racing with questions. "What did she want, Nazia? What did she say?"

Nazia's gaze dropped, her voice barely above a whisper. "She wants Shazad to divorce her. She's gone, Giovanni, and she wants to be free from him."

The room erupted into a chorus of gasps and whispers, the news spreading like wildfire. Giovanni's eyes locked onto Nazia, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief. "And what about Shazad? What does he say about all this?"

Nazia's eyes flashed with a hint of fear. "I don't know, Giovanni. But I think he's going to do it. He's going to divorce her."As Shazad's pen scratched across the paper, a collective breath was exhaled. The divorce papers, once a symbol of hope and new beginnings, now seemed to writhe and twist like a living serpent. The lawyer's eyes gleamed with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation as he beheld the prince's signature.

And in that moment, a beast was unshackled.

Chains of restraint, forged from the very fabric of Shazad's soul, burst asunder. A maelstrom of emotions, long imprisoned, now raged forth like a tempest. The air seemed to vibrate with the force of his fury, his pain, his liberation.

"It is done.The shackles are broken. The beast is free."

For in that instant, Shazad's signature had unleashed a force both fierce and wild, a power that would reshape the very landscape of their lives. The divorce papers, once a simple legal document, had become a declaration of war – a war against the constraints of society, against the chains of his own heart, and against the very fabric of his existence.Shazad's eyes locked onto Nazia's, his gaze burning with intensity. "I have done it, Nazia. I have granted Salina her divorce."

Nazia's face remained a mask of serenity, her expression unreadable. "I thought you wouldn't do it," she said, her voice laced with a hint of surprise, but devoid of emotion.

"I would do anything for you, Nazia. Anything to make you happy."

Nazia's gaze never wavered, her eyes fixed on Shazad's face."

" You deserve freedom, happiness...and I would do anything to give it to you."

Nazia's expression remained enigmatic, but a faint flicker of emotion danced in her eyes, like a candle flame in the wind. She turned away, her movements graceful, but laced with a hint of sadness.

As they signed the divorce papers, they had no inkling of the chaos they were unleashing. Unwittingly, they were extending an invitation to a wild animal, a force of nature hell-bent on destruction and revenge. The papers, once a symbol of liberation, had transformed into a siren's call, beckoning the beast to emerge from its lair. With each stroke of the pen, they were inadvertently unleashing a maelstrom of fury, a tempest that would ravage their lives and leave nothing but ruin in its wake. The divorce papers, once a mere legal document, had become a harbinger of doom, a clarion call to the very forces of destruction they had sought to escape. And as they exchanged the papers, they were, in effect, signing their own doom, summoning a power that would reduce their world to ashes.

You are engrossed in ego right now, let some time pass my dear

You will be so sorry for what you have done that you will cry yourself.She sat on the chair, her eyes glazed over, lost in the haze of her memories. Her mind wandered back to the day when her life changed forever. She remembered the sound of shattering glass, the scent of smoke, and the feeling of her world crumbling around her.

As she sat there, her thoughts transported her to a place where laughter and love once filled the air. She recalled the warmth of her mother's embrace, the sound of her father's laughter, and the joy of her siblings' playful antics. But like a fleeting dream, it all vanished, leaving behind only the bitter taste of sorrow and regret.

Her gaze remained fixed on some point in the distance, her mind trapped in the quicksand of her memories, reliving the moments that had defined her life. The chair creaked softly as she shifted her weight, the only sound in the silence that surrounded her. Time stood still as she sat there, lost in the labyrinth of her thoughts, searching for a way out, but unable to escape the shackles of her past.Nazia's hands trembled as she handed her the divorce papers. "Here, take it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You're free now. Free from this family, from this life. You've made it clear you don't want to be a part of it anymore."

She took the papers, her expression serene, her eyes calm and cool. "Thank you, Nazia," she said, her voice even. "I appreciate your understanding."

Nazia's eyes flashed with anger and hurt, but she said nothing. She had expected anger, tears, or remorse, but this calm acceptance was unsettling.

"You're not even sorry?" Nazia asked, her voice cracking. "You're not even sorry for what you've done?"

She smiled, a small, enigmatic smile. "Sorry for what, Nazia? For wanting to be free? For wanting to live my life on my own terms? No, I'm not sorry. And soon, you'll see that this is the best thing that's happened to all of us."She muttered to herself, her voice laced with a mix of anger and sorrow, "You're consumed by your ego right now, but just wait, my dear. Time will reveal the truth, and you'll be left to face the ruins of your own making. You'll weep for what you've done, and the tears will be bitter."

Her face contorted in a mixture of pain and self-rebuke, her lips twisting into a snarl. She shook her head, as if trying to shake off the weight of her own regret. Her brow furrowed, deep lines etched on her forehead, a testament to the turmoil brewing inside. Her words hung in the air, a harsh indictment of her own actions, a prophecy of the sorrow to come."Who says you that I never leave you?" she whispered, her voice a gentle breeze that carried the weight of a thousand unspoken words. "He will be too much disappointed, that you will leave him." The phrase hung in the air, a delicate petal suspended from a thread of silk, its beauty and fragility a stark contrast to the turmoil that churned beneath.

She paused, her eyes sparkling like diamonds in the sunlight, as she gazed upon the royal family with a mixture of sorrow and determination. "Now, ready royal family, I am coming." The words were a gentle warning, a whisper of a storm that was yet to come, a promise of a reckoning that would shake the very foundations of their kingdom.

Her presence was a gentle zephyr that rustled the leaves of their hearts, a reminder that the winds of change were blowing, and that the status quo would soon be no more. The royal family trembled, their faces pale and worried, as they realized that the gentle breeze that had once caressed their kingdom was now a raging tempest that would leave no stone unturned .He sat in the meeting, his eyes glazing over as the discussion dragged on. But his mind was elsewhere, transported to a different time and place. He was back in the hospital, gazing into those piercing eyes that seemed to see right through him. Eyes that had sparkled like diamonds in the sunlight, yet had been shrouded in mystery, their owner's face hidden behind a veil of secrecy.

As he sat there, lost in thought, a faint smile crept onto his lips, a hint of a secret only he knew. The room fell silent, all eyes on him, wondering what had brought on that enigmatic smile.

"Meeting adjourned," he declared, his voice low and commanding, like a king dismissing his court.

The room erupted into chaos, chairs scraping, papers shuffling, as the team scrambled to gather their things. But he just sat there, his eyes still lost in the depths of those mysterious eyes, a hint of a smile still playing on his lips. He knew a secret, and he was the only one who did. And with that thought, he stood up, like a boss, and walked out of the room, leaving the others to wonder what had just happened.Giovanni pushed open the creaky door, his heart racing with every step. Fear gripped his chest like a vice, making it hard to breathe. He had been warned not to enter this house, but curiosity had gotten the better of him. Now, he regretted it.

As he stepped inside, the door slammed shut behind him, and he heard the sound of locks clicking into place. Giovanni's eyes widened in terror. He was trapped.

With trembling hands, he fumbled for his phone, but it was dead. No signal. No escape.

He crept forward, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. The air was thick with the scent of decay and rot. Giovanni's stomach churned with dread.

Suddenly, a faint whisper seemed to caress his ear. "Welcome, Giovanni. You shouldn't have come here."

Giovanni spun around, but there was no one in sight. The voice seemed to come from all around him, echoing off the walls.

With a surge of adrenaline, he sprinted up the stairs, his footsteps echoing through the silent house. He burst into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

But as he turned to lock it, he saw it. A figure standing in the corner, watching him. Waiting for him.

Giovanni's scream was lost in the darkness, as the figure began to move closer, its presence suffocating him.

And then, everything went black.

The next morning, a faint knock on the door broke the silence. Alex, Giovanni's best friend, had arrived to check on him after a night of worry. But as he entered the house, he sensed something was off. The air was heavy with an eerie stillness.

He climbed the stairs, his feet creaking on the wooden floorboards. As he approached the bedroom, a faint smell of decay wafted out, making his stomach turn.

Alex pushed open the door, and a gasp escaped his lips. Giovanni's lifeless body lay on the bed, his eyes frozen in a permanent stare. A look of terror was etched on his face, as if he had seen something unspeakable in his final moments.

A scream tore from Alex's throat as he stumbled backward, his hands flying to his mouth. He had seen death before, but never like this. Never with such a look of horror frozen on the victim's face.

Alex frantically dialed the Italian police emergency number, 112, but before he could even finish dialing, the phone flew out of his hand. He tried to run, but his feet felt heavy, as if rooted to the spot.

Suddenly, the room began to spin, and Alex felt a searing pain in his chest. He tried to scream, but his voice was silenced by some unseen force.

As he fell to the ground, he saw the figure from the hidden room standing before him, its eyes burning with an otherworldly intensity. The figure raised a hand, and Alex felt his life slipping away.

The last thing he saw was the figure's face, twisted in a grotesque grin, before everything went black.

The police found Alex's body in the basement, his phone still clutched in his hand, the number 112 still visible on the screen. It was as if he had been trying to call for help, but it was too late. The symbols on the wall seemed to pulse with a malevolent energy, as if they had claimed another victim.

The police were baffled by the case, unable to explain the strange occurrences or the gruesome deaths. The house remained standing, a haunting reminder of the horrors that had taken place within its walls.The police station was buzzing with activity as detectives and forensic experts gathered around a large table, covered with files and evidence. The latest string of murders had left them stumped, with each victim dying in a different and seemingly unrelated way.

There was Giovanni, found dead in his bed with no signs of struggle or trauma. Next to his file was Alex's, who had died in the basement of the same house, with strange symbols etched into the walls.

As they delved deeper, they discovered more victims, each with their own unique circumstances. But as they dug deeper, they noticed a common thread - a small pink ribbon tied around each victim's wrist.

Detective Maria's eyes widened as she realized the significance. "This isn't just a coincidence. Our killer is leaving a signature."

The team began to re-examine each crime scene, searching for any other clues that might have been missed.

The pink ribbon was more than just a signature - it was a calling card, left by a killer who wanted to taunt them, to show that they were always one step ahead.

As the detectives continued their investigation, they knew they had to work fast. The killer was still out there, and the next victim could be just around the corner.The funeral of Giovanni was a somber affair, with Nazia, Shazad, and the entire community gathered to pay their respects. Mrs. Mansabdar, Giovanni's mother, was overcome with grief, her eyes red and puffy from crying.

Nazia, Giovanni's sister, stood beside her, holding her hand and trying to offer comfort. Her own eyes were brimming with tears, as she struggled to come to terms with the loss of her beloved brother.

Shazad, Giovanni's friend, looked on, his face etched with sadness. He had never imagined that their late-night conversations and laughter would come to an end so suddenly.

As the priest began to speak, the mourners bowed their heads in respect. The silence was broken only by the sound of sniffles and quiet sobs.

Mrs. Mansabdar's voice cracked as she spoke of her son, remembering his bright smile and kind heart. Nazia's voice trembled as she shared stories of their childhood, and the memories they had made together.

Shazad's eyes welled up as he recalled the good times they had shared, the adventures they had planned, and the dreams they had chased.

As the service came to a close, the mourners filed past the casket, paying their final respects to Giovanni. Nazia and Mrs. Mansabdar clung to each other, their grief shared, but never to be forgotten.Nazia and Giovanni were sitting on the floor of their playroom, surrounded by toys and colorful blocks. They were building a fort together, their imaginations running wild.

Nazia, with her curly brown hair and bright smile, was carefully placing a block on top of the structure, while Giovanni, with his messy blond hair and mischievous grin, was trying to knock it down.

"Giovanni, no! We have to make it strong!" Nazia giggled, trying to protect their creation.

"But, Nazia, I'm the dragon! I have to knock down the castle!" Giovanni exclaimed, making roaring sounds and stomping his feet.

Their mother, Mrs. Mansabdar, walked into the room, a warm smile on her face. "What's all the commotion about?"

Nazia and Giovanni looked up at her, their eyes shining with excitement. "Giovanni's being a dragon, Mommy!" Nazia said.

Mrs. Mansabdar chuckled. "Well, I think the dragon needs to let the princess build her castle in peace."

Giovanni pouted playfully, but eventually joined Nazia in building the fort. Together, they created a magnificent structure, with towers and moats, and even a drawbridge made of a wooden spoon.

As they sat inside their fort, surrounded by blankets and pillows, Nazia turned to Giovanni and whispered, "You're the best brother in the whole world, Giovanni."

Giovanni grinned, his eyes sparkling. "You're the best sister, Nazia!"The sun was setting over the cemetery, casting a golden glow over the mourners gathered to pay their respects to Giovanni and Alex. Two graves, side by side, bore witness to the tragic fate of the two friends.

As the service concluded, a figure emerged from the shadows. Her eyes gleamed with a sinister light as she gazed upon the graves. A slow, menacing smile spread across her face, revealing crooked teeth.

She seemed to be savoring the moment, reveling in the pain and suffering of others. Her gaze lingered on Giovanni's grave, then shifted to Alex's, and her smile grew wider.

"The two of them, finally silenced," she whispered to herself. "Giovanni, the meddling fool, and Alex, the curious detective. They should have stayed out of my way."

The wind rustled through the trees, carrying the whispers of the dead, as the figure vanished into the darkness, leaving behind a chilling sense of malevolence.Mrs. Mansabdar sat at the dinner table, her eyes fixed on the plate of food in front of her. But she couldn't bring herself to take a bite. The aroma of her favorite dish, once a comfort, now felt like a cruel mockery.

Her husband, Mr. Mansabdar, entered the room, his eyes filled with concern. "Rukhsana, my love, you need to eat. You haven't had anything all day."

Mrs. Mansabdar's gaze snapped up, her eyes blazing with a mix of sorrow and anger. "How can I eat, Mansabdar? How can I even think of food when my brother and my son are gone?"

Mr. Mansabdar approached her, his hands outstretched. "I know it's hard, but we have to keep going. For Giovanni's sake—"

Mrs. Mansabdar's voice rose, her words tumbling out in a torrent of grief. "For his sake? You think food can fill the void they left behind? Firstly, my brother, my beloved brother, and then my son... my Giovanni... How can I bear this pain? You were supposed to protect them, Mansabdar! You were supposed to keep them safe!"

She pushed her chair back, her eyes flashing with a fierce intensity. "You want me to eat? You want me to pretend everything is fine? I won't do it, Mansabdar. I won't forget my children, my family. I won't betray their memory by living as if nothing's wrong!"Nazia sat on her bed, her eyes fixed on the photo of her and Giovanni in happier times. Tears streamed down her face as she clutched the frame to her chest.

She remembered the countless times they had shared secrets, laughed together, and supported each other through thick and thin. Giovanni had been more than just a brother; he was her best friend, her confidant, her protector.

The pain of his loss felt like a gaping hole in her heart, a constant ache that refused to subside. Nazia's thoughts were filled with memories of their last conversations, their last laughs, their last goodbyes.

She recalled the day he had left for the detective agency, full of determination and purpose. She had been so proud of him, and now... now he was gone.

Nazia's sobs intensified, her body shaking with grief. She felt like a part of her had been ripped away, leaving her with a void that could never be filled.

As she wept, she whispered her brother's name, hoping that somehow, someway, he would hear her and come back to her. But deep down, she knew it was just a desperate plea to a silence that would never be broken.

The darkness closed in around her, and Nazia felt like she was drowning in her sorrow, unable to escape the crushing weight of her loss.Giovanni, a determined detective, sat at his desk, staring at the cold cup of coffee in front of him. It had been two months since his uncle, a respected police officer, was found dead in the garden of his own home. The case was still unsolved, and Giovanni was determined to crack it.

As he poured over the files, a name kept popping up: "Vladimir". Giovanni's instincts told him that this was the key to solving the case. He decided to pay a visit to Vladimir's address, a rundown warehouse on the outskirts of town.

As he approached the building, Giovanni noticed something strange. The windows were boarded up, and the door was covered in cobwebs. He pushed open the creaky door and stepped inside.

The air was thick with dust, and the only sound was the creaking of old wooden beams. Giovanni called out, "Vladimir? Are you here?"

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows. Giovanni's heart raced as he realized it wasn't Vladimir, but a mysterious stranger.

"Who are you?" Giovanni demanded, his hand instinctively reaching for his gun.

The stranger smiled, his eyes glinting with malice. "Just a concerned citizen. You're getting close to the truth, Giovanni. Too close."

Giovanni's mind raced. Who was this stranger? What did he want?

The stranger leaned in, his voice menacing. "Your uncle was onto something big, Giovanni. Something that could bring down powerful people. And now, you're in the way."

Giovanni knew he had to act fast. He lunged at the stranger, but he was too quick. A blow to the head sent Giovanni crashing to the ground.

As he lay there, dazed and confused, Giovanni knew he had stumbled into something much bigger than he had ever imagined. And now, he was in grave danger.

The stranger's parting words echoed in Giovanni's mind: "You'll never find out who's behind this. But they'll find you."Giovanni slowly opened his eyes, groggily taking in his surroundings. He was in the warehouse, the same place where he had confronted the stranger. Panic set in as he scrambled to his feet and ran out into the night, desperate to escape the danger that lurked.

He didn't stop until he reached his own house, bursting through the front door in a state of distress.

But when Alex arrived at Giovanni's house the next morning, he found his friend lying lifeless in his bed, a victim of the sinister forces that had been hunting him.

Alex's scream echoed through the neighborhood as he called for backup, but before the police could arrive, he too fell victim to the same forces, his body found just minutes later in the same house, a tragic coincidence that left the authorities baffled.

The two friends, both detectives, had been killed in the same place, in different ways, leaving behind a trail of unanswered questions and a case that would haunt the police department for years to come.King Riaz called his son, Shazad, to his chambers, a serious expression on his face. "Shazad, I want to discuss your marriage to Nazia. As you know, the engagement was arranged some time ago, and I think it's time for the wedding to take place."

Shazad hesitated, looking uncomfortable. "Father, I know we've discussed this before, but I don't think this is the right time. Nazia has just lost her brother, and she's still grieving. I don't want to rush her into anything she's not ready for."

King Riaz's expression turned thoughtful, considering his son's words. "You're right, Shazad. I hadn't thought of that. Losing a loved one is never easy, and Nazia must be given the time and space to mourn. But I also believe that your marriage could bring her comfort and support during this difficult time."

Shazad nodded understandingly. "I agree, Father. But let's not rush into anything. Let's give Nazia the time she needs to heal, and then we can proceed with the wedding plans."

King Riaz placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "You're a wise and compassionate young man, Shazad. I trust your judgment. We'll wait until Nazia is ready, and then we'll proceed with the wedding plans. Together, we'll support her through this difficult time."

Shazad smiled, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. "Thank you, Father. I think that's the best decision for everyone involved."

The king and his son sat in silence for a moment, considering the weight of their words. Finally, King Riaz spoke up, "Let us pray for Nazia's comfort and healing during this difficult time."