part 12

Connaught Place – Babu called out as he opened the door and got into the taxi.

As the taxi moved forward at its steady pace, Babu first lit up his mobile screen to check for any missed calls and then drifted into his thoughts.

To secure a safe and comfortable future, it was crucial for him to arrange a solid financial backup before his exile from this business, and luck seemed to be on his side.

Babu placed the briefcase on the floor between his feet and pondered how that slim, leather-covered, khaki-colored briefcase was the guarantee of his upcoming days filled with comfort and security. For months, he had been waiting for an opportunity, and now, it had finally landed in his hands. The contents of that briefcase had a market value of at least two million rupees, but if he sold it in smaller portions, carefully distributing it, the value could go up to four million. That amount could open doors to a new, safe, and luxurious life for him, and Babu was determined to seize this opportunity.

He had meticulously planned everything down to the last detail. He was certain that unless fate itself betrayed him, his plan was foolproof—success was inevitable.

"Connaught Place is near, sir," the taxi driver said in a plain voice, snapping Babu out of his trance.

He glanced outside.

Connaught Place was a familiar area to him.

"Where exactly do you want to get off, sir?" the driver asked.

"Nowhere," Babu, ever the cautious man, replied. "I've changed my mind. Take me to Daryaganj instead."

"Daryaganj?" the driver asked, surprised.

"Why? What happened?"

"Nothing, sir," the driver said. "You can go wherever you want. I'll still get my fare."

"Good. Let me know when we reach," Babu said. "You'll get more than just the fare."

The driver was pleased and focused back on the road.

Babu, ever alert, glanced behind him to ensure no other vehicle was following. He knew that this trip wasn't for his employers—it was for himself, for his comfortable future, which is why he was being extra cautious.

Once he secured this money, he had already set his future plans in motion. He had read in a story that facial plastic surgery could permanently alter a person's appearance, making them unrecognizable. So, he had done his research, found a doctor in Goa who was known for such procedures, and was willing to perform them for a hefty fee.

Such an operation would make permanent changes to his face, ensuring no one could ever identify him again. An additional advantage was that in this world, he was completely alone. His parents had passed away long ago, and he had no idea where his relatives were—or even who they were. Despite living in Delhi for years, he had no acquaintances outside this business.

Which was perfect.

Overall, Babu was thoroughly satisfied with his plan and had full faith in his luck. If anything could change the course of his future, it was his performance today. This was the defining moment—after this, he would be free and safe.

Just then, the clouds thundered in the sky.

---

Daren Sajwan reached his home in South Delhi after an hour-long drive at around six in the evening.

"You're late today," Saya said, placing his homewear clothes in front of him.

"Yeah, actually, Sameer wanted to discuss something, so we stopped somewhere on the way," Daren replied.

"You were in the office with him all day. Couldn't you have discussed it there?" Saya asked, knowing Sameer as her husband's colleague.

"There was something that couldn't be discussed in the office."

"What kind of thing?"

"Forget that and listen to something more important."

"What?"

"Sameer suggested I take a break for a few days and go on a trip."

"That's a great idea!" Saya immediately showed interest. "It's been a long time since we traveled."

"Exactly."

"So, have you planned something?"

"I was thinking of Goa."

"Goa?"

"Why… don't you like it?"

Instead of answering, Saya lunged at him with excitement.

"Hey… hey… wait!" Daren barely managed to hold her as he fell back onto the bed, only to receive a flurry of kisses from Saya.

"When will we go?" Saya asked after her sudden, passionate attack.

"Let me check my work at the office tomorrow," Daren said. "Then we'll finalize the date."

Saya wrapped herself around him again.

There's a difference between a wife and a mistress. A wife is a permanent arrangement, while a mistress is a temporary convenience.

Yet, even during this passionate evening with Saya, Daren found himself thinking about Neeta.

---

"Where to, sir?" the driver asked. "We're approaching Daryaganj."

Babu looked ahead at the road and began giving directions. Then, something caught his eye.

He noticed that a black Indica had been following them for quite some time.

Babu immediately became alert.

He glanced at the car behind them, and for a moment, it felt like he had been paralyzed. His heartbeat slowed, and his throat went dry. Despite the cool weather, beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

The black Indica trailing closely behind had two monstrous figures in the front seats—Dara and Murad, better known as executioners. Babu knew them well. The duo of Dara-Murad had a reputation for brutality and bloodshed.

At that moment, Babu's eyes met those of Murad, who was behind the wheel.

Murad smiled.

Babu tried to maintain his composure and attempted a weak smile in return.

"Where exactly in Daryaganj, sir?" the driver asked again.

"Nowhere," Babu wiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief and replied in a controlled voice, "Take me to Batla House."

"What?" The driver was stunned. "That far?"

"Why?" Babu asked. "What's the problem?"

"Uh… nothing."

Babu reached forward, slipped a pink banknote into the driver's lap, and said, "Just let me know when we get there."

The driver said nothing more and focused on driving.

The black Indica remained behind them at a constant distance.

Babu once again looked up at the dark sky, where heavy rain seemed imminent.