The next few days felt like an endless blur for Arjun. The more he delved into the mystery of Devanand, the deeper the shadows around him seemed to grow. His mind, once steady and focused, now felt like a fragile thread, unraveling at the edges. The walls of the resort seemed to close in around him, the thick fog outside mirroring the fog inside his mind. Every step he took felt as if he was descending further into a labyrinth with no exit.
Ravi’s warning echoed in his ears: “Be careful what you wish for.” But it was too late for regrets. Arjun had already crossed the line, and there was no turning back now.
One evening, after a particularly exhausting day of searching for answers, Arjun sat in the resort’s dining hall, nursing a glass of wine that he barely tasted. He hadn’t seen Vandana in days, and the absence of her presence made the place feel even more haunted. The staff had become distant as well, speaking in hushed tones and casting nervous glances whenever Arjun passed by.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that something—someone—was watching him. A cold draft blew through the room, and the candle flames flickered, casting dancing shadows on the walls.
Suddenly, a voice broke the silence.
“Mr. Desai.”
Arjun looked up to see Maya Kapoor, the former actress he had spoken to earlier, standing at the entrance to the hall. She was dressed in a simple white sari, her face a mask of calm that hid something far deeper. Her eyes, however, betrayed a hint of something she had been keeping buried.
“Maya,” Arjun greeted her, his tone guarded. “What are you doing here?”
Maya hesitated before walking toward him, her movements slow, deliberate. She sat down across from him without waiting for an invitation, her eyes scanning the room as if to make sure no one was listening.
“You’re getting closer, aren’t you?” Maya asked softly, her voice low, barely above a whisper.
Arjun’s pulse quickened. “Closer to what?”
She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she glanced over her shoulder one more time before leaning forward, her face tense with the weight of unspoken knowledge.
“Devanand wasn’t just a star,” Maya said. “He was a part of something that goes much deeper than you think. The truth you’re seeking… it’s dangerous, Arjun. People have died for less.” She paused, her eyes now locked onto his. “But you already know that, don’t you?”
Arjun’s heart pounded in his chest. “What do you mean?”
Maya leaned back, taking a deep breath, her gaze softening for a moment. “Devanand wasn’t just investigating corruption in the film industry. He had stumbled upon something far darker—something tied to this very resort.” She leaned in closer, her voice barely audible. “There’s a secret hidden here, Mr. Desai. A secret that was never meant to be uncovered.”
Arjun felt the weight of her words settle on him like a stone. “A secret?”
“Yes,” Maya confirmed. “This resort was built as a refuge for the stars, yes. But it was also built as a place to hide something. Something that has to do with the history of Bollywood—its foundation. And Devanand, with his curiosity and sharp mind, was the first to realize that what he had been told was a lie. The glamour, the fame, the stars—they were all part of a carefully constructed illusion.”
Arjun leaned forward, his hands trembling slightly. “What exactly did Devanand discover?”
Maya’s face darkened, and she glanced around again before speaking in a hushed voice. “Devanand was investigating the resort’s role in the establishment of Bollywood’s film moguls—the ones who held the reins of power. He found out that this place wasn’t just a getaway. It was the site of an underground meeting ground for the industry’s founding figures, men who made decisions that shaped not just the films we saw, but the way the world saw us.”
Arjun’s mind raced. “So, what you’re saying is that this resort wasn’t just a retreat for the rich and famous—it was a hub for the men who controlled the industry from the shadows?”
Maya nodded slowly. “Exactly. And Devanand, being Devanand, began digging too deep. He found out about their connections—about the blackmail, the manipulation, the way they controlled everything. He even found records of their dealings with powerful figures in the government. But he couldn’t bring the truth to light. Not when the people involved were willing to do anything to protect themselves.”
Arjun leaned back in his chair, his head spinning with this new revelation. The actors, the stars, the glamour—none of it had been real. It had all been a façade, a mask to hide the ugly truth.
“The resort was built to keep the powerful people in control,” Maya continued. “It’s not just a hotel. It’s a prison—both for the stars who stay here and for those who want to expose the truth. They bury the past here, along with their secrets.”
Arjun felt a cold chill run through him as he connected the dots. Devanand had uncovered a conspiracy far greater than he had imagined. And in his pursuit of the truth, he had become a threat to those who wanted to keep their power intact.
“That’s why Devanand disappeared,” Arjun said quietly. “They killed him because he was a threat. But why wasn’t his death ever investigated? Why has everything been swept under the rug?”
Maya’s eyes darkened. “Because the people in charge of this place—Vandana, the staff, even some of the other actors who come here—they all know. They’ve been complicit. They’ve kept the truth hidden because it benefits them. They’ve kept their power, their wealth, all because the world doesn’t know what really happened.”
Arjun clenched his fists. “But I’m going to find out. I’m going to expose everything.”
Maya’s expression softened, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Arjun, you have no idea what you’re dealing with. Devanand died because he wanted to uncover the truth, but the truth comes with a cost. You’re getting closer to something that will change everything—and not in a good way.”
Arjun felt a pang of fear, but it was quickly replaced with resolve. “I can’t stop now, Maya. I need to finish what Devanand started.”
Maya looked at him for a long moment, her face torn between warning him and admiring his determination. Finally, she nodded, almost imperceptibly.
“Then be careful, Arjun. The truth you’re seeking… it will cost you more than you can imagine.”
As Arjun sat back in his chair, Maya stood and turned to leave. She paused by the door, casting one last glance at him. “And remember,” she said quietly, “there’s no such thing as innocence here. Not anymore.”
The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Arjun alone in the dim light of the dining hall. His hands shook slightly as he placed his glass down, the weight of Maya’s words settling in. Devanand had been right. The truth wasn’t just buried—it was protected, hidden by those who would stop at nothing to keep it that way.
And Arjun was about to uncover it all. But at what cost?
7
The next few days felt like a fever dream. Arjun’s mind was consumed by the weight of the truth Maya had revealed. The deeper he delved into the mystery, the darker the waters seemed to become. His nights were haunted by dreams of Devanand—visions of the actor, standing in the mist, eyes wide with the same unspoken terror that had consumed him in life. The faces of the resort staff, too, took on an unfamiliar quality. Every interaction, every glance now seemed laced with a hidden meaning, a quiet warning.
As Arjun continued his investigation, the walls of the resort began to feel less like barriers and more like an inescapable prison. There was no place left where he could escape from the ever-tightening grip of the conspiracy he had uncovered. Devanand’s death was just the beginning—a part of something much larger, something that Arjun was now helplessly swept up in.
On the fifth night after his conversation with Maya, Arjun could no longer deny the urgency that gnawed at him. He had to act. Every day, he felt the walls closing in. His only hope now was to find more concrete evidence, something undeniable that would force the truth to come to light.
The night was still, the moonlight filtering through the thick fog that clung to the valley. Arjun stood outside his room, staring into the darkness. The sound of his own heartbeat was louder than the rustling of the trees. He knew he couldn’t do this alone. He needed someone on the inside, someone who had access to the hidden corners of the resort. He needed Vandana.
She was the key—she had to know something.
Arjun had avoided her in the days following his discovery in the cellar. Her cold, distant demeanor had only confirmed his suspicion that she knew far more than she let on. But now, after everything he had learned, there was no avoiding the inevitable confrontation.
With a deep breath, he pushed open the door to her office.
The room was quiet, only the soft hum of the old ceiling fan breaking the silence. Vandana was sitting at her desk, a glass of water in front of her, but she didn’t look up as Arjun entered. Her back was stiff, her posture impeccable, and yet there was something in the air—something taut, like the calm before a storm.
“I was wondering when you would come,” she said without looking up, her voice even but laced with something that Arjun couldn’t quite place.
He closed the door behind him, his chest tight. “We need to talk.”
Vandana’s eyes met his, and for a split second, Arjun saw a flicker of something. Fear, maybe? Or was it regret?
“You’re getting closer than you should,” she said, her voice quieter now, a trace of warning in it. “I told you, some things are better left alone, Arjun.”
Arjun stepped forward, the floor creaking under his weight. “I’m not backing down. I know what happened to Devanand. I know about the secret you’re all hiding.”
Vandana’s lips tightened, but she said nothing.
“You’re part of it, aren’t you?” Arjun pressed. “You and everyone else here—you’re protecting something, a lie. What is it? What was Devanand trying to expose?”
Vandana stood, slowly, and walked over to the window, her back turned to him. Her voice was almost a whisper when she spoke. “You think you know what you’re dealing with, but you have no idea.”
Arjun felt a surge of frustration. “Then tell me, Vandana. Tell me what happened. Why did Devanand die? Why did you all bury his death?”
She didn’t turn around, but her next words were sharp, as if she had finally made up her mind. “Because if we hadn’t, everything would have unraveled. The truth is a dangerous thing, Arjun. The people involved in this—Devanand was just a small part of it. His death was the price of his knowledge. But you… you’re too close now. There’s no going back.”
“Who are these people? Why are you protecting them?” Arjun’s voice was nearly a growl.
Vandana finally turned, her eyes locking onto his with an intensity that took him by surprise. “The people who control the resort, who own it—they’re not just businessmen. They’ve been involved in the industry from the very beginning. The power they hold isn’t just in film. It’s in politics. In business. They make decisions that no one else can even imagine.”
Arjun’s stomach twisted. “So you’re telling me Devanand was right? The resort was built as a cover for these people?”
Vandana nodded slowly. “Yes. But it’s more than that. The resort was a place for them to meet in secret. A place to discuss and make decisions that shaped the future of the country. Devanand uncovered it. He got too close to the truth, and they had no choice but to eliminate him. His death wasn’t just to silence him—it was to protect something much bigger.”
Arjun’s breath caught in his throat. “And what’s the secret? What’s the thing that they want so badly to protect?”
Vandana’s eyes darkened. “The resort was the site of secret deals—deals that shaped the very foundation of Bollywood. The early moguls used this place to make sure they controlled the industry’s growth. They controlled who made it big and who disappeared into obscurity. But there was something else, something even darker—something tied to the government. Devanand discovered a connection between the resort and corrupt politicians, a system of bribery, blackmail, and power. He knew things that would have ruined everything for those in charge.”
Arjun’s mind was reeling. This was more than just a conspiracy within the film industry. This was about power, control, and the manipulation of an entire nation.
“And now you’re a part of it too,” Arjun said, his voice thick with disbelief. “You’ve been protecting these people.”
Vandana’s expression softened for a brief moment, the mask of composure slipping just slightly. “I didn’t have a choice, Arjun. No one does. They control everything. But you—you’re different. You don’t understand the kind of people you’re up against.”
Arjun’s eyes burned with determination. “I understand more than you think. And I’m not going to stop until I expose the truth.”
Vandana took a step back, her gaze hardening. “You don’t know what you’re getting into. If you continue down this path, they’ll come for you. And they won’t stop until you’re gone.”
For a moment, there was silence between them—thick, suffocating. But then Arjun spoke again, his voice low and unwavering.
“I’m not afraid.”
Vandana’s lips trembled, as though she were about to say something, but then she caught herself. With a final, almost sorrowful look, she turned away, walking back to her desk. “You’re already in too deep,” she whispered, almost to herself. “I hope you’re ready for the consequences.”
Arjun left the office with the heavy realization that his pursuit of the truth had just crossed a dangerous threshold. Vandana’s warnings lingered in his mind, but they only fueled his resolve. There was no turning back now. The truth was spiraling out of control, and Arjun had become its unwilling agent.
But the deeper he went, the more he realized—some secrets are not meant to be uncovered. And some truths are buried so deep that even the bravest souls are consumed by them.
The question now was: how much longer could he survive in the spiral before it consumed him too?
8
Arjun woke to an oppressive silence the following morning, the weight of his conversation with Vandana still heavy in his chest. It felt as though the very air in the resort had thickened overnight, thickened with dread, secrets, and unspoken truths. He couldn’t shake the image of Devanand’s face from his mind—the same piercing eyes staring back at him in every room, every shadow. They were watching him now, haunting him. The feeling was unmistakable: the actor’s ghost, long gone, still lingered, a presence more real than the fog that settled over the hills every morning. Arjun had been drawn into something far larger than he had ever anticipated. The deeper he dug, the more the truth seemed to slip away like grains of sand through his fingers. Yet, it was the only thing that mattered now. He had to finish what Devanand had started, no matter the cost.
With each passing hour, the walls of the resort seemed to grow smaller, closer, until Arjun felt suffocated. He walked through the hallways, his footsteps echoing unnervingly loud, as though the very structure of the building was trying to reveal something hidden. There was a place, a room at the far end of the resort, that had always been locked—no one had ever mentioned it, and no staff member had ever spoken of it. Today, something compelled him to find it. He knew, instinctively, that whatever lay behind that door would be the final piece he needed. Arjun navigated the dim corridors, heart pounding, each step a mixture of fear and anticipation. He found the door, hidden behind a thick tapestry, and with a sharp pull, he found it unlocked. The room inside was dark, filled with old furniture and dust, but the air felt colder than anything he’d felt before. His breath fogged in the air as he stepped inside, his senses heightened. On the far wall, a large wooden chest sat, its surface adorned with strange carvings that seemed to pulse in the dim light. It was unmistakable—the chest was the key to everything.
As he opened it, Arjun’s breath caught in his throat. Inside, scattered amongst old film reels and yellowed papers, was a leather-bound book, its cover cracked and worn. His hands trembled as he picked it up, and with each page he turned, the truth began to unfurl itself in front of him. It was Devanand’s journal—his final days, his final thoughts. The pages spoke of the conspiracy that Arjun had only begun to comprehend: the resort, the industry, the power players pulling the strings. Devanand had known it all. He had documented it, every detail, every name, every lie. There was a map in the back, a diagram showing secret passages beneath the resort, paths that connected to hidden rooms and vaults—the place where the final, damning evidence had been kept. But the last entry sent chills through Arjun: “They know. They are watching me. If I disappear, they will not stop until everything is erased. Find the truth, before it’s too late.” Arjun slammed the book shut, heart racing. He was too late. Someone had already found Devanand’s journal, and now, the hunt had truly begun.
9
Arjun’s mind raced as he held the journal in his hands, the weight of Devanand’s final words pressing down on him. The map, the secret passages beneath the resort—everything was beginning to fall into place, but the realization hit him like a punch to the gut: someone had been here before him. The journal, the final piece of the puzzle, had been hidden in the chest for a reason, and now it was in his hands. Devanand had known he was being watched. He had known that the truth he sought was a double-edged sword, capable of tearing apart everything it touched. Arjun couldn’t help but feel a creeping sense of inevitability, as if the moment he uncovered the journal, he had sealed his fate. Someone was coming for him. The question was not if—but when. He could already feel their presence, lurking in the corners of the resort, watching him, waiting for him to make his next move.
Determined not to let fear dictate his actions, Arjun carefully stowed the journal inside his jacket and made his way to the resort’s lower levels, where the hidden paths Devanand had marked on the map led. The corridors here were even older, the air thick with the musty scent of time and neglect. Each step felt like a betrayal of everything he had ever known. He was walking through history, a history buried in lies and blood, and he couldn’t help but wonder how many others had made this journey before him, only to disappear without a trace. The secret rooms, the vaults, the dark places Devanand had written about—they were waiting for him, beckoning with an urgency he couldn’t ignore. But with every turn, with every step deeper into the unknown, Arjun felt the weight of his own mortality pressing closer. He wasn’t just looking for answers anymore. He was running out of time. The passageways felt like a maze, and each corner seemed to lead him further into the heart of the resort’s twisted past.
Just as he reached the end of a particularly narrow passage, Arjun’s foot struck something hard beneath the dust. He knelt down quickly, his breath shallow, and brushed away the dirt to reveal a heavy iron door hidden in the floor. It was old, its edges rusted with age, but the lock was intact. A chill ran through him as he remembered the final note in Devanand’s journal: “Find the truth, before it’s too late.” His fingers trembled as he worked to unlock the door, the sound of the mechanism clicking echoing in the otherwise silent hall. The door creaked open, revealing a narrow staircase that spiraled down into total darkness. Arjun hesitated for a moment, but then he stepped inside, the cold air of the underground room sending a shiver down his spine. With each step down, he could feel the weight of the history buried beneath him. This was the moment—the moment he would either uncover the truth, or be swallowed by it. As he descended deeper, he heard a sound from above, faint but unmistakable: the echo of footsteps following him, close and deliberate. He wasn’t alone anymore. The hunters had found him.
10
