Location: Ira's Flat, City D | 6:23 PM
Aarav lay resting on the silk-draped guest bed, shoulder stitched, pain dulled by morphine. Ira sat at the dining table, her bloodstained coat replaced with her mother's old shawl — the same one Neelima used to wear during late-night study sessions.
The note sat between her fingers, its slanted handwriting a whisper from the grave.
"To Ira N.K. When the silence becomes too loud to ignore."
Below it — a six-digit string: 67-04-91. And a city: Lucerne.
Her uncle confirmed what she suspected: the number matched an old private vault from the Bank Vonderstein, one of Switzerland's most discreet heritage banks, once used by royals, arms dealers — and apparently, Neelima Kapoor.
Location: Lucerne, Switzerland | Bank Vonderstein – Private Wing, Time: 2:11 PM, Two Days Later
The marble floors echoed beneath her heels as Ira descended into the subterranean vaults, escorted by a stiff-lipped vault administrator.
She keyed in the digits: 67-04-91. The lock clicked.
Inside:A worn manila envelope
A small, matte-black USB drive
A folded letter addressed to Ira in Neelima's handwriting
And most shockingly: the original shareholder certificate of Bansal Intellectual Property Holdings, signed by Anupam Bansal's father, officially naming IRA as his primary legacy heir.
It had a timestamp: 3 weeks before his "natural" death.
Back in the Kapoor apartment, Ira plugged in the pen drive.
The screen flickered. Then: a grainy video file, time-stamped 2005, in a parking basement, somewhere in City P.
Mahesh Madhvan stood before a man, yelling — then striking. Moments later, he grabbed a metal pipe and smashed it over the man's skull. The man crumpled. Unmoving.
The camera, hidden in a security casing, caught everything. A minute later, Anupam Bansal walked into frame.
Bansal (panicked): "You idiot! You said you'd just threaten him!"
Mahesh: "He was going to leak. He needed silence."
Bansal (whispers): "This footage is in the building servers. I'm pulling it before anyone sees."
And he did. But apparently… he didn't destroy it.
Neelima did.
Inside Neelima's letter: "Ira, If you're reading this, I'm gone. But they didn't kill me for love. They killed me for silence."
Anupam kept this video as leverage against Mahesh. That's why Mahesh invested millions in Bansal's. Not out of belief — out of fear.
I stole it. I switched the server drives. I hid the proof in this locker. And now… it's yours. They erased my voice. Let them hear yours instead.
–Mom"
Ira stared at the final line, etched in blue ink: "Stitch the truth, even if it draws blood."
Armed with the certificate and the video, Ira met Aarav.
"This isn't just evidence," she said. "It's leverage. It's power."
"You're going to expose it?"
"Not yet. First, I'll bleed them from within."
"The Return of Blood"
Location: City D, Country I| Café Allegiance, Time: 6:13 PM, The Day Before the Bansal Board Meeting
The café was discreet — a restored colonial relic, all dark wood and slow jazz, where secrets often tasted sweeter than espresso. Outside, the city rumbled with its usual chaos, but inside, time slowed.
Ira Bansal — or rather, Ira N.K., as she signed now — sat alone near the arched window. She wore a simple black silk blouse, her hair pulled back, and her mother's shawl draped over her chair like a relic of resistance.
On the table: a cup of Darjeeling tea, cooling. Beside it: a thick manila envelope marked "PRIVATE — BANSAL."
And next to that: a folded letter , face-down. She didn't look up when the door opened. But she felt the air shift.
Anupam Bansal, chairman of Bansal Holdings, entered — alone. His frame had filled with age, but the arrogance hadn't thinned. His eyes scanned the room. When they landed on her, they flickered with disbelief... and something else. Recognition.
He walked over.
Anupam (low voice): "You sent the pen drive."
Ira (without emotion): "You watched it, I assume."
He sat. Slowly. Not like a man in control — but like a man calculating.
Anupam: "That footage... it was destroyed. I saw to it."
Ira: "No. You thought it was destroyed. My mother made sure it wasn't."
She slid the manila envelope toward him. His fingers hesitated before touching it.
Ira (quietly): "You think the things you buried won't dig themselves out one day? You were wrong."
Anupam (hoarse): "Who... who are you?"
Ira (locking eyes): "I'm Ira N.k. Kapoor. Your first wife daughter ."
Silence fell like ash.
For a moment, Anupam looked as if the ground had shifted beneath him.
Anupam: "You were never supposed to—your mother... she said—"
Ira: "She said I was safer dead than forgotten. She was wrong too. I'm very much alive."
She took a sip of tea, calm, ruthless.
Ira: "Let's skip sentiment, Mr. Bansal. I didn't call you here for a reunion. I want something."
Anupam: "What?"
Ira: "Your shares."
He flinched.
Anupam (choking): "You? You want my shares?"
Ira (flatly): "They were never yours. That certificate in the vault? Your father named me his legacy heir. Signed. Stamped. Three weeks before his death."
She leaned forward, voice velvet and venom.
Ira: "You can hand them over quietly. Or I can release that video file — along with a full timeline of how Mahesh Madhvan killed a man for your deal, and how you covered it up. Not out of business loyalty. Out of cowardice."
Anupam: "You'd destroy the company your family built?"
Ira: "You destroyed it the day you turned my mother into a liability. I'm just here to claim what's mine."
He stared at her. The facade cracked — pride bleeding into fear.
Ira: "Oh. And tomorrow morning, during the board meeting, you're going to announce something else."
Anupam (quietly): "What?"
Ira (deadly calm): "That I'm the new Chairwoman of Bansal Holdings."
A flicker of rage passed over him, but it didn't last.
Ira: "Make it convincing. Tell the board you're stepping down. That the company needs new blood, bold vision. Say whatever you want. Spin your lies. But sign the transfer. Announce me. Or I play the video."
She rose. Gathered her shawl. Left her tea unfinished.
At the door, she turned.
Ira (softly): "One more thing."
He looked up.
Ira: "You erased my mother's voice. I'll make sure the world hears mine."
Ira's Flat, City D | 7:23 PM
The dim lights in Ira's apartment created soft shadows on the stone-textured walls. Rain tapped faintly against the French windows. A kettle whistled softly in the background before switching off on its own.
Aarav stood near the kitchen island, sleeves rolled up, flipping through a file half-heartedly. He looked up as the main door opened.
Aarav: You're late.
Ira stepped in, her umbrella dripping. Her expression was unreadable. She didn't remove her shoes. She didn't answer.
Aarav (softer): Everything okay?
She walked straight to the shelf, pulled out a small brown envelope, and placed it on the table. Then finally looked at him.
Ira (quiet, controlled): We need to talk. And it's serious.
I want you to leave. Go back to New York. Tomorrow.
Aarav froze.
Aarav: What…? Ira, what are you saying?
Ira (steady): Today, I met Anupam Bansal.
A silence spread across the room like smoke. The kind that presses down on your ribs.
Aarav: You… what happened?
Ira (voice low): He looked me in the eye and asked me if I wanted money… If that's why I'd come back.
(beat) He thinks I'm her daughter — and nothing more. A headline. A ghost. He doesn't know I've already begun digging up the empire he thinks he owns.
Aarav stepped forward, but she held up her hand.
Ira (CONT'D): I don't know what happens next.
But I do know one thing — I'm going to war tomorrow.
And I cannot have anyone or anything they can use against me. Especially you.
Aarav: Ira—
Ira (firmer now): You are my weakness. And tomorrow, I'm going to walk into that boardroom and take on a legacy that tried to erase my mother. They buried her story.They tried to destroy her name.Now I will bury them — with the truth.
A beat of silence.
She steps closer.
Ira (CONT'D): Please, Aarav. Go. Be safe.
Let me fight them without looking over my shoulder.
Aarav looked at her — at the calm fury in her eyes, the heartbreak hidden behind armor.
He finally nodded, quietly.
Aarav: Okay. But you're not alone. Even if you want to be.
Ira (soft): I know.
She turned away before her voice broke. The kettle clicked again, forgotten.
The war had already begun.