Chapter 0029: Beneath the Ashes
Zara sat on the floor of her hotel suite, surrounded by open files, Mina's diary, and Ryan's laptop. The city lights blinked through the window behind her, but her eyes were fixed on one thing—the contract. The one that proved her father's hand in the silent corruption that had stolen Mina's life.
Ryan paced behind her, frustration simmering. "We have enough to blow this open. Publicly. Press conference, media leak, hell—we can file a case tomorrow."
But Zara remained still, her voice low. "That's not enough."
Ryan paused. "What do you mean?"
She looked up, eyes fierce. "If I go to the media, they'll bury it. They'll twist it. Call it revenge, hysteria, a daughter lashing out. But if I dismantle the foundation from within—if I take control—I can erase their influence. Expose the rot. Rebuild it the right way."
Ryan knelt in front of her, admiration softening his features. "That's dangerous."
Zara nodded. "So is silence."
The next morning, Zara entered the Baig Foundation's main boardroom like a storm in heels. The directors—family friends, old allies of her father, polite smiles masking wary eyes—fell silent.
"I'm assuming control of the Foundation, effective immediately," she announced.
A stunned pause. Then Mr. Kazmi, one of the oldest board members, cleared his throat. "Zara beta, that's not how things work. Your father—"
"My father is being investigated," she cut in. "And until this board cooperates fully, I have enough evidence to freeze every account linked to this organization."
Gasps echoed. Whispers buzzed like flies.
She dropped copies of the incriminating documents onto the table.
"This ends today," she said. "No more blood-stained charity. We clean house—or I burn it down."
Later that night, Zara and Ryan stood on the rooftop of their hotel, watching the city breathe below.
"You think they'll step down?" he asked.
"They already have," she replied. "And the media doesn't know it yet, but they're about to get a new story. One not about a scandal—but about justice."
Ryan took her hand. "Mina would've been proud."
Zara looked out at Lahore—her city, her battlefield, her home.
"No," she whispered. "She is proud. And we're not done yet."
Because beneath the ashes of betrayal, something new was rising.
And Zara Baig was done running.
The quiet knock on Zara's hotel room door came just after midnight. Ryan, already on edge after the day's power shift, moved instinctively toward it.
"I'll check," he said, sliding his hand behind his back where his licensed pistol rested.
Zara nodded, stepping aside. He opened the door cautiously—only to find a young woman standing in the hallway. Mid-twenties. Nervous eyes. A manila envelope clutched tightly to her chest.
"I need to speak with Zara Baig," she whispered.
Zara stepped forward. "That's me."
The woman hesitated. "I used to work for your father. I was Mina's friend."
Zara's breath caught. "Come in."
The woman introduced herself as Hania, a former financial assistant at the Baig Foundation. She sat down carefully, her fingers trembling as she placed the envelope on the table between them.
"I never had the courage to speak. I thought… I thought Mina's death would silence everything. But when I saw your press statement yesterday, I knew I couldn't stay quiet anymore."
She opened the envelope. Inside were ledgers, receipts, voice recordings—documents even Zara hadn't seen.
"These show direct transactions from the Foundation's accounts… to offshore holdings. Some under fake NGOs. Some under aliases—one of them in your father's own handwriting."
Ryan's face darkened. "This is deeper than we thought."
Hania nodded. "And there's more. Mina… she was gathering this. She wanted to go public. That's why she died."
Zara swallowed the lump rising in her throat. "Why didn't you come forward before?"
"Because I was threatened." Hania looked at her with haunted eyes. "By someone you still trust."
Zara's world tilted. "Who?"
Hania looked down. "Dr. Irfan. Your father's old advisor. He's not just complicit—he's orchestrating what's left of the cover-up. He's still operating behind the scenes."
The room fell silent.
Ryan cursed under his breath.
Zara stood up, fists clenched. "Then we expose him next."
But Hania grabbed her wrist. "He's not just dangerous. He's connected. If you go after him, you'll need more than truth. You'll need protection, leverage—backup."
Zara stared at the documents. A web of lies, slowly unraveling. And somewhere within it, the final answers.
"Then we find it," she said. "No matter the cost."
As Hania left, Ryan placed a steady hand on Zara's shoulder.
"You sure you're ready for this?"
Zara nodded. "I've come too far to turn back now. Mina deserves the truth. And I'll bring it into the light—even if it burns."
Outside, a storm gathered.
But inside, Zara's resolve had never been clearer.
The morning sun broke over Lahore, casting golden hues across the skyline. But inside Zara's suite at the Pearl Continental, shadows lingered. The revelations from Hania had lit a fire in her soul, but it was one laced with dread. Dr. Irfan—her father's trusted advisor, the man who had once read her bedtime stories—was the architect of their darkest truths?
Ryan poured her a cup of chai. "We strike now, or he'll sense we're closing in."
Zara took a slow sip, her hands wrapped tightly around the cup. "He's smart. Cautious. If we make a single wrong move, he'll vanish."
"So what's the plan?"
"We lure him in—with something he can't resist."
By noon, Zara sat in the boardroom of the old Baig Foundation office. She had requested a private meeting with Dr. Irfan under the guise of a public reconciliation press release. The bait was simple: she claimed she wanted to reinstate his advisory role for the sake of 'public unity'.
He arrived right on time.
Elegant. Poised. And wearing the same calm smile he'd worn at her mother's funeral.
"Zara," he greeted, his voice warm. "This brings me hope. Your father would be proud."
She managed a strained smile. "That's what I want—for his legacy to be remembered well."
He took the seat across from her, folding his hands on the table.
Zara slid a folder toward him—empty inside, but convincing enough.
"I need your insight again. Your counsel. This city still listens to you."
Dr. Irfan opened the folder and peered inside, his expression unreadable.
"You've matured," he said, voice low. "But you've also become... dangerous."
Zara's eyes narrowed. "Why do you say that?"
He leaned back in his chair, the pretense fading. "Because only a fool would try to corner a man like me without knowing the cost."
The room's atmosphere shifted.
"You knew about the accounts," she said softly. "The NGOs. Mina's death."
He chuckled. "Mina was idealistic. She believed the world could be fixed with good intentions. But people like your father knew better. We built something powerful."
Zara's heart pounded, but she didn't flinch. "You killed her."
"No," he said. "But I didn't stop it either."
Before Zara could respond, the door burst open. Ryan rushed in, breathless, holding his phone.
"You need to see this—now!"
Zara grabbed the phone. On the screen was a live broadcast from a local news channel.
A journalist stood outside the Lahore courthouse. "Breaking news: Confidential financial records linked to the Baig Foundation have been leaked anonymously—implicating multiple senior advisors in offshore laundering."
Zara's mouth fell open.
Dr. Irfan's face darkened.
"You did this?" he growled.
Zara shook her head slowly. "No. I was going to—but someone beat me to it."
His phone buzzed violently. He didn't answer.
Then, a single word flashed on Zara's screen—sent from an unknown number:
"Round one."
She looked up sharply.
Someone else was playing this game.
And they were one step ahead.
Rain fell over Lahore with a rhythm that echoed tension—soft, steady, relentless. Inside the hotel room, Zara sat cross-legged on the floor, her laptop open, eyes scanning through the rapidly spreading news.
The leak was real.
The media frenzy had begun. Reporters camped outside the Baig Foundation's office, demanding answers. Multiple high-profile names had already been suspended pending investigation, and Dr. Irfan had gone underground.
But none of that explained the message.
"Round one."
Zara replayed that moment in her mind, over and over. Someone had leaked the documents—but who? And why now?
Ryan paced behind her. "We need to find out who's helping us before we start trusting them."
Zara nodded. "Or before they expect something in return."
Later that night, her phone buzzed again. Same number. No name.
"You started the storm. I just turned it into a hurricane. We have the same enemy. Meet me. Alone. Tomorrow. 9 PM. Shalimar Gardens. Red lantern."
Ryan read over her shoulder. "Sounds like a trap."
"Or a chance," she murmured.
9 PM – Shalimar Gardens
The gardens were eerily quiet. The rain had stopped, but the scent of damp earth hung in the air. Zara walked past the main pavilion, her eyes scanning the ancient arches, the flickering lanterns, the dancing shadows.
Then she saw it—a red lantern hanging beside a stone bench near the fountains.
And someone standing beneath it.
A woman. Hooded. Still.
"You came," the woman said, her voice smooth but guarded.
Zara stopped several feet away. "Are you the one who leaked the files?"
"Yes," the woman replied. "And no. I found them. You inspired me to act."
Zara frowned. "Who are you?"
The hood lowered slowly. The woman's face was young—early thirties maybe—but her eyes had the weight of survival. Pain. Fury.
"My name is Amal. I worked for your father."
Zara's breath caught.
"I believed in his mission, until I saw what it became. I stayed silent… too long. But when you returned, when you started asking questions, it lit something in me. I found the files hidden in a proxy server Dr. Irfan used."
"Why didn't you come to me directly?"
"Because I didn't know if I could trust you. I still don't. But I trust your intentions more than his lies."
Zara stepped closer. "What do you want?"
"To bring them down—all of them. But I need your access, your voice. I have more. Documents. Videos. A full trail."
Zara hesitated. "This could destroy what's left of the foundation."
Amal's eyes were sharp. "Then maybe it deserves to be destroyed… so something honest can rise in its place."
Zara nodded slowly. The war had started with shadows and whispers. But now it was fire and storm.
And she had just found a new weapon.
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(To be Continue...)