The long-awaited return journey from Goa turned into an even filthier chapter for the Rathore family. At the resort reception, the news hit like a spark to dry tinder: their flight tickets had been cancelled due to a sudden technical glitch at the airline counter overbooking, system failure, whatever the hell the manager mumbled. Rajesh didn’t waste a second arguing. “Fuck the plane. We’re driving back to Aurangabad . Two days on the road, but we’ll make it worth every kilometre.”

He booked the most expensive private luxury SUV available a sleek black Mercedes V-Class with a full privacy partition. Tinted windows all around, soundproof divider between the driver’s cabin and the massive rear compartment that was basically a moving lounge: leather reclining seats that folded flat into a king-sized bed, mini-bar, AC controls, and most importantly, a thick, opaque partition that could be locked from the inside. The driver was a professional chauffeur who would stay up front the entire time, separated completely. No eyes, no ears, no disturbance. Perfect for what the three men had planned.