The sun was just beginning to crest over the horizon, creating a golden glow on the river below.
Blood trickled from the cut on Ayesha’s palm as she clung to the rusted railing, the smell of iron heavy in the air. Below, in the river, water churned like an angry beast, ready to swallow her whole. Voices echoed behind her—low and menacing.
She never imagined that one simple word—yes—would lead her in such a dangerous situation.
Two Months Ago–At the Madras Cafe
“Ayesha! Look at you—still ruling the corporate jungle and enjoying life?”
That sounded like a familiar voice. Startled, She turned. Rohan stood there, grinning, arms open for a hug. Same mischievous eyes, same easy charm.
Rohan was her college classmate and a close friend. For the last ten years, Ayesha’s hectic work and travel schedule prevented them from connecting.
Ayesha worked for a multinational company and was the Chief Information Officer based in Chennai. She was well known in corporate circles and people respected her for her leadership and technical skills.
“Rohan Mehta. Ten years and you still sound like a movie dialogue machine,” Ayesha said, laughing as they hugged.
They slid into the cafe, grabbed a corner table and soon coffee and nostalgia flowed. The Cafe was small but lively with laughter and soft music weaving through the warm evening air.
“So,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially, “I’ve got something cooking. Big. Social impact, tech-driven, revolutionary stuff.” It’s going to be of tremendous use to mankind in their daily lives.
Ayesha raised an eyebrow. “Still chasing big dreams, huh?”
“Always,” he said with a wink. “We’re building a crowdsourced platform—empowering communities, driving real change. But here’s the thing—we need sharp brains. Strategic thinkers. People like you.”
She chuckled. “Me? I have hardly time to breathe. I’m swamped with my boss’s spreadsheets and travel plans.
“That’s exactly why you need this- said Rohan.
Just be an advisor. Casual. No heavy lifting. You just give us some ideas. We’ll do the grunt work.” You can just guide us as we progress.
His voice held the old charisma, the kind that previously inspired students to organize college events with no funding and no sleep. Ayesha felt her life was dull compared to him. She thought she wasn’t as active as he was and was working more on autopilot.
She sipped her cappuccino, shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”
One word. One yes. And her whole life shifted.
The Team and the First Cracks
At first, it was thrilling. Late-night brainstorming, vibrant discussions, a sense of purpose. The team seemed solid: Meera, the quiet coder. Prateek and Sameer, inseparable, always whispering about something. And then there was Kabir—smooth talker, charming as hell, the kind of guy who could make even a telemarketer feel important.
The project was called Udaan. Idealistic, right?
But very soon cracks began to show. Meetings without Ayesha. Messages going unanswered. She messaged Prateek and Sameer seeking information, yet they didn’t respond. Money—big money—flowing in from “investors” nobody could name.
One late evening, She walked into the office to pick up her laptop, which she had left behind by mistake. The place was dim, shadows stretching across the walls. She froze when she heard voices.
“If she backs out now, we’re screwed,” Prateek muttered.
“Keep her happy,” Rohan replied sharply. “We can’t afford to lose her and create trouble. There is some important work still to be completed.”
Ayesha’s stomach twisted. She realized that They’re talking about her. She slipped out quietly, her pulse hammering.
The Discovery
That night, she lay awake thinking about what she had heard and couldn’t sleep. She did what any paranoid consultant would do. She decided to start digging through all the files. Checked the shared folders, the financial spreadsheets, the transaction trails and all documents related to the project.
A chill ran through her hands when the numbers matched up. Shell companies. Fake invoices. Millions flowed via accounts raising obvious illegality flags. She knew she was trapped in a scam. She trusted her college mate but didn’t realize he’d exploit her skills illegally.
Laptop shut with a slam; her heart was racing. It was no longer a passion project. This was a massive fraud. She had never imagined it to be a scam. She believed Rohan, and she used her connections.
Ayesha’s phone buzzed as she was driving back from the market. A message from Rohan:
“Dinner tonight? Need to talk.”
Perfect. She felt this was the right moment to confront him and extract the truth.
The Face-Off
At the restaurant, Rohan looked as casual as ever, twirling his glass like a man without a care.
“So,” she said, shoving the printout across the table. She had taken prints of all the documents when she went through the files, “What the hell is this?” she demanded to know.
He glanced at the papers, then at her. No panic. Just… calm. Too calm.
“You weren’t supposed to see that,” he said softly.
“You used me, Rohan. My contacts. My name. For this—this money-laundering circus?”
He got closer, his quiet tone sending shivers down my spine.
Ayesha, this is more significant than you realize. Walk away now… and you might still be okay.”
“Might?” she whispered. “Are you threatening me, Rohan?””
He smiled. “No. I’m protecting you. Keep your distance from the unknown because problems could arise.
His tone made her uneasy.
The Trap
The next morning, she woke to a ping. Her bank app flashed: ₹25,00,000 credited.
“What the heck is this—” her throat went dry. She leaped from the bed.
Another ping. A message:
“Don’t try to be a hero.”
Calls started coming from unknown numbers. One voice was ice cold:
“Keep your mouth shut, or the cops will find your fingerprints on the money trail.”
She tried to scream but was mute. Her career and her life were in serious jeopardy. A simple yes to help her friend had gotten her in serious trouble and were almost derailing her career and her fame in the corporate world. That error alone would negate all her success earned through hard work.
By evening, another message:
“Meet us at the old textile mill. 9 PM. Alone.”
Her hands shook as she typed back: Okay. What else could I do?
The Mill–And the Knife
The mill was a skeleton of rust and decay, every creak of metal echoing like a death knell. Rohan stood there, flanked by Prateek and Sameer.
“Ayesha,” he said softly. “You should’ve trusted me.”
“I’m out,” she said, voice trembling but steady. “Erase my name. Delete everything.”
He chuckled, stepping closer. “Too late for that. You’re in this as deep as we are. Unless…”
Her eyes flicked to Sameer, who pulled something from his pocket—a glint of steel under the flickering light.
Her blood froze. “Rohan, don’t—”
“You could’ve had it all,” he said softly. “But you had to play hero.”
The Rescue
“Drop it.”
The voice cracked like a whip. Kabir appeared out of the shadows, gun raised, jaw tight.
What? My brain stuttered. Kabir?
Behind him, men in black tactical gear stormed in, weapons drawn. The mill descended into chaos.
“Kabir, what—?” My words stumbled out as he yanked me behind him.
“Undercover,” he said, eyes never leaving Rohan. “Cybercrime unit. Been tracking them for months.”
Rohan snarled. “You son of a—”
“Save it for court,” Kabir snapped as the officers cuffed him.
Ayesha stood still, adrenaline coursing through her, feeling Rohan’s piercing glare.
Aftermath
Hours later, she sat in a quiet office, a cup of lukewarm tea trembling in her hands. Kabir walked in, no gun now, just that same calm smile.
“You’re clear,” he said gently. “We’ll testify that you cooperated.”
She exhaled hard, a laugh bubbling up—a shaky, hysterical thing. “Kabir… you could’ve told me!”
He grinned. “Couldn’t risk it. But hey… you said yes. And it saved lives.”
Her eyes were fixed on him. “You mean… if I hadn’t joined—”
“They’d still be running wild,” he said simply, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Your yes was the bait we needed.”
She almost felt like punching him in the face. She could never have imagined this.
As she walked out into the gray dawn, his voice followed her:
“We might need your help again, Ayesha.”
She didn’t look back. She just kept walking, her mind a storm of questions, fear, and something else—a flicker of purpose.
Because one thing was certain: a simple yes had changed everything.
React
