The office was quiet that morning, but not in the usual way. There was tension in the air, invisible yet electric. Dushiant Rajput, still wearing the identity of Parth Bhardwaj, walked into the building with calm confidence. His mind, however, was a whirlwind of calculations and strategy. Today was the day he had been preparing for — the day Ravi Tripathi would fall.
Ravi had become increasingly annoying and problematic. His eyes, filled with lechery, wandered without shame. His presence corrupted the air around him. Dushiant had tolerated him for long enough. The man was not just a pest — he was a gatekeeper, an obstacle to the truth Dushiant needed.
The plan was simple, yet it required precision: earn Ranjan's trust by handing him irrefutable proof of Ravi's corruption, and simultaneously use Ranjan's authority to legitimize Ravi's downfall. But Dushiant had to make sure that Ravi's own greed would pull the trigger.
Dushiant began his day as usual, greeting the security at the entrance with a polite nod, scanning his fake ID badge, and stepping into the main lobby. Everything looked the same on the outside — the sterile lighting, the glass doors of the offices, the smell of coffee from the vending machines. But behind that glass, in the HR manager's office, sat a man whose reign was about to end.
He made his way up to the HR department. Ravi was already in, sipping his over-sweetened tea while scrolling through his phone.
"You're late," Ravi snapped without looking up.
"Sorry, sir. The metro was delayed," Dushiant replied in the perfect tone of nervous submission Parth Bhardwaj was known for.
Ravi grunted and tossed a stack of papers onto Dushiant's desk.
"Take care of these. And don't screw it up."
"Yes, sir."
Behind that fake smile, Dushiant's mind was somewhere else. He had copied all of Ravi's private files from the computer three nights ago. Among the stolen data were photos, videos, and messages — solid proof of Ravi's harassment and bribery schemes. But he needed to tie it to a real-time transaction to seal the deal.
At lunchtime, Dushiant slipped away and made his way to the fourth floor where Ranjan's cabin was. He knocked politely.
"Come in," Ranjan called.
Dushiant stepped inside. Ranjan looked up, surprised. "You? What are you doing here, Bhardwaj?"
"Sir, I have something... important. You'll want to see this."
He placed a sealed envelope on the desk. Ranjan opened it and pulled out a USB.
"What's this?"
"Proof, sir. Proof that Mr. Ravi Tripathi has been accepting bribes to hire interns. Proof of harassment too. I think it's best you see it."
Ranjan raised a brow but inserted the USB into his laptop. The screen lit up. There were folder after folder of evidence. Videos showing Ravi taking cash under the table, screenshots of inappropriate texts, and audio files with recordings of interns pleading for protection.
The room was silent for ten minutes as Ranjan clicked through it all. When he finally looked up, his face had lost some of its color.
"You got all this?"
"Yes, sir. I think we can't keep this quiet anymore. I'm willing to do something about it, but I need your help."
Ranjan studied him closely now. "You're not who you say you are, are you?"
There was a pause.
"Let's just say I care deeply about this company," Dushiant said softly. "More than most people think."
That afternoon, Dushiant returned to his desk. Everything had to play out perfectly now. The next phase of the plan involved a trap.
He typed a message to Ravi:
Sir, I have a friend whose younger brother wants an internship. He's willing to pay 10 lakhs if you can help.
Seconds later, Ravi replied:
10 lakhs? Done. But I want half in cash today.
"Perfect," Dushiant muttered.
He pulled out an envelope from his bag — filled with fake notes, only the top and bottom notes were real. Just enough to convince a greedy fool.
He told Ravi he'd meet him in the breakroom near the old server room — the perfect place for a hidden camera. Dushiant had already placed two spy cams the previous night. He made sure Ranjan knew the time of the meeting and had someone from the internal security team ready.
At 4 PM, Dushiant walked into the breakroom. Ravi was already there, pacing nervously.
"You brought the money?"
"Yes, sir. Half now, half once the internship is confirmed."
He handed over the envelope. Ravi opened it and started counting, licking his lips like a man who had found buried treasure.
"Good," Ravi said. "Tell your friend to call me tomorrow. And remember, don't mention this to anyone."
Dushiant smiled and nodded. "Of course, sir."
Just then, the door burst open. Ranjan walked in, flanked by two security officers.
"Ravi Tripathi, you are under investigation for misconduct, bribery, and harassment. Please come with us."
Ravi turned white. "What? This is a mistake!"
"No mistake," Ranjan said calmly. "We have everything recorded. Videos, messages, and now — this."
He held up the envelope.
Ravi tried to run, but the guards grabbed him and cuffed him right there.
Dushiant stood silently as Ravi was dragged out of the room, still protesting.
The rest of the day passed in a haze. Whispers spread like wildfire. By evening, an official statement was circulated: Ravi Tripathi had been terminated and was being investigated by the police.
Dushiant sat at his desk, looking out the window. One obstacle removed. But he knew the real game had only just begun.
Ranjan called him into the office again at 6:30 PM.
"I don't know who you are," Ranjan said slowly. "But I owe you. This would have destroyed the company."
Dushiant nodded. "I told you. I care. That's all that matters."
Ranjan leaned forward. "I think we can help each other. Ravi was... a barrier. Now that he's gone, things can move smoothly."
"I agree. And I think we both want the same thing — the truth."
Ranjan narrowed his eyes. "You're still hiding something. But you've earned some trust. Keep it that way."
"Thank you, sir."
As Dushiant walked out of the office, he knew this move had done more than remove a corrupt manager — it had opened a door. Ranjan was beginning to see him not as a junior intern, but as someone useful.
And soon, very soon, he would know the truth.
But not yet.
For now, he was still Parth Bhardwaj. And tomorrow was another day.
To be continued...