Episode 47 – "The Enemy Within"
1703 Words
(Veer’s POV)
I was in the middle of reviewing documents in my office, the ticking of the wall clock syncing with the quiet buzz of the air conditioning. My phone buzzed on the desk.
Ruhani.
I answered it without hesitation.
“Veer bhai, you need to come home. Now.”
“I’m in the middle of work. What’s going on?” I asked, keeping my tone sharp.
“It’s about her. Neha.”
That single name shifted something inside me. The air felt heavier.
“I’ll be there.”
I canceled all remaining meetings, ignoring the questioning glances from my secretary. My thoughts were tangled as I drove back home, fast and focused.
The moment I walked in, Ruhani was waiting near the stairs. Her eyes gleamed with something between satisfaction and fury.
“Come with me,” she said, leading me to my room.
Once inside, she closed the door and pulled a black envelope from her coat.
“She’s not who she claims to be,” Ruhani said darkly. “This—this girl is not innocent.”
She handed me a photo. My fingers gripped it, and my heart stopped for a beat.
Him.
Aarav.
She was standing beside him. The one name I never wanted to hear again. The threat we’ve been guarding ourselves against. And here she was… smiling, like she belonged next to him.
I didn’t speak. I didn’t have to.
“She’s the same girl who saved Denver bhai,” Ruhani whispered. “It was never an accident. It was planned. He planted her, Veer bhai… to get close to our family. To break us from within.”
I clenched my jaw, vision blurring with rage.
“She’s a weapon,” Ruhani continued. “Used through Sanchit, through Denver Bhai. And now through you.”
I couldn’t breathe. The betrayal coiled around my chest like a noose. Everything she said, everything she did—it all made sense now.
“She fooled us.”
“She fooled me.”
My voice cracked the silence like a whip.
I looked at Ruhani. “Bring her to me. Now.”
Without hesitation, she nodded and stormed out.
I stood by the window, fists curled so tightly I could feel my nails cutting into my skin. That girl. That face I’d almost come to trust… to believe in.
She was a lie.
And tonight, she would pay.
---
At Hall
I heard her scream before I even saw her.
Ruhani dragged her by the hair across the marble floor like a discarded doll. Neha’s legs scraped behind her, trembling and weak. Her face was pale, bruised, exhausted.
She looked nothing like the girl who once stood tall and proud at that dance academy.
Ruhani shoved her to the ground in front of me. Her knees hit the floor with a dull thud. She winced but didn’t speak immediately—only raised her eyes to mine with confusion and fear.
I stepped closer. Her lips parted. “V-Veer... what did I do?” Her voice cracked like thin glass.
I didn’t answer.
She looked at Ruhani, then back at me. “Please… what did I do wrong? Tell me.”
“Silence.” My voice was low and hard.
Her shoulders flinched.
“I haven’t done anything,” she said again, softer. “Why are you punishing me? Why—”
I raised my hand and backhanded her. The sound echoed across the silent hall. Her cheek instantly bloomed red. She gasped, falling back slightly, one hand clutching her face.
“I told you not to speak,” I growled.
Tears welled up in her eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—please—”
Ruhani stood beside me, her arms folded, watching coldly.
I stepped forward, yanked Neha up by her arm. She whimpered, but I didn’t let go. She was nothing now—no better than the dirt under my shoes.
“You want to play games with us?” I hissed close to her ear. “You want to lie and pretend? You want to sneak into my family?”
She shook her head rapidly, crying. “I swear I didn’t—please believe me…”
I didn’t listen.
I dragged her toward the back of the mansion, through the corridors that led to the dungeon. Her cries echoed through the stone walls.
“No, please—Veer! I didn’t do anything! Please tell me what I did!”
Her pleas meant nothing now.
I opened the iron door and threw her inside the dark, cold chamber. The same place where blood had soaked into the walls from past betrayals.
She stumbled and fell to the floor, gasping.
I pulled off my belt slowly.
She froze.
I saw it in her eyes—the pure horror, the kind that burns deeper than skin.
“Please…” she begged, her voice broken. “Please don’t—”
I didn’t stop.
The belt landed on her back once, twice—each time with a sickening crack. She screamed, curled in a ball, shaking, sobbing. Her skin split open in places, blood soaking through her kurti.
“Please forgive me—please—I don’t even know what I did—”
She cried for mercy.
But I didn’t offer it.
When her voice faded to nothing but a whisper, and her body barely moved, I grabbed her again. Her bloodied palms tried to push me away weakly, but I didn’t care.
I dragged her outside the dungeon toward the stable. Horses neighed softly nearby, their shadows flickering against the walls. I opened the wooden gate to the shelter, walked her inside, and shoved her into the cold hay.
“This is where you belong,” I muttered.
Her eyes fluttered, too weak to even cry now.
I closed the gate and walked away, my heart an icy cage.
She won’t die.
Not yet.
That would be too easy.
She’ll suffer first—just like she made me suffer.
Just like she made us all bleed from within.
-----
(Ruhani’s POV)
I watched him closely—the moment he saw the picture.
Veer bhai’s expression didn’t shift right away. It rarely does. But I knew him too well. The twitch in his jaw, the stillness of his hands, the sudden chill in the room—those were enough.
He saw him.
He recognized the man beside her in that photograph. The man who tried to destroy our family once. The man none of us ever forgot.
And Neha… she was with him. Comfortably. Familiar.
I leaned in, my voice cold but steady.
“She’s been planted here. Like a seed that’s finally grown into rot. This wasn’t fate, bhai. It was strategy.”
He said nothing, but the rage started simmering in his eyes. I pushed further.
“She came into Sanchit’s life. She ‘saved’ Denver bhai. She got close to you. All too perfectly timed. This isn’t coincidence. This is infiltration.”
He clenched the photo, crumpling it between his fingers.
“I had her followed,” I added calmly. “Just in case. And now, we know the truth. She’s the enemy—his girl—sent here to hollow us out from the inside.”
His eyes turned to fire.
“Bring her,” he said through gritted teeth.
And in that moment, I knew he would no longer hesitate.
---
The moment I stormed out of his room, I made my way straight to the kitchen. She was there—pathetically scrubbing the dishes with trembling fingers, her hair sticking to her sweaty face, her body too weak to stand fully straight. She looked like a ghost of the girl who once walked around here with quiet dignity.
But today, I would make her fall.
I grabbed her hair without warning. She yelped and dropped the plate, which shattered across the tiles. I didn’t care.
“You want to lie to us?” I spat, dragging her out like the traitor she was. “You want to pretend you’re one of us?”
She cried and tried to grab at my hand. “Ruhani—please—what did I do?”
“You disgust me,” I growled, tightening my grip and yanking her down the hallway.
She struggled, weak and broken, but I didn’t let go. Her cries echoed across the marble as I pulled her into the hall where Veer bhai waited like a silent storm.
I threw her to the ground in front of him.
“Here she is,” I said, breathing hard. “Your pet.”
She looked up at him, still so clueless. Still holding onto hope that someone—anyone—might save her. Pathetic.
“V-Veer… what did I do? Please…”
She didn’t even see it coming.
Veer bhai’s slap landed hard and clean across her face. I smiled as her head snapped sideways and she gasped, stunned.
Good.
She deserved every bit of this.
When he dragged her toward the dungeon, I followed them quietly down the dark hallway. Her cries never stopped. Her voice, thin and choked, pleading again and again: “Please tell me what I did. I didn’t do anything. I’m not lying.”
Lies.
All of it.
When he opened the dungeon door and pushed her in, I didn’t blink. I stood near the shadows as he raised his belt, her body curling away.
And then the screams began.
Louder with each crack of leather against her back.
She cried. Begged. Fell apart.
I felt no guilt.
This wasn’t cruelty.
This was justice.
She betrayed us. Played with our emotions. Manipulated the people I love—Sanchit.
She needed to be broken. So she could never do it again.
Veer bhai dragged her out, bleeding and near-unconscious, and threw her into the horse shelter like the animal she was. I stood back as he locked the cage and walked away in silence.
His anger still burned—but he didn’t say a word.
She will not die.
Not yet.
She will live. She will suffer. She will learn.
And then she’ll understand what happens to those who dare cross us.
- Writer
