Mona might not have turned against her own parents but they pushed their luck too much when she was eighteen. First they gave her a birthday present that lifted her up to heaven and then came the tug to rude ugly reality.
She will never forget that day. Her father woke her up in the morning with a naughty wink in his eyes, “Come! Your birthday gift is waiting.”
The small plane took them out of Kolkata and after a couple of hour’s travelling landed in the runway of a palace, yes, palace.
Right when she was thinking that he was trying to get her married off to that palace’s owner or his son he dropped the bomb.
“Welcome to your ancestral home!” he grinned widely.
She came to know a little digging later that her father has snatched away the property from a dying family of royals, there were one or two left, a young girl and her mother, he bumped off the mother, got the girl married to one of his men, who bumped her off after a few years, in the mean time Singh trained one of his girls to play the role of the actual owner in her home, the role playing went perfectly.
Now the man who married the girl owns the property.