Chapter 120: chapter 120

NISHAI pace the silent room, feeling depressed and hopeless. My eyes dart to the clock for the trillionth time. It’s been exactly 73 hours since I was brought to this high-security house on the outskirts of the capital city. I’m confined to a single room with an en suite bathroom. Food is delivered three times a day, and I even got a change of clothes yesterday.I can’t understand why I’m being treated like this, even after I confessed to everything. Aren’t criminals supposed to be sent to a high-security prison, deprived of luxuries like a bed and a private bathroom? Why am I in this house instead of a cell? This house belongs to my boss. I’m sure of it because he was the one who brought me here, not the police. Hell, he didn’t even let the police near me. Though he informed everyone that I was under arrest, the police never approached me.It was Vikram who escorted me out of the jewelry exhibition, directing me into his car—the one he uses personally—and driving me here himself.The truth is, I didn’t poison Sruthi. I didn’t try to kill her. I have no idea how that bottle ended up in my bag, nor did I know there was poison in the grape juice. But all the evidence points to me. And then there’s the photo of Sruthi found in my house and that darknet ID. What was the name Vikram mentioned again? Shrimp? Octopus? Whatever it was, it isn’t mine.Someone is framing me for crimes I didn’t commit. I know I’m innocent, and my conscience is clear, but I can’t make others believe me—not without solid proof.At first, I was furious about the accusations leveled against me. But as the hours tick by, I’m beginning to realize how utterly helpless I am. I can’t do anything to prove my innocence.And the saddest part? There’s no family waiting for me, no one to fight for me and say, “You’re innocent.” No one believes me—just the so-called evidence. Maybe if I had someone who cared, they would’ve tried their hardest to prove my innocence. But I don’t.The only people I know are my boss Vikram, his sister Sruthi, and her husband Madhav. I thought of them as my friends. To have someone you trust accuse you of something like this—it’s heart-wrenching. I always knew my boss was a jerk, but I didn’t realize how far he’d go until the day he accused me of poisoning his sister.The worst thing that could happen to me has already happened. I’m done pleading my case or trying to prove my innocence. The person framing me knew exactly what they were doing. They planted everything too perfectly, leaving no room for doubt.Refusing to admit to the crimes only makes me look worse, but I can’t bring myself to confess to something I didn’t do. Yet, when Vikram told me about the so-called evidence found in my house, I realized how deeply trapped I am. There’s no way I can prove my innocence, not with evidence that damning.Every question Vikram asked—his constant accusations—only fueled my anger and frustration. It wasn’t just the words he said; it was the person saying them.I’ve worked for him for five years. How could he trust fabricated evidence over me? Did he ever truly believe in me at all?As these thoughts consumed me, I felt hopeless and defeated. I couldn’t take his accusations anymore. In a moment of utter frustration, I yelled that I was guilty of all the crimes.It was a stupid decision—one born out of desperation. At least this way, I don’t have to keep defending myself to deaf ears. How am I supposed to prove my innocence when no one except me believes it?There’s no way I can escape this house. Vikram won’t let me. And even if I did, there’s no one who would take me in or give me refuge. I don’t have anyone in this world to call family.So escaping would only make things worse. Instead, I’ve decided to play the role they’ve cast me in. If they think I harmed Sruthi, so be it. Maybe, at least in prison, I won’t have to deal with things like deadlines or overtime.I feel foolish for ever thinking I had someone I could count on. Every time I’ve been in trouble, the first person I thought to call was my boss. He was always the one to help me get through things in this city. I don’t even have a boyfriend. My job doesn’t allow for that. My parents are dead, and I’m an only child.For five years, Vikram was my anchor—the one person I trusted. Now, he’s the same person tearing me apart with accusations.I’ve reached a dead end. Resistance will only make things worse. I’m tired of this monotonous, lonely life. The evidence against me is overwhelming, and no matter how much I plead, the punishment is inevitable.But I can only hope that someday, Vikram realizes his mistake and regrets everything he’s done to me.❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥I lie on the bed, staring into the darkness of the room. If I’m not the culprit, then who is? My mind spins, but I can’t think of anyone who fits that role. Until Vikram accused me, I hadn’t even known Sruthi’s life was being threatened. But now, it all makes sense. For months, Vikram has been tense and agitated about something. At first, I thought it was because Sruthi was getting married and he was worried for her future. But now I see the truth.My thoughts circle around my Vikram. Even though he’s a couple of years older than me, Vikram always addresses me as “Miss.” He overworks me, gives insane deadlines, and always treats me coldly. Yet he never once has disrespected me or  underestimated my capabilities. I still remember our first meeting where I rendered him speechless for a whole ten seconds. He was always cold towards me yet whenever I had problems adjusting to this new city, he somehow knew about my discomfort and helped me to adapt my life here.I want to hate Vikram for what he’s put me through—his distrust, his accusations—but I can’t bring myself to do it completely. Some stubborn part of me still believes he knows what he’s doing. That he would never punish someone innocent. That I—CLICK.I sit bolt upright as the lock to my door clicks open. My heart hammers in my chest as I glance at the clock—it’s just past midnight. Who could be coming into the house at this hour? A chill grips me. What if it’s the real culprit? What if they’ve come to kill me and make it look like suicide, so no one ever learns the truth?The door creaks open, and I grab the vase from my bedside table. My hands tremble as I position myself to strike. I aim for the door, holding my breath, waiting. A faint vibration cuts through the silence. Their phone? The sound puts me into action. Quietly, I slide off the bed and tiptoe toward the door. I hear the faint rustle of the assassin pocketing their phone.Be ready!The second the door opens, I have to hit them. No hesitation. Don’t think about the what would happen to the person. You’re already a suspect—damn the consequences.I lift the vase high, my muscles coiled with tension.The door creaks open further, and a shadowy figure steps inside.Now! Strike now!I bring the vase down with all my strength, but he’s faster than I anticipated. His hand shoots out, catching my wrist in an iron grip. In one smooth motion, he spins me around and locks me against his chest. My breath catches in my throat as I prepare to scream, but his deep voice stops me cold.“Miss Nisha,” he says, his tone as calm and commanding as ever. “It’s me. Your boss.”Just like that, the tension drains from my body. My jerk of a boss is better than an assassin. Vikram lets me go, and I stumble a step away from him, still gripping the vase like it’s a lifeline. He flicks on the light, and the sudden brightness forces me to squint.When my eyes adjust, I see him watching me closely, his expression unreadable. I glare at him and cross my arms over my chest. “Are you finally here to take me to jail?”Vikram’s lips curl into a smirk—the same cocky smirk the media adores but I absolutely despise.“No,” he replies simply.I wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. He just keeps staring at me, like I’m some kind of puzzle he’s trying to solve.“Then why are you here?” I demand, the frustration bubbling up in my chest. “It’s maddening to stay locked in this room. Just take me to prison already.”“I’m not here to take you to prison,” he repeats.“Then why the hell are you here? To taunt me—” My words die in my throat as Vikram suddenly kneels in front of me.I gasp, shocked. “What in the name of God are you doing?” I blink rapidly, half-convinced this is some bizarre hallucination. But it’s not.Vikram—one of the most powerful men in this country, a figure worshipped by the public as a protector—kneels before me. And yet, he doesn’t look small or weak. Somehow, the gesture makes him seem even mightier.“I keep my promises, Miss Nisha,” he says, his voice steady and sincere. “And I’m sure you remember what I promised.”His words hit me like a  train, pulling me back to that day. My own bitter words rush to the forefront of my mind:“...But mark my words, boss—if I’m not the real culprit, I hope you’re prepared to get on your knees and apologize.”“I’m sorry for not trusting you, Nisha,” Vikram continues, his gaze unwavering. “I was wrong to accuse you without having all the facts. I am sorry for putting you into all this trouble.”I stand frozen, his words ricocheting in my mind. This is Vikram—distant, authoritative, unyielding Vikram. Seeing him like this feels surreal.Part of me wants to lash out, to remind him of how deeply he hurt me. How he destroyed my trust and threw me into this nightmare. But another part of me, the part that still clings to a shred of faith in him, wants to believe this apology is real.“Stand up,” I say finally, unable to bear the sight of him kneeling any longer. He’s still my boss. Still one of the most powerful men in the country. And I can’t see him like this.He shakes his head. “Only if you accept my apology.”“Boss, you have no idea how much you’ve hurt me,” I say, my voice shaking. “Do you know what it felt like when you—of all people—accused me? I begged and pleaded, but you didn’t listen. You were so sure of my guilt.”Vikram’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t look away. “You’re not wrong. I did let my emotions cloud my judgment. For a moment, I believed it was you. But I soon realized how absurd that was. The evidence was too easy to find—planted, almost deliberately, to frame you. If I’d truly believed you were guilty, you would’ve seen a different side of me entirely. I would have showed you something worse than hell for betraying me. But, I knew you weren't guilty, that is why you are here in my safe house and not in the prison. Yet, that doesn’t excuse what I did. I should’ve trusted you without a doubt.”His voice softens, his eyes heavy with regret. “You’re someone I handpicked for this job. I should’ve known you would never harm anyone.”I swallow hard, his words hitting me like a storm. His regret is palpable, etched into his features.“Alright,” I whisper, “it’ll take me some time to accept your apology. But for now… please stand up.”He smiles faintly and rises to his feet. For a moment, we just stare at each other, the air between us heavy with unspoken words.“How did you find out I was innocent when I confessed I was guilty of the crimes?” I finally ask.“The fact that there were no mind control drugs in your body, for one. And remember the first time I came into this room to interrogate you? You had just finished your breakfast, and it had been injected with truth serum. Under its effects, you kept insisting you were innocent. That only made me more determined to prove your innocence,” he replies. “I needed one piece of solid evidence, which is why I searched your house. But all I found were more pieces of evidence pointing towards your guilt. The more I uncovered, the more convinced I became that you were being framed by the real culprit.”“Then why did you grill me with those questions in the evening?”“To understand what happened that day in detail and confirm my theory about how the poison bottle ended up in your bag. I didn’t realize my questions were so intense that they made you confess to a crime you didn’t commit. I’m sorry for putting you through that.”“How did the bottle end up in my bag?”“It was put there by the real culprit.”“Do you know who the real culprit is?” I ask, my mind turning over the details of that day. When did I leave my bag unattended? I remember when I entered the expo, I had to hand over my bag for inspection; it was standard protocol. And then, when I stepped away to grab the juice—those are the only two times I left my bag alone. Could it be the person I’m thinking of?“I do,” Vikram answers with quiet certainty. “I had my suspicions for a while, and I just confirmed them. That’s why I’m here—to apologize and explain. For now, you must stay hidden. Everyone thinks you’re locked in a prison. That’ll force the real culprit to make their next move.”I hesitate, then nod. “I’ll stay, but only if you stop confining me to this room. I won’t leave the house, but I need more space.”Vikram frowns but eventually nods. “Fine. But be careful, Miss. Nisha. ”“Don’t worry, boss,” I assure him. “I won’t make any mistakes.”His lips curve into a faint smile. “Of course, you won’t. That’s why I you work for me.” His gaze darkens briefly, and his next words surprise me. “And Miss. Nisha, you have every right to resign this job if you want. I won't force you to stay if you still think that you can't forgive me. Take three weeks time and think carefully . I am not going to assign you any work these three weeks. If you think that you have no hard feelings against me, then return back as my secratary or else you can quit the job and I will compensate you heavily.”❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥