Anisha’s Perspective:“How can you kill him just to save this non-existent traitor? We know you don’t get along with him, but this is going too far!” The voices grew louder, and the room filled with tension and anger. After a moment, I came to realize that my father’s right-hand man, Mr. Anderson, was accusing me of the heinous act of killing someone to protect a supposed traitor.My heart raced, each thump echoing the chaos that had consumed the opulent ballroom. Mr. Anderson’s accusations pierced the air, his voice a tempest of rage as he pointed an accusing finger at me. The weight of his words settled upon me like an iron shroud, suffocating me in a storm of disbelief.Elijah’s lifeless form was lying beside me, a chilling reminder of the events that had transpired. My fingers trembled around the hilt of the knife, the cold metal sending shivers through me as I clutched it. My mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation that had spiraled beyond my control.In our world, kill

Reyansh's POVHridhan, his presence commanding attention, cleared his throat, drawing the focus of both mine and Aanya's wandering thoughts. His gaze met ours, and he spoke with a blend of authority and anticipation. "Tomorrow evening marks the Annual Business Award Ceremony," he announced, his voice as rich as molten chocolate. "And, Anisha, and Aanya, we would like it if you both accompany us as our date to this event."The room seemed to sway, and every fiber of my being shivered with a mix of emotions and anticipation. Aanya's eyes widened in disbelief, mirroring my astonishment.The room hung heavy with anticipation. Hridhan's proposal had sent ripples through our small gathering, and it was clear that both Aanya and Anisha were surprised by his suggestion. Their eyes, wide with curiosity and perhaps a hint of skepticism, betrayed the whirlwind of thoughts spinning in their minds.To quell any doubts and offer clarity, Hridhan leaned forward, his expression composed but determine

Reyansh's POV The masquerade ball continued in full swing, a symphony of secrets and hidden agendas concealed behind elegant masks. Aanya and I moved through the crowd, our identities safely shrouded with the help of masks, our purpose clear—to observe and gather information, all while keeping a vigilant eye on the members of the Dagger Syndicate. But it will not be long before I have to remove the mask and reveal my identity. The grand hall was a tapestry of opulence, bathed in the soft glow of crystal chandeliers. The marble floor beneath our feet seemed to echo with centuries of history of the criminal world, and the walls adorned with fine art whispered tales of extravagance and power. As we mingled with the city's elite, I recollect their hidden secrets and confidential conversations, carefully noting any potential clues or connections to the Dagger Syndicate. I have information about all the mafia groups except the other two major groups of the criminal world. I exchanged ple

Aanya's Perspective:Mr. Rout withdrew his hand, and in the softest tone I had ever heard from him, he asked, "Are you okay?" His words were laced with genuine concern, a stark contrast to the anger that had initially flared in his eyes. It was as though he had set aside his frustration and anger to genuinely inquire about my well-being.Mr. Rout's voice cut through my reverie, snapping me back to the reality of the masquerade ball. His question, whether I was okay, hung in the air like a fragile thread, and for a moment, I considered brushing it off. I knew I couldn't afford to let my vulnerability show. With a soft but assured tone, I replied, "I'm okay." It was a simple response, but one that concealed the tumultuous thoughts swirling within me. I settled back into my seat, determined to maintain my composure.As I scanned the opulent ballroom, I noticed a peculiar shift in the atmosphere. Every male guest seemed to be deeply engrossed in conversation, their masks now resting on th

Aanya's Perspective:As I let my gaze wander through the grand hall of the masquerade ball, I couldn't help but marvel at the opulence that surrounded me. The chandeliers overhead cast a warm, inviting glow, while the richly adorned walls seemed to whisper tales of the many secrets concealed within them. The entire room exuded an air of sophistication and intrigue that was characteristic of such gatherings.My attention, however, was soon drawn to something unexpected. Amidst the sea of masked faces and elegantly attired guests, there he was – Robert Miller. It was a sight I hadn't anticipated, and I couldn't help but be both surprised and intrigued by his presence.I studied Mr. Miller discreetly, my eyes trailing from the top of his perfectly coiffed hair to the tips of his impeccably polished shoes. He stood in conversation with a group of men, their faces partially obscured by the crowd. I strained to see who they were, but not all of their identities were immediately clear to me.