While Vikram Das was meticulously observing the golden idol of the goddess, a strange silence slowly descended over the crowd. Hundreds of eyes bore into his every movement as if he were unraveling a divine mystery with each breath.
The way his fingers traced the contours of the idol, the way his gaze lingered thoughtfully at the green diamond nestled in the crown—it was as though time itself had slowed down for him.
Pratap Rajput narrowed his eyes, a quiet anticipation building in his chest. Even the usually talkative elders of the antique market leaned forward unconsciously, captivated.
But the quiet didn't last long. A shrill voice suddenly pierced the tension. "Wait a minute... isn't he that criminal? The one who married into the Frost family?" someone shouted from the back. Murmurs followed immediately.
"Oh my God! Yes, that's him! That useless fellow who married Lily Frost! I can't believe we didn't recognize him earlier."
