Vyansh hesitated after uttering this.

Vikrant scowled at him and was not impressed, as what Vyansh had told them up to this point was by no means an outrageous truth.

Vyansh, on seeing the glare of Vikrant, said, Are, wait! Wake up, do not get mad—there is yet the real suspense.

He then picked a file on the dashboard of the car and gave it to Vikrant.

"This file contains everything about Ishani," he said, looking at the road. "I found something... strange. Another Ishani Rawat is the one who had his photo in the file. Ishani Rawat was killed four months ago. Not only her but her whole family is dead as well.

Vyansh went on, and Vikrant tightened his grip on the file.

The strangest part is—both the girls have the same name, they attended the same college, they were in the same course, and they both graduated with hospitality management. However, when I got in touch with the college, they informed me that only one student by the name of Ishani Rawat had graduated from the college, and that was the dead one on the file.

There is not a trace of the Ishani whom you are acquainted with... that is less than four months old.

And this is the complete English version of your passage written in a natural and easy storytelling fashion:

Her life history had no history before that—no record of her presence in any part of India. Nobody knew where she lived or what she did, not even her family history. The results were even more puzzling when I somehow obtained information on the ID evidence of Eeshani registered in the registration office.

It turned out that Eeshani was only issued with her ID four months ago—just after another woman by the same name, Eeshani Rawat, had died.

But that's not all. I also learned that there was a mysterious uncle of hers, the one who paid her mother's hospital bills. Nobody knows who he was.

Vyansh took a moment and then went on, "Vikrant, when you hear of her dead father, your head will be totally blown."

Vyansh had just enough time to utter one more word when Vikrant, impatient enough to have already lit a cigarette, leaned back against the car seat, threw out a puff of smoke, and in an icy voice said, "Enough." I do not wish to hear any more of that girl. I'm not interested in her past. She will die anyway, I suppose; otherwise, I am right in my suspicions. And even when she is not the one I believe she is, then it makes no difference to me who she is. I don't care. Vikrant Singh Shekhawat does not even inquire about the history of anybody.

With that, Vikrant drew another deep puff of his cigarette. His mind was in chaos. He shut his eyes and resorted to smoking in an attempt to soothe himself.

So just at this moment Vyansh should recall something. As he drove on, he opined, Oh, I just forgot as I was driving, there is a grave issue in the company. Our shares—"

Vikrant interrupted him in good time, before he could get the rest of what he was saying, making another puff. Vyansh, now you are not the head of business. Whatever you want to say, tell me at the meeting.