Maya reached her home and bent down to open the gate. Her
hands trembled as the lock resisted.
Karikalan:"What
happens? Why do you look so confused?"
Maya's voice was uneasy.
Maya:"I didn't lock
my gate when I left for the restaurant… but now it's locked. It doesn't make
sense at all."
Karikalan's eyes narrowed, suspicion rising.
Karikalan:"Call
your parents. I think they took the gate key."
Maya shook her head quickly, her words spilling out.
Maya:"But
my parents aren't here. They left an hour ago for a function in their native
place."
Karikalan's face hardened, his voice sharp with anger.
Karikalan:"Why
didn't you tell me this earlier? I thought I could convince your parents about
this issue."
The night grew heavier as Maya struggled with the locked
gate. Her apology was quiet, almost pleading.
Maya:"I'm sorry… I
didn't get your words clearly earlier. Besides, I wouldn't have gone to the
restaurant if my parents were at home."
Karikalan's voice was sharp, cutting through her
explanation.
Karikalan:"I'm not
here to hear about your silly fault of mistake. I came here just to bring you
to your place."
They began searching around the entrance, the silence
broken only by the rustle of boxes and the scrape of shoes. Suddenly, Maya's
voice rang out, startled:
Maya:"Bro… I found
a piece of paper in this shoe box."
Karikalan strode over, his eyes narrowing.
Karikalan:"Open
it."
Maya unfolded the thin sheet, her hands trembling. Her eyes
widened, shock freezing her expression.
Karikalan:"What
happens?"
Maya's voice cracked as she read aloud:
Maya:"In this
paper… they've written something. 'We are holding the responsibility of taking
your gate key. If you want your key, come to the below mentioned place.'"
Karikalan's voice was sharp, his instincts burning:
"This is not good! Something's wrong."
Maya's eyes widened, her voice trembling:
"What? Are they trying to trap us? But why?"
Karikalan shook his head, frustration in his tone:
"I don't know either about the issue. But if it's true,
they will go to any depth to achieve their goal."
Maya frowned, confused:
"I don't understand…"
Karikalan gave a faint, almost bitter smile:
"That's good. Keep it that way. You'll understand once
we reach the place."
Maya thought to herself, her heart heavy:
"How long are things going to drag like this ah…"
Meanwhile, at Pooja's Home
Earlier that evening, Pooja had been working on her film
set when her phone buzzed with a call from an unknown number. She ignored it at
first, dismissing it as a nuisance. But when she returned home, her brother
entered the house — his jaw still bruised from Karikalan's punch.
As he stepped inside, his phone rang again. He pulled it
out, and a chilling voice spoke:
"I knew you can't speak… but I will deal with your
sister. Now give your phone to her."
He froze, shocked. His mind raced:
"How does he know everything? Does he know about that
incident? But how? It's all because of that video… yet I couldn't find anything
on social media. Or maybe… was I followed by a spy?"
The voice repeated, firmer this time:
"Please! Give your phone to your sister."
Reluctantly, he handed the phone to Pooja. She looked at
him, concerned:
"Hey! What happened to your jaw?"
He stayed silent, unable to answer. She frowned, taking the
phone:
"Who is this? And why are you calling my brother?"
Her brother avoided her gaze, his silence heavier than
words.
The voice on the phone was calm yet menacing:
"It doesn't matter who I am right now, but I'll need a
favour from you."
Pooja frowned, her grip tightening on the phone.
"How can I do a favour for you without knowing anything
about you?"
The man chuckled softly, his tone dripping with arrogance:
"You're right. Without knowing someone, you couldn't
trust them. But for now, I can't reveal my name… because I am the ruler of the
underworld."
Pooja's eyes widened.
"Ruler of the underworld? I don't understand what you're
talking about. And why did you call me?"
The voice grew darker, more deliberate:
"We are currently responsible for supplying illegal
drugs across the world. In India, we do our job just like a piece of cake. But
your brother… he is going to spoil the way we do our job."
Pooja's Shock
Her heart skipped a beat. She looked at her brother, who
avoided her gaze, his silence heavier than words.
"What are you saying? My brother? Spoil your job? What
do you mean?"
The voice on the phone grew sharper, almost mocking:
"Your brother was beaten up by some men in the
restaurant. He came home looking like a baby face. But he already got in our
way. It's fine — past is past. Now do one job for me: kill the people I'm
describing, and I will give you whatever you ask."
Pooja's eyes widened in disbelief. Her grip on the phone
tightened, her voice trembling but defiant:
"Why should I kill someone for a reward? I won't do
this. I'm going to complain to the cops right now."