Chapter : 26

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The Mehra Manor was bathed in soft, golden light, the chandeliers casting a warm glow across the elegant hall. The atmosphere was intimate and sophisticated, with close friends and family gathered to celebrate Ananya’s remarkable success. The air was filled with the gentle hum of conversations, laughter, and the occasional clink of glasses.

Ananya stood near the grand entrance, effortlessly drawing the attention of everyone around her. Dressed in an exquisite midnight-blue saree that shimmered under the lights, she looked radiant, poised, and in complete control. Her hair, elegantly pinned to one side, framed her face, accentuating her sharp features. Yet, it was her aura that made her stand out even more—a blend of grace, power, and an underlying intensity.

Rihaan, dressed in a sleek black suit, stood near her, his wide eyes constantly darting around the room, excited by the lively atmosphere. He was fascinated by the grown-up conversations but content just being near Ananya. Mr. and Mrs. Mehra were speaking with some close friends, while Raj and his wife, Priya, kept their children, Isha and Rishi, entertained. It was a perfect gathering—small, private, and filled with people who genuinely cared about each other.

As the party went on, Ananya was called over by Mr. Mehra. “Ananya, dear,” he said warmly, “come greet the Sharmas. They’ve just arrived.”

Her gaze flickered for a moment but remained unreadable as she nodded and walked gracefully towards the door where Mr. and Mrs. Sharma stood. They looked awkwardly out of place, clearly aware of the tension that lingered between them and Ananya, though it was mostly masked by smiles and polite conversation.

“Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Sharma,” Ananya greeted them, her voice smooth and formal. She didn’t falter for a second, her eyes briefly meeting Mr. Sharma’s with a glint that only he seemed to catch.

Mr. Sharma’s gaze lingered on her, his mind racing. He was trying to assess her demeanor, searching for any sign that she knew about the papers he had received. His fingers twitched at his side as if ready to defend himself. But Ananya, as usual, was an enigma. There was nothing in her expression that betrayed what she knew, if she knew anything at all.

Mrs. Sharma, oblivious to the tension simmering between her husband and Ananya, offered a polite smile. “You look beautiful, Ananya. It’s such a wonderful party.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Sharma,” Ananya replied with a nod. “I’m glad you could join us tonight.”

After a few more exchanges, Mr. Sharma, unable to take the uncertainty any longer, cleared his throat. “Ananya, could we speak in private for a moment? There’s something I need to discuss with you.”

Ananya’s eyes flicked to him, her expression still cool and controlled. She didn’t want to create a scene, so she nodded. “Of course, Mr. Sharma.”

They walked out to the balcony, away from the crowd, the cool night air brushing against their skin. The moment they stepped outside, the silence between them became heavy, almost suffocating. Mr. Sharma fidgeted uncomfortably, his mind a whirlwind of anxiety. He could feel his pulse quickening with every second that passed.

He glanced at Ananya, who stood calmly, gazing out at the moonlit sky. She was so still, so composed, it unnerved him. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to know if she was aware of what had been revealed to him.

“So… Ananya,” he started, his voice shaky. “How… how have you been? You seem… different.”

Ananya slowly turned to face him, her expression unreadable but her eyes sharp. She didn’t respond immediately, letting the tension build. Then, in a clear, almost too-calm tone, she said, “Uncle, why do you sound so anxious?”

Mr. Sharma’s heart nearly stopped. Uncle. She had never called him that before. He swallowed hard, feeling a cold sweat break out on his forehead. “What… what do you mean by that?” he stammered.

Ananya’s lips curled into a faint, almost dangerous smile. “Well, aren’t you my uncle? After all, you were my father’s brother, weren’t you?”

Mr. Sharma’s face drained of color. His breath came out in short, shallow bursts as his mind raced. She knows. He wasn’t sure how, but she knew. The knowledge of what he had done—the secret he had buried for so long—was now out in the open, hanging between them like a noose tightening around his neck.

“I don’t… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he tried to deny, his voice faltering as panic set in.

Ananya stepped closer, her eyes locking onto his with a terrifying intensity. “Money makes people do terrible things, doesn’t it? Sometimes, it even makes them kill.”

His breathing hitched, his chest tightening as if an invisible hand was squeezing the life out of him. She knew. His worst nightmare had come true, and there was no way out. His mind flashed back to that night—the night he had made sure his brother and sister-in-law wouldn’t live to see another day, all for the sake of the company.

“Ananya, I…” he choked out, but he couldn’t find the words. His throat felt like it was closing, his heartbeat thundering in his ears.

Ananya tilted her head slightly, watching him squirm under her gaze. “It must be hard,” she mused softly, her tone deceptively gentle, “to live with the weight of all that blood on your hands.”

Mr. Sharma stumbled back a step, his vision blurring with fear. It was as if her words were physically suffocating him, constricting his chest. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. He had to get out of there—away from her, away from the suffocating guilt that was crashing down on him.

Without another word, he turned and rushed back into the house, practically dragging Mrs. Sharma with him as he hurried to leave. Ananya didn’t follow him, didn’t try to stop him. Instead, she stood on the balcony, her eyes fixed on the moon, her expression finally softening into something sad, something mournful.

In the quiet of the night, she whispered, “Thank you, Mumma. Thank you, Papa.”

It was as if she could feel their presence, watching over her, congratulating her on her success. But beneath the pride and victory, there was a deep well of sadness that she carried with her—one that no amount of revenge or power could ever erase.

She stood there for a long moment, lost in her thoughts, before finally turning back toward the party, ready to rejoin her family. The mask of strength and control slipped back into place as she stepped inside, once again becoming the fierce and unstoppable woman everyone knew her to be.

But in her heart, she carried the weight of everything she had lost—and everything she had yet to reclaim.

Flashback

Ananya returned to her office, where Rihaan was waiting for her. He looked up from his toys, his eyes lighting up when he saw her.

"Anya! Did you win?" he asked eagerly, jumping to his feet.

Ananya smiled, walking over to him and wrapping him in a warm hug. "Yes, Rihaan. I won."

Rihaan grinned, hugging her back tightly. "I knew you would!"

Ananya held him for a moment longer, drawing strength from his innocent enthusiasm. But as she pulled away, her phone buzzed on her desk. She walked over and picked it up, her smile fading as she read the message.

"We need to talk. It’s about the Sharma family. Come to the park behind Kapoor Plaza at 5 PM. – Mr. Kapoor"

Ananya turned to Rihaan, who was watching her with a mix of curiosity and concern. She walked over and knelt in front of him, placing her hands on his shoulders.

"Rihaan, something important has come up at work," she said gently. "I need to take care of it, but I promise it won't take long."

Rihaan nodded, his expression serious. "Okay, Anya. I'll be good and wait here."

Ananya smiled and kissed his forehead. "Thank you, Rihaan. You're the best."

*****

It was nearing dusk when Ananya arrived at the park behind Kapoor Plaza. The sun was dipping low on the horizon, casting a warm, amber hue across the lush green grass. She spotted a man sitting on a bench under a large tree. As she approached, she recognized him from the few times she had seen him at past family gatherings—Mr. Kapoor.

He stood up when she neared, his face lined with age and something heavier, a burden he had carried for far too long. “Ananya,” he greeted her with a small, sad smile. “Thank you for coming.”

“What is this about?” she asked, her voice calm but firm. She wasn’t one to beat around the bush.

He gestured for her to sit, and though hesitant, she obliged. The air felt thicker than usual, a sense of gravity filling the space between them.

“I’ve kept quiet for a long time,” Mr. Kapoor began, clasping his hands together. “But I can’t anymore. There are things you need to know, things that were hidden from you—about the Sharma family and your rightful place in it.”

Ananya’s brow furrowed, but she kept her composure. “My rightful place?”

He nodded gravely. “You were never meant to be a part of the Sharma family the way you think. Mr. and Mrs. Sharma... they are not your real parents.”

The words hit her like a tidal wave, but her face remained still, trained to reveal nothing. Inside, her heart raced, and her mind whirled in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Mr. Kapoor sighed, clearly reluctant to continue but knowing he had to. “Your real parents were Mr. Sharma’s older brother and his wife. They were… killed in what was made to look like an accident. You were very young, and the Sharmas adopted you, taking you in under the guise of caring for you. But it wasn’t just out of kindness.”

Ananya stared at him, her silence urging him to continue.

“They wanted control over everything—your inheritance, your family’s company, everything that rightfully belonged to you. For years, they’ve kept you in the dark, raising you as their daughter while slowly siphoning off what was yours.”

“And why are you telling me this now?” Ananya’s voice was ice-cold, though beneath her calm exterior, her thoughts were a storm. She felt her world shift, the pieces of her past rearranging in ways that suddenly made sense—her cold relationship with Mr. Sharma, the way they always treated her like an outsider in her own home.

Mr. Kapoor looked at her with regret. “Because you’re now the rightful owner of everything, Ananya. Three months after your marriage, the legal documents were signed, and Sharma Industries officially belongs to you.”

Ananya blinked, her breath catching for just a moment. “Why wasn’t I told this before?” she asked, her voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of restrained fury. “Why didn't you tell me when we first met?”

“I couldn’t,” he replied, his eyes dropping to the ground, shame evident in his tone. “The transfer of ownership only became effective three months after your marriage. It was part of your parents' will, a safeguard they placed so that you wouldn't inherit too young or while you were vulnerable. But the Sharmas never wanted you to find out. They’ve been keeping me on the sidelines for years, silencing me. It wasn’t until the documents were officially processed that I was finally able to speak up.”

The weight of his words pressed heavily on her chest. Ananya sat back on the bench, her eyes narrowing as she stared ahead, the pieces of her life falling into place. Her parents had protected her, even after their deaths. And yet, she had been living under the roof of their murderers all these years.

Mr. Kapoor watched her carefully. “You have every right to take control now, Ananya. Legally, Sharma Industries belongs to you. But the Sharmas—they’ll do everything they can to stop you. They’ve built their entire empire off the lie that you were their daughter, and now that it’s time for the truth to come out… they’re desperate.”

Ananya’s lips curled into a smile, but it wasn’t one of warmth or joy. It was a cold, calculating smile—a smile that spoke of retribution and justice long overdue. “Let them try,” she said softly, her voice laced with steel. “They’ve taken enough from me. It’s time I take everything back.”

Mr. Kapoor nodded, his relief visible now that the truth was finally out. “I’ll help you in any way I can, Ananya. Whatever you need.”

She stood up, her resolve solidifying. “I don’t need help, Mr. Kapoor. I have everything I need.”

And with that, she turned and walked away, her mind already formulating the next steps. Mr. and Mrs. Sharma thought they could keep her in the dark, that they could continue to control her destiny. But they were wrong.

Very wrong.

The Sharmas would fall. Dhiraj Khurana would fall. And Ananya Sharma would rise, taking back everything that was rightfully hers. But for now, she would return to Rihaan, her source of innocence and love in a world filled with treachery.

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