Daniel Carter and Olivia Carter have been married for eight years, residing in a quiet neighborhood in Delhi. Daniel Carter works as civil engineer and often travels to Rajasthan or Gujarat for several days at a time.
Olivia Carter runs an online store, cares for their third-grade son, and manages household duties. To the neighbors, they appear to be the ideal couple. But for Daniel Carter, cracks have recently begun to appear in the relationship.
Whenever he returns from a business trip, Daniel Carter notices Olivia Carter holding a damp towel, either quickly hiding it in the cupboard or washing it right away.
At first, he assumed she had just bathed. But after three months, his doubts began to grow again.
One evening, Daniel Carter arrived home earlier than expected. Moving quietly, he saw Olivia Carter step out of the bathroom with wet hair, a pale face, and the same towel in her hands. Her eyes held a flicker of anxiety as she forced a smile:
— “You’re back… I was just washing towels.”
Daniel Carter stayed silent, but that night he couldn’t sleep. By morning, he had set up a small camera aimed at the living room and bathroom.
For three days, nothing unusual happened. On the fourth day, while in Jaipur, he heard a notification on his phone. When he checked the camera feed, his pulse quickened.
On-screen, Olivia Carter was mopping the floor, glancing repeatedly at the door. Fifteen minutes later, a man in a white shirt and black trousers entered, carrying a bag. They exchanged warm smiles—one Daniel Carter hadn’t seen from her in a long while.
They spoke briefly, and Olivia Carter led him toward the bathroom.
At home, unfamiliar shoes sat outside the bathroom. Opening the door, Daniel Carter found Olivia Carter in a bathrobe, hair damp, while the man held a hair dryer.
— “What is going on?” Daniel Carter demanded.
Olivia Carter flinched:
— “This is Michael Harris, the massage therapist. I’ve had back pain for months…”
But when Daniel Carter checked Michael Harris’s bag, alongside massage oil was a thick envelope containing papers with a red seal—a copy of his family’s land deed in Lucknow.
Sh0cked, Daniel Carter asked:
— “Why are my family’s land papers here?”
Michael Harris hesitated, and Olivia Carter burst into tears:
— “I didn’t mean to hide this… I learned someone in your family is secretly selling the land. Michael Harris… is your stepbrother.”
Daniel Carter stood frozen. Michael Harris explained:
— “My father left me that land before he passed away. But my stepmother is altering the documents to sell it. Olivia Carter found out from a friend at the land registry. She asked me to pose as a massage therapist to deliver the papers safely.”
Just then, the doorbell rang. It was Daniel Carter’s stepmother, Victoria Hayes, with two strangers. She walked in, eyes calculating:
— “I know you have the papers. Hand them over, or else…”
Daniel Carter stood protectively in front of Olivia Carter:
— “Or else what? This is my father’s property. I’ll take it to court.”
Savitri’s smirk faltered when she saw Michael Harris. He stepped forward:
— “Mother, I’ve been silent too long. From today, everything will be exposed.”
The air grew tense. Daniel Carter realized those wet towels weren’t signs of betrayal—they were signals of a family war brewing in his own home.
That evening, under Victoria Hayes’s “emergency family meeting” request, they collected in the grand dining room of the Sharma mansion in Delhi. The table was full of delicacies—but no one ate. The heavy air made even the sound of spoons deafening.
At the head sat Savitri in a red sari, face heavily made-up, watching them like prey.
— “We’re here tonight to resolve any misunderstandings…” she said softly, though her eyes glinted with menace.
Daniel Carter tapped the table:
— “Misunderstanding? Forging my father’s land sale documents is what you call a misunderstanding?”
With a mocking tilt, Savitri replied:
— “It’s family property. I want to settle matters before it’s too late.”
Olivia Carter shot back:
— “Too late for what, Mother? For your husband’s ille:gitimate son, or the debts you’re hiding?”
Clutching her gold bracelet, Savitri hissed:
— “Who are you to interfere?”
Michael Harris rose:
— “She’s the daughter-in-law who saved us from ruin. Mother, the Lucknow land was left by Father for Daniel Carter, but you erased his name from the records.”
Savitri slammed the table:
— “Shut up! You’re half-blood, never recognized—what right do you have?”
Daniel Carter’s gaze narrowed:
— “So, Michael Harris is my stepbrother?”
Michael Harris nodded:
— “Father told my mother before he passed away. But for pride, your mother drove us from Delhi. Father still sent money until his sudden de.ath.”
Olivia Carter took out documents:
— “Proof Savitri borrowed from a Jaipur businessman and planned to repay with Daniel Carter’s land. Without intervention, it would be gone.”
An uncle asked gravely:
— “Savitri, is this true?”
Savitri snapped:
— “I did it to protect the family! That money would have kept this house so none of you ended up on the street!”
Daniel Carter leaned in:
— “Protecting the family by lying to Father, hiding his son, and deceiving me? Ironic.”
Silence. Michael Harris placed a hand on Daniel Carter’s shoulder:
— “Father trusted you to guard that land. Now we must protect the truth together.”
Olivia Carter’s voice was firm:
— “Tomorrow, we’ll submit the papers to court. If you care for the family’s honor, stay here.”
Savitri smiled coldly, standing:
— “You think you’ve won? This war isn’t over.”
She left, leaving behind the stench of conspiracy. Daniel Carter knew the battle had just begun.
Three days later, Daniel Carter, Olivia Carter, and Michael Harris received a letter summoning them to a “reconciliation session” at the Sharma family’s law office. Officially stamped, it carried an unusual urgency.
Olivia Carter frowned:
— “This is too soon. Something’s off.”
Michael Harris said:
— “If we refuse, she could claim we’re avoiding legal talks. We’ll go, but cautiously.”
They arrived at a grand building in central Delhi. On the tenth floor, Savitri sat waiting in a green sari, her smile deceptively sweet:
— “Good. Let’s end this peacefully today.”
Daniel Carter crossed his arms:
— “Only if you return the land papers.”
She nodded:
— “Of course. I have them…”
But before Daniel Carter could take the file, two men in black locked the door.
Olivia Carter’s eyes widened:
— “What’s happening?”
Savitri’s smile disappeared:
— “Did you think I wouldn’t act? Since Michael Harris’s return, I know you’ve been digging into my past. Today, I’ll erase you.”
Michael Harris challenged:
— “You wouldn’t dare in broad daylight!”
She laughed:
— “Daytime is perfect—no one will spot. When you’re found, it’ll look like an accident.”
A bodyguard placed a bottle of pungent liquid on the table.
Daniel Carter shielded Olivia Carter:
— “This is murder!”
Savitri glared:
— “I’m protecting the family. I won’t let you ru:in it.”
As the bodyguard advanced, Michael Harris hurled a chair, clearing a path. Olivia Carter began recording:
— “Mother Savitri, everything you’ve said is on video!”
Savitri sneered:
— “I can delete it.”
Suddenly, the door burst open. Police entered, led by Detective James Walker—Daniel Carter’s college friend.
— “Victoria Hayes, you’re under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder and fraud.”
Sh0cked, she exclaimed:
— “You trapped me?!”
Michael Harris’s tone was icy:
— “No. You trapped yourself.”
Olivia Carter’s phone showed an active video call to Vikram since they’d arrived, broadcasting everything.
Savitri hissed:
— “This isn’t over. I still have cards to play…”
As she was handcuffed, Daniel Carter, Olivia Carter, and Michael Harris knew—the family war had only just started.
