The news van screeched to a halt beside the court, joining two already parked others, their crews unloading cameras and equipment in a frenzy. Reporters, microphones in hand, sprinted toward AJ Laxmi, the scent of headlines in the air, eyes hungry for a story.

Vidya guided AJ Laxmi swiftly toward the car, ignoring the questions thrown at them. The media chased after them, their shouts growing louder, but AJ Laxmi's focus remained elsewhere.

Inside the car, AJ Laxmi slumped into the seat. His face was etched with exhaustion, bandages wrapping his head and arms. His eyes, hollow from grief and sleepless nights, darted to the rearview mirror as the chaos outside faded.

"Like vultures... they won't leave me alone," he muttered under his breath, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. "It hasn't even been a minute since I stepped out, and they're already swarming."

The room was tense, filled with the soft hum of electronics and the weight of the conversation. Ayan, Nitya, Cricket, Vidya, and AJ Laxmi sat around the table, each deep in thought. Laxmi's face, tired and worn, showed the strain of recent events, while Vidya's expression remained calm and professional.

Vidya spoke first, "You've lost one round already. The public still hasn't forgotten about your previous case, now this has come up. I don't mean to offend you, but the public's image of you is that of a murderer... that's what they see."

Laxmi shifted uncomfortably but didn't interrupt.

"They're not going to have a hard time believing you were behind the killings of those farmers," Vidya continued, "or that you were trying to seize their land."

Laxmi leaned forward, frustration flickering in his eyes. "I didn't kill anyone," he said firmly. "Those farmers agreed to the terms willingly. This is all part of the opposition's larger game, nothing more."

Ayan leaned forward, his voice steady but piercing through the tension. "Vidya's telling you what we believe — what the public believes," he began, looking directly at Laxmi. "You needed a hundred acres of land to get one of your projects passed. When you tried to buy it from the farmers, they refused."

The room grew quieter as Ayan continued, his words deliberate. "Then you chose other methods. Some farmers were pressured into signing the papers, but others... others were killed during the protests, their deaths used to instill fear."

Laxmi clenched his fists, but remained silent, eyes narrowing as Ayan's accusations hung in the air.

Laxmi's voice trembled with frustration as he responded, "Nothing like that happened. It's all made-up stories, just rumors spread by the opposition. If this project gets approved, their entire power base will crumble."

His words were forceful, but there was an underlying desperation in his tone. He glanced around the room, searching for any sign of support, but the tension lingered. The others remained quiet, absorbing the weight of his defense as the shadows in the room seemed to deepen.

Ayan's voice was steady, piercing through the thick silence, "I saw the bodies myself, the farmers lying dead. I spoke to their families. They all confirmed it — your men were involved."

Laxmi turned to Nitya, his face pale, eyes wide with panic. "I panicked! Is that a crime? We sent men to talk, just to negotiate, because the deal wasn't going the way we expected. But it was only to talk, nothing more."

Cricket leaned forward, the weight of the situation clear in his voice. "He's right. People need to know the truth about this."

Ayan's gaze didn't falter as he pressed on, "Do you have any evidence to prove your innocence? Something concrete to back up your side of the story?"

Laxmi blinked, caught off guard, his mind racing for answers, as the room hung in an uneasy silence, waiting for what came next.

Laxmi's voice cracked as he yelled, his frustration boiling over. "So, you think I did this, boy? You really believe I'm behind all of it?"

He looked toward Nitya, desperation in his eyes, searching for an ally. Nitya remained calm, her words cutting through the tension like a blade. "He's the key, Laxmi. The winner. People never see it coming, when or how it'll hit."

Laxmi's face fell into sorrow. His voice lowered, almost pleading, "My brother's daughter... She's the most important thing to me right now. After my wife, my brother, and my sister-in-law died, she's all I have left. I'm her entire world. And right now, she needs me more than ever."

His eyes darted between Ayan and Nitya, filled with a mix of fear and urgency. "If I go to jail, she'll be left alone. She won't survive that. Please... I need to get out of this as fast as possible, so I can be with her."

A heavy silence hung in the room, the gravity of his words pressing on everyone present.

Laxmi pointed at the bandages wrapped around his head and body, his voice strained with pain and frustration. "This accident was no accident. It was planned to take my life and steal the signed land papers. By God's grace, I survived, and I managed to hide those papers somewhere safe."

He paused, a moment of doubt flickering in his eyes. "But... because of the memory loss, I can't recall where I hid them. I need your help to jog my memory, to find where I stashed those papers. Once we have them, this whole case will crumble. It'll be over."

Ayan nodded, accepting the weight of what Laxmi was asking.

Laxmi, still feeling the exhaustion from the day, sighed. "Tonight, I'm taking sleeping pills. Tomorrow morning, 9 a.m., at my house."

He stopped at the door, glancing back at Nitya, his voice lowering to a murmur of distrust. "I don't trust this boy, not at all. He better be as brilliant as you've assured me."

Nitya's lips curled into a confident smile as she watched Laxmi leave the room. His footsteps faded, leaving Ayan standing there, absorbing the magnitude of what was to come.

Vlada sat confidently in Ayan's chair, her short skirt revealing toned legs, the hem riding high as she nonchalantly adjusted her stockings. The light from the window filtered through, casting a soft glow around her, making the scene feel more intense than it was. Her movements were deliberate, and controlled, as if she knew exactly the kind of power she held at that moment.

"Enjoyed yourself at the party?" Vlada's voice cut through the silence, smooth, with a hint of something teasing.

Ayan stood near the door, caught off guard. He shifted uncomfortably, unsure whether to acknowledge the obvious tension in the room or pretend like it wasn't there.

"Sorry," he muttered, clearly at a loss for words, "I'm just..."

Vlada leaned back in Ayan's chair, crossing her legs with an air of superiority, her eyes sharp and teasing.

"Just what? Looking?" she asked, her lips curving into a knowing smile.

Ayan shifted awkwardly, guilt evident on his face. "Guilty," he muttered under his breath.

Vlada's smile widened as she congratulated him, "Congratulations on Laxmi."

"Thank you," Ayan responded, though his tone was cautious.

Her eyes glinted as she leaned forward slightly. "Even if you lose, you'll still become famous."

Ayan looked at her, his expression hardening. "And if I win?"

"If you win..." Vlada's smile deepened, filled with mystery and promise. "If you win, everything else becomes irrelevant, doesn't it?"

Ayan felt the weight of her words. She was right. Victory would change everything.

"Any advice?" he asked

Vlada stood up, her sharp heels clicking against the floor as she moved closer to Ayan, her eyes narrowing with intensity.

"He's an idiot," she whispered, her voice dripping with contempt. "A cunning idiot. His mind's been trained differently. You'll have to think outside the box if you want to outplay him."

Ayan nodded, the weight of her words sinking in. "I'll keep it in mind," he replied, his tone more serious now.

Just as she was about to leave, Vlada leaned in, her breath warm against his ear, her voice low and teasing. "You can look all you want, but I don't sleep with guys who are in relationships."

Ayan smirked, unfazed by her playful threat. "I thought you were perfect."

Vlada gave him a parting smile, her eyes glinting with amusement, before she turned and walked away.

Shayla and Adya sat comfortably on the plush couch, a gentle afternoon light filtering through the large windows. Shayla leaned in, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

"Something feels different about you..." she remarked, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Adya returned the smile, curiosity evident in her expression. "What do you mean by different?"

"Your glasses," Shaiyla replied, her tone playful. "You've switched to lenses, haven't you?"

Adya nodded a hint of pride in her voice. "Yeah, I've started wearing lenses."

"Exactly! I knew it!" Shayla exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious. "See, you look amazing. Your eye color is so beautiful. It makes me want to dive right into them."

Shaiyla's gaze deepened, her eyes locking onto Adya's, creating an intensity that made Adya shift slightly in her seat, feeling a bit uncomfortable under the scrutiny.