Second Chance: A Dark Tale of Urban India-Chapter 115: Reactions(IB notices)

**Intelligence Bureau Headquarters, New Delhi. Same Night , 9:20 PM**

The Special Director’s office on the fourth floor was dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn against the city lights. A large mahogany desk dominated the room, covered with neatly stacked files, two secure laptops, and a blinking red phone that rarely rang.

Joint Director Vikram Sharma sat behind the desk, reading glasses perched on his nose, carefully reviewing a thick dossier. Across from him, a senior analyst from the Survelliance Division sat quietly, waiting for comments.

A sharp knock echoed on the heavy wooden door.

"Enter," Sharma said without looking up, his voice calm but authoritative.

The door opened. A junior TID (Technical Intelligence Division) officer in a crisp shirt and tie stepped inside, holding a sealed folder and a tablet. He stood at attention a few steps from the desk.

"Jai Hind, sir. Permission to report. We’ve received major intel from NCB."

Sharma finally looked up, removing his glasses. He gestured with two fingers. "Jai Hind. Speak."

The officer placed the folder on the desk and opened the tablet, turning it towards the director.

"Sir, we just received confirmed video evidence and intel about 250 kg of cocaine stored in a three-storey apartment in Aya Nagar. The mail also attaches leads to Chota Sheth’s gang. The detail claims more than 1000 kg of drugs already being stored there. But there’s something unusual..."

Sharma leaned forward slightly, eyes sharpening.

"Unusual how?"

"The details of the van shown in the video exactly match the one caught in the recent burning incident in Vasant Kunj. The department has asked for assistance to verify the claims before taking action."

Sharma mused, "Who is the source? One of the old ones or any new ghost?"

The officer replied, "Sir, it is the scion of the Singhanias. Rohit Singhania. It was sent from his personal mail, citing he got the details from his own trusted sources. He wanted to alert the authorities best suited for this."

Another voice came, this time from the female senior analyst who had been discussing with the director earlier. "Wait a minute, Kabir. You mean the Singhanias, the one whom our agent 91 is trailing?"

Kabir got a little nervous, as this analyst was better known for her temper. "Yes, ma’am. But this time it is her son, or the individual whom they adopted."

Sharma turned into a smile. "Tell them that IB has received similar intel and was about to report. They may conduct the raid in earliest."

Kabir hesitated. "But sir..."

Sharma dismissed him casually. "Just do as I say."

The officer saluted and left the room.

The female senior analyst asked, puzzled, "Sir, why did you allow the raid without investigation?"

Sharma leaned back in his chair, addressing her by her full name and designation as if testing her judgement. "First you tell me, Senior Central Intelligence Officer Meher Kashyap, since how many years have we put Mrs. Singhania under surveillance, how many agents we have deployed and changed, and how much info we have got about that doctor since that incident?"

Meher pursed her lips, lowering her head. "Sir, it’s 7 years, 8 months. 4 agents so far."

Sharma added, leaning forward and crossing his fingers. "Good you remember, but it’s not enough. The days are passing and we are still in the same place. Zero improvement."

He stood up, walked near the window, and lit a cigarette while looking outside. "Returning to your question, since we can’t get anything directly from her, we will use her son. Verification doesn’t matter here. True or false, he is destined to fall into our hands."

He turned around, taking another drag, and added, "Give me all details about this Rohit Singhania by tomorrow morning. Dismissed."

Meher stood up, saluted, and left the room.

Sharma returned to his chair, finishing his cigarette. He looked at the files and the tablet, studying them carefully.

After a long, thoughtful pause, only two words left his mouth.

"Very interesting."

**Mittal house, Living room**

"Yes, Dad. Don’t worry, I’ll handle it."

Jayesh sat on the sofa, a glass of whisky in one hand and a cigarette burning between his fingers. His eyes were fixed on the TV, where the news showed Secretary Pathak and the former MLA announcing the delay of the demolition drive. Despite his casual tone, deep worry lines creased his forehead.

On the phone, Mr. Mittal’s voice was furious. "What will you handle? Do you know how agitated the client is? You said you had the Singhanias in your palm. Then how the hell did they stop the demolition? It was supposed to be expedited!"

Jayesh took a long drag. "But Dad, isn’t this good for us? The delay will lower their service value even more."

His father’s voice turned sharper. "Are you kidding me? We were the ones who pushed the demolition plan behind the scenes. Do you think we won’t be held accountable?"

Jayesh pinched the bridge of his nose. "Relax, Dad. It’s only an announcement. Give me some time. I’ll get to the bottom of it."

Mr. Mittal’s tone became threatening. "Then do it fast. Because if we lose the client’s trust, I’ll cut off your allowances and send you back to boarding hostel, and make sure you rot in some third-rate college."

The call ended abruptly.

Jayesh sighed in relief, dropped the ash into the tray, and was about to take a sip when his phone rang again — an unknown number.

He picked up. "Hello? Who’s this?"

A rough, slang-filled voice answered. "Little mutt, you forgot your daddy? This is Chota Sheth — left hand of Ahmad Bhai."

Jayesh straigtened, veins popping with rage at the insult. His jaw tightened as he managed to reply, "Yes, Chota Sheth... how may I help you?"

"Keep your help up your stupid ass. We want our fucking gold. The boys you recommended got caught by the police at the MLA’s resort. Check the news if you haven’t seen it."

Jayesh quickly switched channels. The screen showed footage of the burning resort, Harsha and his gang, and the seized van with burnt drug residue near the poolside.

He stood up, muttering in disbelief, "How is this possible...? I spoke to them just a few hours ago. Everything was fine."

"You saying something?" Chota Sheth’s voice turned colder. "Listen, kiddo. Those boys were carrying thirty crore worth of gold. It’s not reported anywhere. You understand what that means? Ahmad Bhai is furious. If he speaks, not even your surname will save you."

Jayesh tried to keep his voice steady. " I don’t know anything about any gold. Why should I pay for something I don’t have?"

"Stop the drama, you little shit. At least the lad was honest — he named you as the last contact. Pay up quietly for the gold you stole. We’re not dumb. We know who has it. Or do you think that Russian cutie of yours can protect you from our boys?"

Jayesh’s jaw dropped in utter shock and humiliation. He hadn’t taken the gold, yet they were pinning it on him anyway. Arguing would be useless.

He exhaled heavily, the whiskey in glass still in hands shaking from frustration, "I understand. I’ll arrange the money in cash. Give me two days."

The tone on the other end immediately relaxed. "Smart kid. I’ll speak to Bhai and ask him to pardon you this time. Don’t repeat this mistake."

The call ended.

Jayesh stared at the phone for a second, then smashed the whisky glass against the wall in rage. "Fuck! Why didn’t he call me...? Motherfucking bastard!"

Losing more than two-thirds of his savings in one go was painful enough. The humiliation made it unbearable.

Just then, a familiar sarcastic female voice cut through the room. "What happened, son? Want Mommy’s helping hand?"

Akansha stood at the entrance in a sheer nightgown, leaning casually with a mocking smile and a jerking hand gesture. Seeing her most hated enemy breaking down was clearly the highlight of her day.

Jayesh shot her a venomous look. "You filthy slut, don’t you dare call me ’son’ with that dirty mouth."

He tried to walk past her, but Akansha continued with biting sarcasm. "Oh? Now I’m a slut? What about you? You get hard watching from the sidelines but don’t have the guts to fuck me. Or is your special kink just watching your father’s wife getting shared with his friends?"

Jayesh’s steps faltered.

Akansha didn’t stop. "Or maybe your pathetic little thing doesn’t even get hard enough to give a woman what she needs. Jerk.."

Jayesh suddenly turned, grabbed Akansha by the throat, and slammed her against the wall. He squeezed her breast hard .

"You want to see how hard I can get? huh!" Jayesh growled, choking her harder. "If not for Dad’s obsession with your premium pussy, I would’ve already bent you over and fucked you raw. But don’t worry... once I have real power, I’m going to enjoy every inch of this body. Forget this property, your place will be among those sluts of GB Road. Count your days. Got it?"

Akansha gasped for air, her face turning red.

Jayesh finally released her, letting her slump to the floor. " One day, I’ll settle all of you."

With pure rage, he stormed out.

Akansha coughed violently, trying to catch her breath. Her eyes then fell on Jayesh’s phone lying on the table. Remembering Rohit’s request, she picked it up, a dangerous smile forming on her lips.

"We’ll see who settles whom... little Mittal."

Hyatt Hotel — Aisha’s Room, Same Night

Aisha stood in front of the mirror in a soft white bathrobe, her hair still damp from the shower. She was on a video call with her mother.

"Yes, Mom, I’m fine. Don’t worry. I’ll be back tomorrow morning," she said, trying to sound casual while polishing her nails.

Kalyani’s worried face filled the screen. "Where is Rohit right now? He’s not sleeping with you, is he?"

Aisha rolled her eyes dramatically. "What? No! Yuck. He booked his own room. He’s probably gone to eat something. That stupid guy dragged me around all day for nothing."

Her mother exhaled in relief. "Alright, take care. And report to me immediately if you notice anything strange."

Aisha waved lazily and ended the call. The moment the screen went black, her expression changed. She sighed heavily and threw herself onto the bed, hugging a pillow. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

"What a pain... Why does she always worry more about family politics than her own daughter? I hate this," she muttered bitterly.

*Ding!-dong!*

The doorbell rang. Aisha groaned in irritation. "Who is it?"

"Room service, ma’am. Complimentary drinks," came a voice from outside.

Her mood instantly brightened. "Oh, nice!" She jumped up and opened the door with a small smile — only to find Rohit standing there, holding several chilled beer cans, a smirk playing on his lips.

Before she could slam the door shut, Rohit pushed it open and walked in like he owned the room. He placed the cans on the table and casually sat on the edge of the bed.

Aisha fumed. "Hey! This is my room!"

Rohit shrugged, cracking open a can and taking a slow sip. "So what? I paid for it."

She folded her arms tightly across her chest. "What do you want?"

Rohit looked at her calmly. "You know the deal. The live show. You and me... for Victor. We settle him tonight."

Aisha’s eyes widened in shock. Her body tensed instantly, and she staggered back a step. Her hands instinctively moved to guard her chest. Her hiccup started.

"Wait... hic... you said it wouldn’t be needed! You seriously mean it?" Her voice shook. "Didn’t I already send him the message?"

Rohit started unbuttoning his shirt without hurry. "I never said we wouldn’t do it. You just imagined that part."

Aisha felt a chill run down her spine. Her jaw still ached faintly from their last encounter. She backed away, voice trembling. "I... I don’t want to do it..."

Rohit shrugged casually. "Fine by me. I won’t force you." He tossed a key card onto the bed. "Take that. It’s my room. You can leave if you want, but dont forget the consequences, incase tommorow something leaks out."

Aisha stood frozen, staring at the key card. Her mind was a mess. She hated him — hated how he treated her like a tool. But she had seen what he was capable of. He had burned down an MLA’s resort to save one girl. Yet with her, he was cold and merciless. Two face bastard.

Atleast Rohit is manageable as family but Victor... Ending this blackmail once and for all would be worth it. No more Victor. No more fear. But his... it was too big. Would it even be worth the pain?

She swallowed hard and asked one last time, voice small, "This... this will be the last time?"

Rohit took another sip of beer, completely relaxed. "No promises. But don’t expect things to change.."

Aisha’s hands clenched at her sides. After a long, painful silence, she walked to the door... and closed it instead of leaving.

Rohit smirked, opening another can.