Episode 6

Got it! From Episode 6 onward, I’ll make the story even more thrilling, filled with unexpected twists, deeper suspense, and more intense moments that will keep readers hooked.

Get ready for an unforgettable ride—Episode 6 is coming up next!

Death at Midnight

Episode 6: The Killer Revealed

The dim glow of the study lamp flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Inspector Aryan Mehta stood frozen, the photograph trembling in his fingers.

His heart pounded like a war drum.

The killer was someone inside the house.

He traced the faces in the photograph—the undeniable proof staring back at him. Karan Malhotra and the murderer, side by side, smiling like old friends.

But now, one of them was dead.

And the other…

Aryan’s grip tightened on his gun. He needed to act fast.

Whoever had killed Karan was still in the house, watching, waiting—and if they knew Aryan had figured it out, he would be the next to die.

The Watcher in the Shadows

A soft creak echoed through the silent study.

Aryan’s instincts kicked in. Someone was behind him.

He spun around, his gun raised—but the room was empty.

Or so it seemed.

The air felt heavier now, thick with something unseen. Aryan knew when he was being watched.

His gaze flickered to the curtains. They were swaying slightly, though there was no breeze.

He took a silent step forward.

And then—

A hand burst through the fabric, lunging at him with a knife.

Aryan barely dodged in time, the blade grazing his shoulder. Pain flared, but he didn’t let it slow him down.

He grabbed the attacker’s wrist, twisting it sharply. A muffled grunt. A shadowy figure staggered backward, their face hidden beneath a dark hood.

"Who are you?" Aryan growled.

The figure didn’t answer. Instead, they threw a fistful of dust into his eyes.

Aryan recoiled, momentarily blinded.

By the time he wiped his vision clear, the figure was gone—vanishing into the labyrinthine corridors of the mansion.

But they had left something behind.

A silver cufflink, glinting under the study’s dim light.

Aryan picked it up, his pulse quickening.

He had seen this cufflink before.

And he knew exactly who it belonged to.

A Dead Man’s Secret

Aryan didn’t waste a second. He stormed down the hallway, his mind racing. The mansion was eerily silent, the air thick with secrets.

He reached the grand staircase and took the steps two at a time. His destination was clear.

Karan Malhotra’s bedroom.

The door creaked as he pushed it open. The room smelled of expensive cologne and old money. The bed remained untouched since Karan’s death, the silk sheets still rumpled from his last night alive.

Aryan’s eyes landed on the massive wardrobe in the corner. He yanked it open and began rifling through the shelves.

Then—his fingers brushed against something unusual.

A false panel at the back of the wardrobe.

His heart pounded as he pried it open, revealing a hidden compartment.

Inside, wrapped in velvet, was a locked wooden box.

Aryan pulled it out, his breath catching.

What the hell was Karan hiding?

The Truth Comes to Light

With careful precision, Aryan forced the lock open. The lid creaked, revealing a stack of letters, an old revolver, and a bundle of cash.

But it was the letters that caught his attention.

Yellowed with age, the ink slightly faded. He picked up the first one and began to read.

And with every word, the truth hit him like a freight train.

The letters weren’t from Meera.

They were from someone much closer to Karan than anyone had suspected.

Someone who had lived under this very roof.

Someone who had every reason to want Karan Malhotra dead.

Aryan swallowed hard.

Because the killer was none other than—

Anjali Malhotra.

The Widow’s Game

A slow clap echoed from behind him.

Aryan turned, his gun raised.

And there she was.

Draped in a silk nightgown, her dark eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

Anjali Malhotra.

The grieving widow.

The woman who had played the perfect role of a heartbroken wife.

The murderer.

"You’re smarter than I thought, Inspector," she said, stepping forward. Her voice was smooth, confident. "But I was hoping you’d take a little longer."

Aryan’s jaw clenched. "You killed your husband."

A small, almost amused smile played on her lips. "Of course, I did."

She walked over to the bar, pouring herself a drink like they were discussing the weather. "Do you know what it’s like to live in a golden cage, Inspector? To be married to a man who controls every part of your life?"

She took a sip, her eyes never leaving his.

"I gave Karan everything. And do you know how he repaid me?"

She set the glass down, her fingers tapping against the crystal.

"He betrayed me."

Aryan’s grip tightened on his gun. "So you poisoned him?"

Anjali sighed, almost bored. "Poison is such a dramatic word. Let’s just say… I freed myself."

Aryan took a step closer. "You were the one who ordered the vent repairs."

She nodded. "And I made sure the cyanide was in place before the job was finished."

"You manipulated Meera. Used her as a scapegoat."

She smirked. "Meera was a fool. She thought she was playing me—but I was playing her all along."

Aryan exhaled sharply. "And Patel? Did you kill him too?"

Anjali’s smile widened. "Oh, Inspector… I haven’t even started yet."