"Vikram ji, why did you take the trouble to come down to meet me? You could have called me, and we would have met at your residence," said DGP Sumit Yadav, settling on the couch across Vikram.

Vikram tapped the fingers of his left hand against the armrest as his right hand held the cup of coffee. The intense aroma of the incense sticks burning in front of the portraits of the Goddess Durga took him back to the rituals carried out before his engagement with Shikha.

"Sumit ji, I need blanket immunity and police protection, and in return I'm going to offer crucial information about the workings of the underworld and step aside from my double life," he said.

Sumit's eyes widened, and he appeared lost for words. His eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, and he regarded Vikram's tense form as a pregnant silence enveloped the two men.

Sumit shook his head and placed the cup back on the table. "We cannot afford to allow the rise of another Suryaprakash Rao, Vikram ji. I'm sure you realize this decision of yours would skew the power dynamics across the state."

Vikram sipped the piping hot beverage to ease the lump at his throat. "We already skewed them, Sumit ji. I have relieved my men of their duties and ranks. I am offering to bring the balance back by eliminating the other leaders of the underworld."

Sumit contemplated his decision as he scanned Vikram's perturbed face. Vikram Singhal carried the mask of nonchalance and donned the facade of cold indifference. It was unheard of for him to display hints of worry or vulnerability.

But Sumit Yadav knew better. He knew the mask, and the facade were just the means to hide his insecurities and vulnerabilities. One of them had pushed him to take the reins of the underworld and it was not unlikely, Sumit believed, that it was another of those soft spots that compelled him to let go of those reins.

Sumit nodded in affirmation. "So be it, Vikram ji. I don't think I change this decision of yours, anyway."

Sumit saw the ghost of a smile twitch at Vikram's lips. "I hope you won't face a lot of resistance to do this, Sumit ji. Thank you!"

"There's no need to thank me, Vikram ji. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you. You saved my dear daughter from the clutches of those monsters working for Suryaprakash, and many others like her. I am indebted to you!" said Sumit.

Tears stung in the corners of his eyes as he reminisced about the dark times, riddled with fear and anticipation of the worst. Fearful female folk who went missing would never return home and the boys who had joined the ranks of Suryaprakash would forget mercy, morals and meaning of life.

Dread, despair and death danced to the tunes of devastation, along with the wails and cries of the populace. Lesser of the two evils, or so they had thought when Vikram Singhal ascended to power and dethroned the demoniac dictator.

But Vikram knew better. He had projected his neuroses onto the people when he designed the restrictions for the people yearning for freedom. That independence had been long overdue, and Shikha had given him the reason to listen to timid voice of conscience at the back of his head.

______________________________________________________

Vikram had not stepped his foot into the office till he had completed the immunity agreement. The utterance of her own death wish had rattled and shattered him. The mere thought of the ravaging moment made him wince and whimper in repentance.

The wait had finally ended and the State Government had finally agreed to his terms, with the help of Sumit. He wrapped his tremulous fingers around the file and walked into his cabin with Shekhar tailing him.

He settled into his plush chair and let out the breath he had been holding. "Send Shikha in."

Shekhar nodded at him and made his way to the cubicles. It had been ten days since he had seen the woman lingering in his thoughts and haunting his dreams. Her grit and resolve to not resign under undue pressure surprised and pleased him.

He caressed the vinyl film of the file and let out an exasperated sigh. The file held the key to the future he had looked forward to, despite his reservations about the same when Shikha had suggested. The creaking sound of the door opening made his eyes dart towards the door.

"Rohan? What are you doing here?" asked Vikram, frowning.

He had not missed the white envelope in the hands of the younger man. Rohan's worry and fear had manifested as the beads of sweat adorning his forehead and the slight twitching of his hands.

"S-Shikha asked me to give this!" he said, placing the envelope on the desk. Vikram grabbed the cover whilst staring at Rohan in shock. Rohan could not meet the stormy eyes of the older man, and his eyes darted to the ground.

Vikram's fingers trembled as he opened the cover and found a folded paper in it. He did not have to open and read the contents to know the meaning behind those words. He discarded the cover and opened the folded piece of paper. The characteristic sandalwood fragrance of her hit his nostrils and made his eyes sting with tears.

The haphazard writing in the letter evoked chaotic mess of emotion in his mind. The indentation on the other side made her mental state while writing the letter clear.

"I would have left the state by the time you read this letter. Despite all my complaints against you, I owe you my gratitude for teaching me life is not a bed of roses. At least, not in the way I have thought. It's a bed of roses and the thorns which draws blood and tears. Wise is the one, who knows how to separate those thorns from the roses and use them both. That's another thing you taught me. Manipulation."

A rumble formed at the back of his throat and threatened to slip out of his quivering lips.

"I offered you a rose of hope of better future and used the thorn of hatred to keep you on your toes and distracted from my plan. Strange, isn't it? I donned the same drape that I despised upon you. And in turn, I started to loathe myself, Vikram."

A whimper of pain escaped his lips, bruised from the incessant biting to subdue the sobs. Tears streamed down his flushed face. "That's why I am leaving. Maybe I can stop hating myself for turning into you someday. Maybe someday I won't look into the mirror to feel the urge to punish myself for falling into your trap."

Rohan hung his head, unable to meet the eyes of the tormented man. Vikram covered his mouth with his right palm to prevent the rumble at the back of his throat turn into a monstrous growl.

"You proved your passion by letting go of your underworld connections. Can you prove your love by letting go of me, Vikram? If you can, never try to search for me or keep tabs on me. If by a stroke of destiny, our paths cross again, I hope tears don't roll down our cheeks anymore. Goodbye!" she had said in the letter.

Vikram dropped the letter over the desk and blinked in rapid succession in hopes that the letter would vanish into thin air and the situation reveal itself as a figment of his imagination.

"I knew her plan. I had overheard it when she discussed it with Nikita. I thought I could stop her with my actions and promises. Alas, it was already too late. I turned a beautiful blossom into a bleeding rose."

__________________________________________________________________

What do you think will happen next?

So, few things. Sumit acts as if Vikram is some kind of savior, not because he is good, but because he is lesser of the two evils. He doesn't rape girls, at least, right? -_- When your expectations fall so low, even the lesser of the negatives will appear better and you feel satisfied. As ruthless as Vikram is, he's not a rapist and that, according to Sumit, is a saving grace and makes him better than others. It's just a sorry state of affairs.