Red Roses & Blackmails
"Behind every rose lies a secret... and a price."
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Chapter One: A Red Rose at Her Doorstep
It started on a fog-kissed February morning in Mumbai. The city was waking up slowly under a sleepy sun. For Anaya Sharma, an ambitious investigative journalist, it was just another routine day—until she opened her front door.
A single red rose, perfectly fresh, dew still clinging to its petals, sat on the doormat with a crisp white note tied to its stem:
> “Some truths should never be uncovered. Walk away, Anaya.”
Chills crawled up her spine. Her breath hitched. This wasn’t admiration. It was a warning.
She looked around—no sign of anyone. Just the usual bustle of her apartment block.
But deep down, she knew exactly what this was about.
She had been working undercover on Project Crimson, a covert story unraveling the dark underbelly of high-society politics, elite corruption, and a mysterious suicide of a top model that no one wanted to talk about. The deeper she dug, the more dangerous it got. And now—this.
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Chapter Two: The Masked Stranger
That night, as Anaya scrolled through her encrypted files, her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A message popped up:
“You’re trespassing. One more step and your past becomes public.”
Attached was a photograph—a candid shot of Anaya kissing Rishaan Malhotra, a secret from her college days she’d buried long ago.
Heart pounding, she called her tech friend Zara. “I’m being watched. Someone knows everything.”
Within minutes, Zara traced the IP: masked, bouncing through VPNs in three different countries.
Whoever this was, they weren’t amateurs.
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Chapter Three: Red Roses Keep Coming
Over the next few days, a red rose appeared everywhere Anaya went.
At her desk in the newsroom.
On the passenger seat of her locked car.
Inside her favorite coffee mug at the studio.
Always with a new note:
> “We’re watching.”
“Stop the article.”
“Truth is fatal.”
But Anaya wasn’t one to give up. Not now. Not after discovering that the suicide of the model was actually a murder, and that the victim had been blackmailed using intimate photos.
The deeper she went, the clearer the pattern: every victim had received red roses before their downfall. It wasn’t just a symbol. It was a signature.
And the blackmailer? They called themselves The Florist.
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Chapter Four: The Love That Returns
Enter Rishaan Malhotra.
Anaya hadn’t seen him in eight years. But now, he showed up unannounced—older, sharper, but with the same soul-stirring eyes.
“I heard about the threats. You’re in over your head.”
“I can handle it,” she snapped. “You left. You don’t get to care now.”
“I didn’t leave by choice.”
The silence was heavy.
Turns out, Rishaan had been working in cybersecurity with INTERPOL. And The Florist was their top ghost target—a blackmailer with international connections, manipulating people into silence with threats and emotional destruction.
Their reunion wasn’t romantic. It was a high-voltage alliance forged in fear and fire.
Together, they began to trace patterns, decode messages hidden inside the rose notes, and pull files from the dark web.
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Chapter Five: Thorns Draw Blood
Then came the ultimate betrayal.
Zara, Anaya’s trusted friend, was the inside mole. Not The Florist—but helping them. They had blackmailed her into compliance after threatening her family.
Everything fell apart.
The newsroom was hacked. Anaya’s edited footage disappeared. Her article was locked out of the system. And a deepfake video of her was sent to every major media house—accusing her of taking bribes.
She was publicly humiliated and suspended.
Alone. Cornered. Broken.
But she wasn’t done.
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Chapter Six: Petals & Revenge
With Rishaan’s help, Anaya went rogue. They planted a decoy—a fake expose on a corporate scandal. As expected, The Florist took the bait.
Through a backdoor virus planted in the fake documents, they traced the IP to a luxury villa in Alibaug.
Midnight. Rain. Thunder crashing.
They broke in.
Inside, a wall full of photos, red strings, newspaper clippings—The Florist had been watching dozens of targets for years. And in the center: Anaya, circled in red.
A masked figure stepped out. Voice distorted. “You could’ve had fame, Anaya. I offered you silence. You chose chaos.”
Anaya aimed her phone camera. “And you chose fear. Now the world will know your name.”
Rishaan tackled the figure. A scuffle broke out. A gun fired.
Silence.
The Florist was arrested. Their real name: Kabir Verma, ex-journalist turned dark web extortionist.
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Epilogue: Red Roses Bloom Again
Weeks later, Anaya stood on the rooftop of her office as the sun painted the sky gold.
Her article—“The Red Rose Blackmailer”—was the most read piece in India that year. She had her job, her dignity, and her voice back.
As she sipped her coffee, a breeze fluttered past.
And sitting on her desk...
Was a red rose.
No note.
Just a rose.
She smiled. Rishaan stepped into view, holding two mugs. “You still like surprises?”
Anaya nodded.
“Let this be the last red rose in your story,” he said. “From now on, no secrets. Only truth.”
And together, they watched the city below—no longer afraid of shadows.
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