She sat on the chair, looking through the glass, waiting to meet him and waiting for Rakesh Malhotra.
He entered the other side of the glass with someone's help, with both eyes gone and white bandages over them. Amara smiled, a sick satisfaction on her face.
"Ah!" A mocking grunt left him.
"How are you?" Amara asked.
"I didn't know you could go that far!" He seethe.
"You should have known it from the start; you are the one who chose me for your son," she said with a cold smile.
"You should know that you are no better than me; you killed two people and ordered a hit on the man who shot you."
"Who shot me?" Amara was confused; she didn't know about that.
"The Sharfuddin's man who shot you, you ordered a hit on him."
Amara sat back for a moment, thinking it over. Who would put it down on her, but why would he?
