As the ambulance pulled up to the hospital, the urgency of the situation seemed to hit a new peak. I quickly swung the door open, the cool night air rushing in as we scrambled to get Uncle Rajendra onto the stretcher. The paramedics, swift and efficient, helped guide him out of the ambulance, and together, we rushed him inside the hospital.
The bright fluorescent lights of the emergency room cast a harsh glare, making everything feel surreal. As we moved deeper into the hospital, I caught sight of Dr. Rao hurrying toward us. (A/N:Dr.Rao from chapter 13)
"Mr. Prasad, don't worry, I'll handle this," Dr. Rao assured me, his voice steady and reassuring despite the chaos.
I nodded, grateful for his presence. "Thank you, Doctor," I managed to say, my voice heavy with concern. I watched as Dr. Rao turned to his team, his authority clear in his commands.
"Prepare the operation room," he ordered. The other doctors nodded and immediately sprang into action, wheeling Uncle Rajendra toward the surgical wing.
We followed closely behind, my eyes fixed on the stretcher as it was pushed through the double doors leading to the operation room. The doors swung shut behind them, leaving us standing in the hallway, the sterile smell of the hospital seeping into my senses. The sudden silence felt oppressive, and the tension in the air was almost palpable.
I could feel Balu beside me, his anxiety mirrored in the way he kept clenching and unclenching his fists. I wanted to say something comforting, but the words stuck in my throat. Instead, I kept my eyes on the doors, willing them to open with good news.
It wasn't long before I noticed Rajesh and the unknown middle-aged man approaching us from down the hall. Rajesh's face was a mix of worry and exhaustion, and as he got closer, his concern spilled over into words.
"How's Uncle?" Rajesh asked, his voice trembling slightly as he looked at Balu.
Balu, who had been pacing back and forth, paused for a moment. "I don't know… the doctor hasn't come out yet," he replied, his voice thick with fear.
Rajesh nodded, his eyes flicking toward the operation room doors. We all knew the wait could be long, but the uncertainty gnawed at us. The man who had helped us earlier stood quietly beside Rajesh, his face lined with concern, though he said nothing.
The minutes ticked by slowly, each one stretching out as we stood there, helpless. Balu, usually so composed, looked like he was barely holding it together. I couldn't blame him—seeing his father like that, knowing how much was at stake, it was enough to break anyone.
The tension in the hallway was almost unbearable, the seconds dragging on like hours. Then, suddenly, the door to the operation room swung open, and Dr. Rao stepped out. The sound of the door startled us, and we all turned to face him, our hearts pounding in unison.
Balu was the first to react, rushing toward Dr. Rao with a desperate urgency. "How is Papa?" he asked, his voice laced with fear and hope.
Dr. Rao's expression softened, and a reassuring smile spread across his face. "There's nothing to worry about," he said gently. "He's out of danger now. You can go in and see him, but he's still unconscious. It'll take some time for him to wake up."
The words were like a balm to our frayed nerves. Balu let out a long, relieved sigh, the weight of the world lifting from his shoulders. "Thank you, Doctor. Thank you so much," he said, his voice trembling with gratitude.
Dr. Rao gave a warm smile. "It's nothing, really. It's our duty," he replied, his tone kind and humble. With that, he gave a nod and left us to process the news.
As the doctor walked away, Balu turned to us, his eyes reflecting a mixture of relief and exhaustion. Sridevi placed a comforting hand on Balu's shoulder, her own relief evident in her eyes.
Without another word Balu, Rajan, and Sridevi moved toward the door to Uncle Rajendra's room.
I watched them go. Standing outside with Rajesh and the middle-aged man, I felt a strange mixture of relief and unresolved tension.
As I sat there, the tension of the day weighing on me, I suddenly heard the sound of hurried footsteps echoing through the hospital corridor. I turned to see Bheeshma, Chitra, Ma, Papa, and the girls rushing toward me, concern etched on their faces. A mix of surprise and dread washed over me—what on earth were they doing here?
I quickly stood up, trying to compose myself. Ma reached me first, her eyes brimming with tears as she immediately began examining me, her hands gently patting my arms and shoulders as if searching for unseen wounds. Seeing her like this broke something inside me. "Ma, what happened? Why are you crying?" I asked, my voice soft but strained.
"What do you mean, 'why am I crying'? You left the house saying you had some work, but then we saw on the news that you were involved in a fight! Are you alright? Did you get hurt anywhere?" Her voice trembled, and the tears spilled over, her worry palpable.
I couldn't help but smile, pulling her into a gentle hug. "Nothing happened to your sweet son, Ma. I'm fine, so please don't worry," I whispered, trying to soothe her fears. But I could feel her trembling in my arms, her distress not easily erased.
She pulled back slightly, her eyes scanning me once more, as if needing further reassurance. "You can't just brush this off, Krishna. You scared us all," she chided, though her voice was still thick with emotion.
"I know, Ma, and I'm sorry," I said, looking at the rest of them. But before I could fully process everything, Anu and Aamukta rushed forward and enveloped me in a tight hug, their bodies trembling with emotion as they clung to me. I felt the dampness of their tears soaking through my shirt, their silent cries breaking through the strong front I was trying to maintain.
A small smile tugged at my lips despite the heaviness in the air, and I wrapped my arms around them, pulling them closer. "Not you too, girls," I whispered softly, trying to inject some lightness into my tone. "I'm fine, so don't worry."
But they didn't respond—only hugged me tighter, their sobs muffled against my chest. The weight of their concern pressed down on me, making it harder to keep my own emotions in check. I glanced over their heads at Ammu and Raji, who stood a few steps away, their eyes wide with worry, reflecting the same fear that Anu and Aamukta were feeling.
I reached out a hand toward them, my voice gentle as I said, "You two, come here."
They hesitated for just a moment before stepping forward, and I pulled them into the embrace as well, creating a protective circle around us. The warmth of their bodies against mine, the way they held onto me as if I might disappear—it made something inside me crack.
"I'm sorry for worrying you," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper as I pressed a gentle kiss to each of their foreheads. The simple act of affection, so small yet so profound, seemed to reassure them, though they still held on tightly.
We stayed like that for a long moment, the world outside the hospital fading away as we found comfort in each other's presence. The chaos, the fear, all of it was still there, but in this moment, it felt a little more bearable with them by my side.
Finally, they began to loosen their grip, though none of them fully let go. I could see the traces of their tears, the way their eyes still shimmered with concern, but also with relief. It wasn't just about being safe—it was about being together, facing whatever came our way as a unit.
After that, we stood there in a moment of quiet togetherness. The girls stayed close to me, with Anu and Aamukta still clinging to my sides as if they were afraid to let go. The tension that had been so palpable moments before was slowly ebbing away, replaced by a kind of silent understanding between us all.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, breaking the silence, and I reluctantly pulled it out. Anasuya and Keerthi were calling, their voices laced with worry as they asked about the situation. It took some time to calm them down, reassuring them that I was safe, and that everything was under control. As the calls kept coming in from other close family members, their concern evident in every word, I realized just how many people cared. It was overwhelming, but in a way that made me feel more grounded.
Just as I ended the last call, Balu emerged from the room, his expression a mixture of relief and lingering worry. "Papa is conscious," he said, his voice breaking through the murmur of the hospital corridor.
I nodded, turning to Anu and Aamukta. Their eyes still held traces of worry, but they offered me small, tentative smiles. I placed a gentle hand on each of their shoulders, giving them a reassuring smile in return. "Don't worry, I'll be back in a moment," I said softly.
They nodded, finally letting go of me, and I felt a brief chill where their warmth had been. I took a deep breath and headed toward the hospital room, followed by the middle-aged man, Rajesh, Bheeshma, and Papa.
The moment I stepped inside, the tension in my chest loosened a little more. Uncle Rajendra lay on the hospital bed, his eyes open and filled with a tired but clear light. He looked pale, and the sight of the bandages around his head made my heart clench, but the fact that he was awake was enough to bring a small smile to my face.
"Uncle," I greeted him quietly, stepping closer to the bed. Rajesh and Bheeshma stood behind me, their presence a comforting support.
"Krishna," Uncle Rajendra replied, his voice weak but steady. "Thank you... for everything."
"You don't need to thank me, Uncle," I said, shaking my head. "I'm just glad you're alright."
The middle-aged man, who had followed us in, stepped forward as well, his expression unreadable. I glanced at him, knowing there were questions that needed answers.
As the atmosphere in the room settled back to something resembling normal, I took a deep breath, letting the tension release from my shoulders. The immediate danger had passed, but there were still questions that needed answering. Turning to Rajesh, I gave him a small nod.
"Rajesh, take Rajan outside," I said gently.
Rajesh understood the gravity of the situation and nodded in agreement. I then turned to Rajan, who was still visibly shaken by everything that had happened. Trying to put him at ease, I reached out and ruffled his hair, giving him a reassuring smile.
"Rajan, wait outside, okay? We'll talk later," I said softly.
Rajan's eyes met mine, and he nodded silently before following Rajesh out of the room. The door closed behind them, leaving us with the middle-aged man. His presence had been a quiet one up until now, but I could sense that he held important information—something that might explain the chaos we had just been through.
I fixed my gaze on him, feeling the weight of the unanswered questions pressing on my mind. "So, who are you, and what's the story here?" I asked, my voice steady but firm, signaling that I expected straight answers.
The man, who had remained composed despite the turmoil, straightened his posture slightly and introduced himself. "My name is Narayana Rao," he began, his tone calm yet purposeful. "I'm the trustee of Jagruthi Foundation. The foundation was founded by a royal dynasty in Ananthapur and is responsible for maintaining schools, colleges, hospitals, orphanages, nursing homes, and other social service activities. We oversee thousands of acres of land and serve the community in various ways."
He paused for a moment, letting the weight of his words settle in before continuing. "But there's more to the story. Businessman and criminal Vikram Sarkar," he said, his voice lowering as he spoke the name.
At the mention of Vikram Sarkar, my eyes narrowed. Of course, I knew him—a ruthless figure who was notorious for his underhanded dealings and criminal activities. "That fucker," I muttered under my breath, more to myself than anyone else.
Narayana Rao's gaze met mine, and he seemed to understand the depth of my reaction.Narayana continued, his voice heavy with the weight of the story he was unraveling. "Vikram Sarkar, that snake, had his eyes on the foundation's lands for a long time. He found a loophole—something we never expected. With the original documents missing, he concocted a plan to seize the foundation's assets and build his factory."
He paused, the memories of those dark days clearly painful for him to recount. "I knew we couldn't let that happen. The foundation is more than just property; it's the lifeblood of so many. Schools, hospitals, orphanages—Sarkar didn't care about any of that. He just saw profit. So, I did the only thing I could—I filed a case in the judiciary, promising to produce the rightful heir and the original documents within a month. It was a desperate move, but I had no other choice."
Narayana's eyes darkened as he continued. "After searching for some time, I discovered that the rightful heir, Raja Rao—the last of the royal line—was living in the UK. When I finally managed to contact him and explain the situation, he was shocked. He promised to return to India immediately, to claim his heritage and protect what his ancestors had built. But after four days of waiting, he still hadn't arrived. I tried to reach him, but there was no response. Panic started to set in, and I knew something was terribly wrong."
Narayana's voice trembled slightly as he relived the nightmare. "I flew to the UK, praying that it was just a misunderstanding, that he had simply been delayed. But when I arrived, my worst fears were confirmed. Raja Rao had died in a car accident—a horrific crash that left no survivors except for his young son, Rajan."
The gravity of the situation was becoming clear—this was no accident. "You think it wasn't an accident, don't you?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.
Narayana nodded slowly, his expression grim. "Yes, Mr. Krishna. It wasn't an accident; it was murder. Rajan told me that Vikram Sarkar had met with his father before the crash, trying to pressure him into selling the foundation's assets. Raja Rao refused—he was a man of principle, and he wouldn't betray his ancestors' legacy for money. That's when I realized... Vikram Sarkar had planned the entire thing. He couldn't get what he wanted through legal means, so he resorted to murder."
The room felt colder as Narayana continued. "I was devastated. With Raja Rao gone, I thought all hope was lost. But then Rajan told me something that gave me a glimmer of hope. He said he had the original documents—the ones Vikram Sarkar needed to complete his takeover. Rajan was just a boy, but he understood the responsibility that had fallen on his shoulders. He couldn't abandon his people. He insisted on coming back to India with me, determined to protect what was rightfully his."
Narayana's voice cracked as he recounted their return to India. "When we got back, I went to the authorities, begging for protection. But even there, we were betrayed. Minister leaked our presence to Vikram Sarkar. His men started hunting us down, and we had no choice but to go into hiding. We tried to stay together, but in the chaos, Rajan and I got separated. That's how he ended up here, in Hyderabad."
The weight of Narayana's words hung in the air, each revelation more shocking than the last. Rajan, just a child, had been thrust into a deadly game of power and greed. Vikram Sarkar had murdered his parents, and now, with the documents in his possession, Rajan was the only thing standing in the way of Sarkar's complete control.
As I was lost in thought, trying to piece together our next move, my phone suddenly buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen—an unknown caller. With everything going on, I had a feeling I knew exactly who it was. I stood up, making my way toward the door.
Bheeshma, always vigilant, noticed my movement. "Krishna, where are you going?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.
I gave him a reassuring look. "Bhaiyya, I'll be back in a moment," I replied, trying to sound as casual as possible. Without waiting for a response, I stepped out of the room. As I passed by the girls, I saw the worry in their eyes, but I held up a hand to stop them from asking any questions. This was something I had to handle alone.
The cool night air hit me as I walked out onto the gallery of the hospital. The city was alive, lights twinkling in the distance, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside me. The weight of the situation bore down on me as I stopped and took a deep breath.
I answered the call, and immediately, an angry voice burst through the line. "Krishna Prasad, it's me, Vikram Sarkar. Listen carefully, child. Don't get in my way if you don't want trouble. Hand over the kid, or I swear, you're going to regret it. Your days are numbered, do you hear me?"
His words were filled with venom. I let out a slow sigh, allowing a small, cold smile to form on my lips. "I'm not going to say much, Sarkar, but you better listen closely," I began, my voice steady and laced with quiet menace. "I don't take kindly to threats, especially from scum like you. So here's the deal: I'm coming to kill you. Tomorrow, your time is up. Start counting your remaining hours, because your clock is ticking. Tick tock, tick tock."
There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line before I heard Sarkar's furious shout, his voice crackling with rage. And then, nothing. The call abruptly ended, and I imagined him hurling his phone in a fit of anger.
After the call with Vikram Sarkar ended, I knew I needed to act fast. My thoughts raced as I dialed Athreya's number. The phone rang a few times before he answered.
"Are you watching the news?" I asked as soon as he picked up.
"Yes," Athreya replied.
"Good. That means I don't need to explain everything from scratch. I need you to gather as much information as you can about Vikram Sarkar's illegal activities," I instructed firmly.
"Okay, I'll get on it. I should have something for you in about four hours," Athreya responded, sounding like he was already starting to gather his resources.
I frowned, feeling the urgency of the situation. "Athreya, we don't have that much time. I need the information within two hours."
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then Athreya hesitated, "Krishna, but—"
Before he could finish, I cut him off, my tone brooking no argument. "Athreya, take Vamsi and Bobby's help if you need to, but get me that information within two hours."
"I understand. I'll try my best," Athreya said, his voice determined despite the tight deadline.
"Thanks," I replied, hanging up before I could hear any more.
I stared out at the city lights. The city seemed so calm, indifferent to the chaos unfolding above it. Each light was a reminder of how interconnected everything was, each one a small beacon against the dark backdrop of night.
(A/N:If you want to support me, please use this UPI:-omgadekar29@oksbi "Om Gadekar")
(Word's Count:-3348)