Chapter 198: The Blast
Outside the police station, the morning air felt unusually heavy.
Rohit stood beside the Bentley, wearing a polite smile as he observed Alok Sinha. To any outsider, it looked like a simple moment of gratitude between a young savior and an elderly man he had rescued. In truth, Rohit was carefully dissecting every detail.
The petrol pump incident no longer felt right.
Until the violence erupted, everything had followed a logical chain. But afterward, too many things became difficult to explain — Hari Kaka’s unexplained presence, the DCP’s unusually swift intervention, and the speed with which orders had come from above.
Rohit had never personally interacted with DCP Divyani. There was no reason for her to intervene on his behalf.
Which meant the protection was most likely meant for Alok Sinha.
But why?
More importantly, why had a man with such powerful connections allowed the situation to spiral into violence?
Someone with that level of influence could have ended the dispute with a single phone call.
Instead, Alok had chosen confrontation. He had insisted on recording the fuel dispenser. He had stayed at the center of the chaos even after batons were drawn.
It felt less like stubbornness and more like a calculated performance.
’I need to investigate this old man,’ Rohit thought.
Alok’s warm voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
"Thank you, son," the retired serviceman said sincerely, then turned to Kuldeep. "If not for your timely help, things could have ended very badly."
Kuldeep smiled politely. "You’re thanking the wrong person, Uncle." He gestured toward Rohit. "Young Master gave the order. I simply carried it out."
Aisha folded her arms and snorted softly, her expression clearly saying, Exactly what I told you.
Alok slowly turned to Rohit, his eyes filled with genuine respect. "This is the second time you’ve helped me. First at the subway, now at the petrol pump. I don’t know how to repay such a debt."
Rohit slipped his hands into his pockets, smiling lightly. "Maybe it’s just fate, Uncle." His gaze sharpened. "But why didn’t you mention earlier that you knew our family? Surely Sheetal must have spoken about us."
Alok laughed heartily. "Not at all. I’ve never visited the Singhania estate. Everything I know comes from listening to Sheetal’s stories."
Before Rohit could probe further, Captain Ashok Sinha approached and clapped a firm hand on Rohit’s shoulder.
"Thank you, brother. Our family is deeply indebted to you." Ashok pulled out a crisp calling card and handed it over. "If you ever need anything, contact me immediately."
Rohit glanced at the embossed card — Rajputana Rifles, 7th Battalion, Captain Ashok Sinha.
That explained the military bearing.
"Sure.. I will," Rohit replied with a polite nod.
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Captain Ashok Sinha guided his father toward the waiting military jeep.
Sheetal watched the vehicle depart with misty eyes before turning back to Rohit. She stepped closer and gently took his hands, her voice thick with emotion.
"Thank you, Rohit... you have done an incredible favor for my family today."
From a few meters away, standing beside her sleek Audi, Arya snapped impatiently, "Sheetal, we’re already late. Let’s go."
Her sharp gaze completely ignored Rohit.
Sheetal was about to say goodbye when Rohit suddenly closed the distance and pulled her into a warm, firm hug. Sheela stiffened for a second before relaxing.
"It’s alright, Sheetal," he murmured near her ear, his voice smooth and protective. "You’re like an elder sister to me. In fact, I think I should start calling you Big Sis from now on."
A bright, genuine smile bloomed on Sheetal’s face. She ruffled his hair affectionately.
"Fine then, little brother."
From inside the Audi, Arya’s face flushed a deep, furious crimson. She violently yanked open the driver’s door, threw herself into the seat, and slammed it shut.
Completely unaware of the storm she had caused, Sheetal laughed softly. "I’ll treat you to a proper meal soon."
With one last wave, she hurried to the car. Moments later, the Audi sped away.
Rohit watched it disappear down the road before returning to the Bentley. As soon as he settled into the back seat, Aisha dropped down beside him and let out a long, exhausted sigh.
"Finally."
She adjusted her uniform and leaned back. "We can actually go to school now."
Rohit glanced out the window one last time, his eyes lingering in the direction Alok’s jeep had gone.
The old man had left.
But the questions he carried had not.
And Rohit intended to find every single answer.
***
Meanwhile on other side of Delhi,
Aditya Narayan Mittal sat rigidly in the back of his armored Mercedes, jaw clenched as the car sped toward Trump Towers.
The weight of Mittal Enterprises pressed heavily on his shoulders.
With the sudden death of his only son and rightful heir, Jayesh, his dream of becoming the undisputed head of the family empire was slipping away like sand through his fingers.
His siblings, Pramod and Vaishali, smelled blood in the water.
They had already begun circling like sharks, pressuring their aging father, Lakshmi Narayan Mittal — the legendary Steel King of India, to reconsider the line of succession.
They wanted Aditya’s shares, his position, and ultimately his complete removal from power.
’Traitors,’ Aditya thought bitterly. ’My own blood.’
Just as the car turned onto the main road, his driver and head bodyguard, Naveen, suddenly received a call. His face turned deathly pale.
"Sir!" Naveen shouted, slamming the brakes. "There’s a bomb! Get out now!"
Aditya barely had time to react. Naveen yanked him out of the car with desperate strength. They had barely stumbled a few meters when the Mercedes exploded behind them with a deafening roar.
The blast threw both men forward violently. Aditya crashed onto the dirt, his clothes shredded and ears ringing. Burning debris rained down around them as thick black smoke rose into the sky.
Naveen, despite being badly injured, had thrown himself over Aditya to shield him.
"Sir... are you alright?" Naveen gasped.
Aditya’s heart hammered wildly. "I’m alive," he coughed, pushing himself up. "Whose call was that?"
Naveen weakly handed him the phone. "He’s still on the line, sir."
Aditya snatched the phone, breathing heavily. A smooth, confident voice came through.
"Mr. Mittal... I hope you are not dead."
Aditya’s voice turned into a snarl. "You bastard! Was it you who planted that bomb?"
The caller chuckled lightly. "Relax, Mr. Mittal. I am not your enemy. If I truly wanted you dead, we wouldn’t be having this conversation."
Aditya’s eyes narrowed dangerously. "Who the hell is speaking? Why are you helping me? What do you want?"
"What do I want?" The man laughed, his voice booming. "Have you heard of Southern King Anna? I am his right hand — Mrinal."
Aditya’s mind raced. Anna had once been a long-distance ally of Ahmed. After a brutal fallout, Ahmed had killed Anna during that stormy night. Both Ahmed and Anna’s remnants had been caught in a police raid, but Ahmed was later killed in public by a rival gang.
Mrinal continued smoothly,
"What I want is simple — revenge. I want the head of Raju Plumber. That bastard is behind all of this."
Aditya’s eyebrows furrowed deeply. "What the hell are you talking about? Weren’t you supposed to hit the Ahmad gang? Now you’re telling me you want to side with the people who murdered your leader? Are you playing games with me?"
Mrinal let out a bitter chuckle. "That’s what I thought too... at first. But I got better intel. The van blast wasn’t what it seemed. Raju is the real instigator. He’s been pulling strings from the shadows."
Aditya’s jaw tightened. He remembered what Suraj had told him. The story matched... but that didn’t make it easy to swallow. "So you’re saying he’s the one who tried to bomb me? That Raju is working with our enemies?"
Mrinal nodded slowly. "Exactly. And those same people are responsible for your son Jayesh’s death. Now do you understand why we should work together?"
A sharp pain twisted in Aditya’s chest. For a moment, the old wound felt fresh again. He had suspected the Singhania family, even some of his own siblings... but this was a clearer, uglier picture.
Still, he wasn’t a fool.
"Like I would trust a ruffian like you," Aditya scoffed, leaning back with a cold expression. "Give me proof. Give me a solid name. Without that, this conversation is over."
Mrinal laughed again, a low, mocking sound. "Even a drowning man won’t dare refuse help when he knows he’s truly doomed, Mr. Mittal.. Think carefully — who stands to gain the most by removing you and your son? Since they can’t touch you directly yet, they went after Jayesh."
He paused for effect, then continued smoothly, "If you want real answers, get me out of prison. This time, I heard their plans. Next time... I may not be so lucky."
The call disconnected abruptly.
Aditya stared at the phone for a second before smashing it violently onto the ground.
"Fucking bastards..." he growled, eyes burning with murderous rage. "I will see every single one of you burn."
************************************************
A/N: I am fully aware that there are several intense threads of tension open right now. Rest assured, I will be fast-tracking the resolution of some of these immediate traps very soon, while leaving a few key anchors to drive the next major arc. Stay tuned!