Rohit grinned as the mail notification popped up.
Inside was a link that generated an APK. The moment he clicked it, a virtual model of Aisha's phone appeared on his screen, ready for remote access.
The trap had worked perfectly. The mail was triggered the instant Aisha joined the Zoom call, her phone shared all permissions, granting full access. Her phone was wide open—and she had no idea.
A simulation of a OnePlus Nord CE5 appeared, its user status glowing online. That status meant Aisha was active, though the preview was locked on the home screen. This setup allowed Rohit to access her phone in parallel without interrupting her usage.
His pointer hovered over the gallery icon, but he paused. Instead, he clicked over to her messages first.
"Nice," he muttered with a crooked grin. "Let's see what secrets you're hiding, my dear cousin."
Rohit opened WhatsApp and skimmed through Aisha's chats.
Almost instantly, the pieces fell into place. Her parents were planning to visit in a few days, worried that Rohit's growing prominence might overshadow their standing with the family matriarch. Aisha had been instructed to sabotage him—to smear his image and delay, if not completely derail, his visit to the patriarch's house for the upcoming banquet.
Scrolling further, Rohit's jaw tightened. Every little thing he and the others did had been reported back to her mother, who, in turn, filled Aisha's head with venomous schemes.
"I knew it," Rohit muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing at the screen. "She's the mastermind… fucking snake. And that aunt of mine—she's a bitch too."
In short, both cousins had been acting as spies for their mother. Every move the family made was reported back, and their main objective was clear—torment Rohit.
As he scrolled further, his frown deepened. Aisha had recently been asking her mother for more money, but each request was brushed aside. The excuses were vague, almost evasive.
Switching over to her default messages, Rohit uncovered the real story. She had taken a massive loan from the bank, poured it into crypto, and ended up scammed—losing everything.
A slow grin spread across his face. At last, he had found a lead.
Rohit switched back to WhatsApp, skimming through more chats.
A few made him chuckle. Some of the schoolboys—pathetic simps—were still proposing to her, offering favors just for the chance at a simple lunch together.
Then there were the girls, so-called delinquents who played tough in public but acted like her lackeys in private. They even shared bikini pictures as a kind of tribute, their way of showing "respect" to their queen. Rohit shook his head, grinning at how ridiculous it all looked.
He skipped over the group chats, which were nothing but toxic roasts and petty hate against classmates.
But then his eyes froze on one particular thread—Victor.
The tone was different. Darker. He was threatening her, holding onto some secret, and demanding favors in return. The way the messages were phrased made it clear the terms were meant for Aisha alone—personal, deliberate.
Victor even referenced an email as proof, using it as leverage and warning her not to breathe a word to anyone.
Rohit leaned back, eyes narrowing. He felt a surge of curiosity. Before opening the mail, he clicked on the gallery.
Rows of thumbnails appeared—photos and videos. He chose photoes, and it was what he expected: cosplay shots, countless selfies, even a few nude ones. He felt amused for the treat to his eyes, as he scrolled.
But then he opened the first video, and the smirk vanished. His stomach turned.
Aisha and her gang weren't just schoolyard bullies. They targeted other girls, be it classmates or juniors, who dared to step out of line.
Victims were cornered, humiliated, and filmed—sometimes roughed up, sometimes forced into degrading acts—until they broke down. Occasionally, they demanded ransom, though it was clear the real aim was cruelty, not money.
Tanya's voice rang out clearly in several clips, confirming her involvement. Rohit scanned through the files one by one, his jaw tight. Thankfully, Seo-yeong wasn't among the victims—perhaps her compliant nature had spared her.
Still, the element of force hit a nerve. Rohit despised it. His own civilian life had once been ruined by something similar, and just last night Ragini had nearly fallen into the same trap—if not for him.
He exhaled slowly, steadying his thoughts, then turned back to check the mail.
Among the pile of mails, one stood out. The sender's name read WhiteGhost, and the subject line was blunt: "Dare not ignore."
Rohit's interest sharpened.
The message was direct, almost threatening. The sender demanded an arrangement with Aisha—on his terms—insisting it be kept hidden from her sister Tanya. Attached was a cloud link, which Rohit immediately pegged as blackmail material.
When he opened it, his eyes widened. What he saw left him stunned.
It contained a link to a cloud storage video, which Rohit assumed was blackmail material.
His mind was blown with what he was seeing. She was in a group show of adult nude cam site. She was using a dildo on her ass as she accepted the quest given by her donors.
She was wearing a pink wig to disguise herself, but her face was still recognizable—especially the room behind her, which matched Aisha's exactly.
Every detail confirmed it: this was her.
In the video, WhiteGhost was one of the wealthiest donors, who had tipped her heavily for anal masturbation using a seven-inch dildo, but she was able to take it for half before she squirted on screen. The show was quite horny, as she also earned tons of money from other guest users.
A maniacal grin spread across Rohit's face. He understood the whole scene as he connected all the dots.
Apparently, Aisha is being scammed for cryptocoins, and she is using adult nude sites to stream and earn money. She is able to timely pay her loan installments, but in greed she gets caught by Victor, a donor who is not only her twin sister Tanya's bf but also belongs to the same school.
Rohit muttered, "A bitch like you shall receive no mercy."
He pulled out the other phone he'd used earlier. A "hi" blinked on the screen from her; but he ignored it and typed instead:"I know about brother in law's stuff. If you don't want this going public, come to my room right now — and make sure no one knows. Also, take Tanya's phone on your way back."
He smirked as he felt satisfied, sure he didn't add his name or give details, but he was certain that she got enough hints. It was finally time to do justice for those no-names as his own dark knight rises with rush of excitement.
Meanwhile, two hours earlier, in the twins' room…
Aisha was lounging lazily on her bed, scrolling on her phone, while Tanya paced nearby, fuming.
"I don't get it," Tanya snapped. "Why did you stop me? Are you really scared of that twerp?"
Aisha shot her a sharp look. "You said more than necessary. Our target was Rohit, not the aunt or that hot-headed cousin. Because of your carelessness, she's going to have her eyes on us now, and we'll need to lay low for a while."
Tanya clenched her fists. "Urrgh… this makes no sense! I was targeting that idiot, and she was the one who butted in. I wasn't wrong!" She leaned closer, scrutinizing Aisha's face. "Besides… your face went pale when Rohit threatened you. What was that about?"
Aisha stood, scorn in her eyes. "Even a rat bites back when cornered." Her expression darkened as she recalled his intensity. "And let's not forget—this idiot has forgotten his own restraints. He might pull something risky, something we aren't prepared for."
Tanya flopped onto the bed with a plop, clutching a teddy. "Seriously… he gets all manly over something so wrong." She squeezed it tightly, as if strangling him. "I wish I could do this to the real him."
Aisha rolled her eyes and tossed a pillow at her sister. "Now keep that thing back—it's mine."
Tanya stormed out in disappointment and eventually collapsed back onto the bed to sleep.
About half an hour later, her phone buzzed with a message about a collaboration. She jumped up immediately. Since Victor had caught her before, she had stopped doing private shows and was now relying on ad-related gigs. This message felt like a blessing. She quickly typed "Hi."
But then she hesitated. Instantly messaging might make her seem desperate and lower her value. She decided to check the profile first. The content and images looked promising, so she clicked the link.
A pop-up asked for permission to access personal storage and media—she accepted with mild annoyance. But nothing happened.
Worry crept in. She rechecked the profile, her mind spiraling with doubts: maybe they considered her desperate and had rejected the collaboration. She debated whether sending another message would help—but finally decided it was better to wait, or perhaps follow up later.
She straightened herself in the mirror, giving herself a quick brush-up for the interview, just in case. Her favorite top hugged her curves perfectly, and she winked at her reflection, satisfied. To pass the time, she scrolled through her group chat, laughing at memes and simps begging for her approval.
Half an hour later, the message came again from the same profile. But this time, the content stole the ground from beneath her feet. It alluded to her brother-in-law and instructed her to come to the sender's room secretly.
Nothing explicit was written—but the image that formed in her mind was unmistakable. It was Rohit.
She hiccupped, and her face went pale.