Chapter 126: Chapter 126
George sat in a closed room.
He did not look as calm as before.
His shirt was neat. His hair was still set properly. But his eyes had changed. There was a restless look in them now, the kind that came when a man had been pushed too many times and still did not know where the attack was coming from.
Two men stood in front of him. One of them placed a file on the table.
"We checked what you asked us to check," the man said.
George looked at him.
"Speak."
The man opened the file.
"The person who called you is still hidden. We tried to follow the description and the route you gave us, but we found nothing solid."
George’s fingers tightened on the arm of the chair.
He had expected at least a name.
Even a false name would have been something. Even a direction would have been enough for him to start crushing people until one of them spoke.
But nothing solid meant he was still standing in fog.
The man continued, "But the people who attacked you are connected to an underworld organization."
George’s eyes changed.
"Underworld?"
"Yes," the man said. "A known one, and not small."
George became silent.
That answer made no sense to him.
’Why would an underworld organization come after me?’ George thought. ’Is that caller linked to them?’
His anger rose again.
The man seemed to understand what he was thinking.
"We do not have proof that the caller and that organization are the same side," he said. "But it is possible. The caller may be connected to them, and the attack on you may have come through that route."
George’s jaw tightened.
That answer did not satisfy him.
It only gave him more questions.
If the caller was connected to an underworld organization, then why had he hidden behind police information? And if the underworld attack was separate, then why had both problems appeared around the same time?
George could not accept coincidence anymore.
The second man spoke this time.
"There is one link that touches your side directly."
George looked at him.
"Who?"
"Rovan," the man said. "The police officer."
The moment George heard the name, the anger he had been holding back broke through his face.
Rovan.
That name had appeared again and again.
Information had moved through him. The police angle had started from him. And now, when George looked back, too many things pointed toward that one weak link.
George slammed his hand on the table.
"Catch that bastard," he said.
The men did not move for a second.
George stood up.
"I need answers."
His voice dropped lower.
"Bring him to me."
The two men lowered their heads and left the room.
After that, George stayed standing beside the table.
He was breathing harder than before.
He had lost face and control. Someone had used too many sides against him, and he still did not know the full shape of the enemy.
That made him feel more desperate than he wanted to admit.
George hated that feeling.
He was used to being the person who made others nervous. He was used to people lowering their voices when his name entered a room. But now he was the one asking questions without answers.
That made his anger worse.
Soon, George’s men began watching Rovan’s movements.
Rovan did not know that.
For the last few days, things around him had become strangely quiet.
At first, that quiet made him feel safe.
He sat in his car that evening and let out a slow breath.
"This is how life should have been," he muttered.
The street outside was quiet too.
That quiet made him relax a little more than he should have.
Rovan had spent the last few days looking over his shoulder. Every call made him nervous. Every unknown face near the police station made him think someone had come for him.
Today, for the first time, nothing had happened.
Before all of this, his life had been comfortable.
He had money and influence. He had seniors above him, but he also had people who came to him when they needed dirty work handled.
He had lived in that space for years.
He was not too high and not too low. He was useful enough to earn without standing in the brightest light.
But now everything had changed.
His seniors were watching him.
The mystery man who had given him instructions was somewhere in the dark.
George and the people around George had stopped trusting him.
Everyone he could have worked for had either left him or started looking at him like a problem.
Rovan rubbed his forehead.
"Damn it," he whispered. "I should have never touched this."
His phone stayed on the seat beside him.
For a moment, he thought about calling one of his old contacts. Then he stopped himself.
Who would answer now?
The people who used to call him first were now avoiding him. The people above him wanted answers. The people below him were waiting to see if he would fall.
Rovan gripped the steering wheel harder.
He started the car and moved out slowly.
The road was not crowded.
That was why the first vehicle looked strange when it came across his path.
It did not stop like a normal car.
It cut in front of him and blocked the road.
He had barely driven a short distance when a vehicle moved in front of his car and blocked the way.
Rovan hit the brake.
"What the..."
Before he could reverse, another vehicle stopped behind him.
Men stepped out.
Rovan’s eyes widened.
He reached for the lock, but one of the men had already pulled the door open from the outside.
"Who are you?" Rovan shouted.
No one answered.
He tried to push the man away, but another hand grabbed his shoulder.
Something was pressed near his nose.
A sharp smell entered his head.
Rovan tried to turn his face away.
"Wait, please..."
