PART 2: “Sir… I’m still a virgin… I’ve never been with any man in my life…”
Ajay slowly pulled something out of the suitcase.
Not clothes.
Not a laptop.
Not even toiletries.
It was a thick brown folder.
Under it were several smaller envelopes, a digital camera, and what looked disturbingly like printed photographs.
Meera’s throat tightened.
— “What… what is all that?”
Ajay didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he calmly placed the folder on the table and opened it.
The first thing Meera saw made her blood run cold.
A photograph.
Of her.
Walking out of her apartment building two weeks earlier.
Another photo.
Her sitting at a café with her coworker.
Another.
Her buying medicine at a pharmacy.
And then another.
Her standing outside her mother’s house.
Meera staggered backward.
— “W-what is this…?”
Ajay finally looked at her.
His face no longer carried the gentle warmth she had trusted for an entire year.
Now he looked… cold.
Calculated.
Like a stranger wearing Ajay’s face.
— “I needed to be sure,” he said quietly.
— “Sure of WHAT?!”
He slid another paper toward her.
A hospital record.
Her hospital record.
Meera’s eyes widened.
Her hands began shaking uncontrollably.
— “How did you get this?”
Ajay leaned back calmly.
— “You’d be surprised how easy it is when you know the right people.”
Meera felt nausea rise in her stomach.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
The air heavier.
— “You investigated me?”
— “For eleven months.”
That answer hit harder than a slap.
Eleven months.
Almost the entire time she had known him.
Every dinner.
Every thoughtful conversation.
Every comforting message.
Every ride home after work.
Every “good morning” text.
Everything had been part of something else.
Something she didn’t understand.
Meera’s voice cracked.
— “Why?”
Ajay stared at her for several seconds before answering.
— “Because I was looking for someone exactly like you.”
A terrible silence filled the room.
Meera slowly stepped toward the door.
Ajay noticed immediately.
— “Relax. If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn’t have waited this long.”
But that didn’t calm her.
Not even slightly.
Her fingers quietly reached for her phone inside her purse.
Ajay noticed that too.
And then he said something that made her freeze completely.
— “Your brother Rohan finishes work at 10:30, right?”
Meera stopped breathing.
Ajay continued softly:
— “And your mother’s blood pressure medication gets delivered every second Thursday.”
Her phone slipped from her trembling fingers onto the carpet.
Ajay knew.
He knew everything.
Not just about her.
About her family.
Her life.
Her routines.
Meera’s voice became barely audible.
— “Who are you?”
Ajay looked down at the folder for a moment.
For the first time that night, something flickered across his face.
Pain.
Real pain.
Then he pulled out one final photograph and handed it to her.
Meera looked down.
The girl in the picture looked almost exactly like her.
Same eyes.
Same smile.
Same long black hair.
But the photo looked old.
At least fifteen years old.
The girl couldn’t have been older than seventeen.
Meera frowned.
— “Who is she?”
Ajay’s jaw tightened.
— “My sister.”
Silence.
— “Her name was Kavya.”
He swallowed hard before continuing.
— “She trusted the wrong man.”
Meera didn’t speak.
Ajay stared at the photo like he had memorized every inch of it.
— “He pretended to love her. Promised marriage. Promised a future.”
His voice became colder with every sentence.
— “Then he filmed private moments without her knowledge.”
Meera felt sick.
Ajay continued:
— “When she tried to leave him, he blackmailed her.”
His hands clenched tightly.
— “Three weeks later, my sister jumped from the sixth floor of her college hostel.”
The room fell silent again.
Meera didn’t know what to say.
Ajay finally looked at her.
— “After she died, I found out something horrifying.”
He pushed the stack of photographs toward Meera.
They were pictures of different women.
Different ages.
Different cities.
Some smiling.
Some crying.
Some clearly unaware they were being photographed.
— “He never stopped.”
Meera whispered:
— “Who?”
Ajay answered with a voice so cold it barely sounded human anymore.
— “The man I’ve spent fourteen years trying to find.”
Meera stared at him, confused.
— “What does that have to do with me?”
Ajay slowly pointed toward her face.
— “Because you look exactly like the type he chooses.”
Her stomach dropped.
Ajay continued:
— “Same background. Same personality. Same habits. Intelligent. Reserved. No dating history. Emotionally careful. Family-oriented.”
Meera’s heart pounded harder.
— “I don’t understand…”
Ajay inhaled deeply.
— “Three months ago, I finally found evidence he had returned to this city.”
He pulled out another photo.
This time, Meera immediately recognized the man in it.
Her office manager.
Mr. Sandeep.
The same man who always acted polite.
The same man who encouraged her to attend company events.
The same man who introduced her to Ajay at a work conference.
Meera’s knees nearly gave out.
— “No…”
Ajay nodded slowly.
— “Yes.”
Her mind reeled violently.
Suddenly, every strange coincidence over the past year felt different.
The sudden promotion.
The unexpected invitations.
The way Sandeep always asked personal questions disguised as concern.
The way he constantly tried to learn whether she lived alone.
Meera whispered:
— “You think he’s dangerous?”
Ajay looked directly into her eyes.
— “I know he is.”
Then he opened another envelope.
Inside were printed screenshots.
Messages.
Photos.
Bank transfers.
Hidden camera screenshots from hotel rooms.
Meera felt her body go cold.
Ajay’s voice became quiet.
— “Six women.”
He pointed at the documents one by one.
— “Two disappeared completely.”
Another page.
— “One attempted suicide.”
Another.
— “One family paid him to stop releasing videos.”
Meera covered her mouth in horror.
Ajay looked away briefly.
— “I got close to you because he started showing interest in you.”
That sentence shattered something inside her.
Everything she had believed about him collapsed at once.
— “So none of this was real?” she whispered.
Ajay immediately answered:
— “That’s not true.”
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