Hello guys,

Sorry for the late updates, I have been busy with my brother's wedding that's why I couldn't upload a new chapter. But I'll try from now on to upload regularly.

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𝗔 𝗔 𝗗 𝗛 𝗬 𝗔

"This is not good for you, Ms. Raichand. Stop trying to prove me dirty. You are digging your own grave, as well as that of your loved ones. Remember that!"

I crumpled the paper in my hand—the so-called threat—and tossed it into the wastebasket, the only place where it rightfully belonged. A smirk tugged at my lips. The Honourable Home Minister of Maharashtra was afraid of me. Me—a journalist. And instead of facing me, he was resorting to anonymous threats. Pathetic.

"Are you not afraid, Aadhya?" my colleague and cameraman, Ajit, asked, his voice laced with concern.

"Why should I be?" I arched an eyebrow at him, genuinely curious.

We were seated in our cramped yet functional cabin at the Daily News headquarters, fresh from an exclusive coverage. The office buzzed around us—phones ringing, reporters typing frantically, editors yelling across the room. Unlike some media houses that acted as mouthpieces for the government, Daily News prided itself on being the voice of the people. And I, as one of its leading journalists, took that responsibility seriously.

Ajit leaned back in his chair, rubbing his tired eyes. “Because he is the Home Minister, and you are just a journalist.”

"Exactly!" I shot back. "Why should I be afraid of a corrupt bastard when my job is to uncover the truth and bring it to the people?"

"For that, you need to stay alive first," he retorted dryly.

His sarcasm wasn’t lost on me, but I wasn’t going to back down. I crossed my arms. “So, you’re saying I should stop investigating the man who is supplying drugs to our society? The same man who is behind the kidnapping and trafficking of innocent girls across borders?” My voice sharpened with anger.

Ajit exhaled heavily and ran a hand through his unkempt hair. "Look, Aadhya, I'm not saying you should stop. I'm just saying you should be careful. You’re playing with fire."

“I’m going to burn him to the ground,” I muttered under my breath, more to myself than to him. “So badly that no one will dare commit a crime like this again.”

Ajit groaned, standing up. “I don’t have the energy to argue with you right now. I haven’t slept in two days. I’m going home, and unless it’s an emergency, don’t call me.”

I watched him grab his bag and head toward the door, understanding his exhaustion. Working in the media wasn’t as glamorous as the movies made it seem. It was brutal, exhausting, and sometimes dangerous. But that’s what made it worth it.

Sighing, I got up to make myself a strong coffee before finishing my report. The Home Minister thought a threat would silence me. He had no idea who he was dealing with.

Tonight, I would finish my report. Tomorrow, I would expose him.

And nothing—not his power, not his threats, not even death—would stop me.

♡

It was past 1 AM when I finally reached home. The streets were eerily quiet, the city lights casting long shadows on the pavement. As I stepped out of my car, I sighed at the sight in front of me—Maa and Bhai, standing outside, waiting for me.

Shaking my head at their stubbornness, I walked toward them.

"Maa, what is this? I’ve told you a thousand times not to wait for me when I’m late from work. It’s not good for your health," I said, side-hugging her as we entered the house.

"You know I can’t sleep until I’m sure you’re home safe and have had dinner." Maa’s voice carried both love and reproach. "More than that, I barely get time with my children anymore. I long for you both. Sitting here alone makes me anxious about your whereabouts. What can I do if my own children don’t care enough to spare some time for their mother?"

She gently removed my arm from her shoulder, making her displeasure evident. I looked at Bhai, raising an eyebrow, but he simply shrugged, as if saying you handle this.

"Oh, Mumma… my sweet Mumma," I cooed, trying to console her. "I’m sorry for not giving you enough time. But you know I love you the most, right?"

Nudging my brother, I gave him a look that said do something!

"Yes, Maa, we’re really sorry," Bhai added, playing along. "How about we make it up to you with a picnic this Sunday?"

Maa's face lit up instantly. "But first, we go to the temple," she declared, already making plans in her head.

Bhai and I exchanged amused glances before replying in unison, "As you say, Maa."

"Now go freshen up. I’ll serve dinner," she instructed, heading to the kitchen.

It was then that I noticed Bhai was still in his business suit. Did he just get home too? But before I could ask, he disappeared into his room.

After washing my hands, I joined them at the dinner table. The warm aroma of Maa’s home-cooked food filled the air, easing away the exhaustion of the day.

♡

Later, after bidding Maa goodnight, I stepped into my room and took a quick shower, changing into my usual nightwear—an oversized T-shirt and shorts. Yet, no matter how tired I was, sleep refused to come. My mind kept drifting back to the threat letter, to the Home Minister’s warning, and most of all—to something, or rather someone, from my past.

A soft knock on my door pulled me out of my thoughts.

"Yes?" I called out.

The door creaked open, and Bhai entered, holding a tub of chocolate ice cream.

I smiled. He knows me too well.

"I figured you wouldn’t be able to sleep," he said, sitting on my bed and handing me the tub.

Happily, I took it. "It’s been ages since we had our ice cream nights, right, Bhai?"

"Yeah. And it’s been years, and you still don’t know how to eat ice cream without getting it all over your face," he teased, reaching out with a tissue to wipe a smudge off my cheek.

Sheepishly, I grinned and stuffed another spoonful into my mouth. Heaven.

After eating a good portion, I handed the tub back to him. He placed it on the nightstand before turning to me. I rested my head on his shoulder, and he absentmindedly traced his fingers through my hair—a familiar comfort from our childhood.

"So, how’s life?" he asked after a moment.

I sighed. "Pretty hectic, actually. You know I’m currently investigating the Home Minister, right?"

Bhai hummed in acknowledgment, waiting for me to continue.

"Well, today, he sent me a threat letter."

His grip on my hair tightened slightly, but he remained silent, listening.

"I’m so proud of you," he finally said, his voice soft yet firm. "But please, Aadhya, be careful. We already lost Papa… I can’t risk losing you too."

He pressed a kiss to my forehead, and I closed my eyes for a brief second, letting his warmth ease the tension inside me.

Feigning lightness, I looked up at him and smirked. "Why should I be afraid when I have the devil himself at my service?"

Bhai shook his head, exasperated but amused. "Should I assign you more bodyguards?"

I rolled my eyes. "No, Bhai. The undercover security you’ve already appointed is enough. Besides, I know boxing and karate—I can kick someone’s ass if I have to."

His expression darkened slightly, not appreciating my casual attitude toward my safety. Sensing that he wasn’t in the mood for jokes, I quickly reassured him, "Okay, okay. I’ll be careful and avoid unnecessary risks."

He sighed in relief, his fingers threading through my hair again.

A comfortable silence settled between us before he spoke again. "Now tell me what’s really bothering you."

I froze for a second. How does he always know?

"How do you always know?" I asked, curious yet unsurprised.

"Because I raised you, peanut," he said with a small smile. "I can tell when you’re happy, when you’re upset, and when you’re hiding something."

I hesitated, but he waited patiently. Finally, he asked the question I had been dreading.

"Is this about Vihaan?"

My breath hitched, and my eyes instantly burned with unshed tears. Bhai noticed immediately. Without a word, he cupped my face, gently wiping away the tears that slipped free.

"What happened, peanut?" His voice was gentle, but I could hear the underlying concern. "Tell me, and I’ll make it right."

I let out a shaky breath. "I met him, Bhai. After four years of avoiding him at all costs, I met him."

Bhai’s arms wrapped around me as I broke down, silent sobs shaking my body. He murmured soothing words, letting me cry against his chest until I finally pulled away, wiping my face. He handed me a glass of water, and I drank it in one go.

"How did it happen?" he asked softly.

I exhaled. "He’s best friends with Abhimanyu and Vikram Jiju—who, by the way, is engaged to Kainat and Siya. We planned a friendly lunch to introduce everyone last week, and… he was there."

"Did you talk to each other?"

I shook my head. "No. He just… glared at me the whole time, like he wanted to kill me if I so much as breathed in his direction."

Bhai hummed, processing my words. "And how did you feel?"

I swallowed hard. "When our eyes met after four years, it felt like I had only been breathing, not really living. Seeing him again reminded me of what I broke, what I lost. Being near him made me remember what it felt like to be loved by him. And I realized just how much I miss him… and how much I still love him."

Bhai was silent for a moment before he finally spoke. "You two need to talk. I know he must be furious with you, maybe even hates you. But I also know what your situation was back then. You need to apologize and explain."

I clenched my fists. "I will ask for his forgiveness, Bhai. I will do everything in my power to make it right. But I won’t tell him why I did what I did. Because this time, I won’t just apologize—I’ll make him fall in love with me all over again. Because he is mine… as much as I am his. His and his only."

A small, proud smile played on Bhai’s lips. "And I’ll make sure you succeed."

He hugged me one last time before standing up. "Goodnight, peanut."

I smirked. "It’s good morning now, muscle man."

He chuckled, shaking his head as he left.

Watching him go, I whispered to myself, I don’t believe in God, but I believe in my brother. Because I know—even if the whole world turns against me—he never will.

𝗔 𝗨 𝗧 𝗛 𝗢 𝗥

INTELLIGENCE HEADQUARTERS, LONDON

The city was waking up, its streets buzzing with the start of another busy morning. But here, on the 40th floor of a towering skyscraper, one woman had already been at work for hours.

Her fingers flew across the keyboard, the rhythmic tapping filling the otherwise silent room. The glowing screen before her was covered in an endless stream of green words and numbers, shifting rapidly as she decoded encrypted files at a speed that would put most hackers to shame.

Her dark brown hair, neatly pulled into a high ponytail, framed her sharp features. A perfectly tailored black suit accentuated her athletic frame, exuding both professionalism and authority. Long, crossed legs adorned with sleek black heels rested beneath the desk as her hazel eyes remained laser-focused on the data flashing before her.

Her brows knitted in concentration, her nose slightly pink from the relentless chill of the central A/C, and her lower lip caught between her pearly white teeth—a telltale sign of deep thought.

For minutes, she worked tirelessly, her fingers dancing over the keys with unwavering precision. Then, as the final line of code executed perfectly, she leaned back slightly, a smirk of victory gracing her lips—one that radiated confidence and control.

"Check," she murmured to herself, her soft, melodic voice barely above a whisper.

This woman—sharp, brilliant, and undeniably fierce—was none other than Piya Thakur.

Just as she reveled in her success, her phone vibrated against the polished wooden desk, drawing her attention. She picked it up and glanced at the screen. The moment she read the message, an automatic smile tugged at her lips, a rare softness replacing her usual steel-like focus.

For a brief second, the world outside her mission slipped away.

V🐒: "Chudail, when are you coming back? Maybe I miss you a little."

(Witch.)

She chuckled, shaking her head at her best friend's antics before typing back a reply.

Piya: "I'm sick of you, V, and I’m not coming back to India anytime soon. I have my FRIENDS here. P.S. I don’t miss you at all."

She sent the message with a playful smile.

Just then, a knock on her office door pulled her attention away from her phone. Looking up, she found James, one of her colleagues, standing at the entrance.

"Yes, James?" she asked.

"Piya, the boss is calling you. He said it’s urgent," he informed her.

She frowned slightly. Urgent? What could it be?

"Okay, I’m coming," she replied, watching as James gave her a nod before leaving.

Placing her phone on the desk, she stretched her neck, adjusting her heels properly before striding out of the office with confidence. On her way, she exchanged greetings with a few colleagues, keeping her professional demeanor intact.

Upon reaching her boss’s cabin, she knocked firmly.

"Come in," came the deep voice from inside.

Piya stepped in, her gaze landing on Carter Sinclair—a forty-five-year-old man with sharp features, currently focused on his laptop. He finally looked up at her with a serious expression.

"You asked for me?" she inquired in a neutral tone.

"You need to go back to India," Carter stated bluntly.

Piya’s brow arched in surprise. "And why is that?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"Because you are required there. Your flight is arranged for the day after tomorrow. Finish the job and report back." His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

For a second, Piya processed his words—and then a burst of excitement bubbled in her chest. Finally! I can go back to my family!

But she kept her emotions masked, nodding instead. "Understood."

Carter leaned back in his chair, observing her. "Did you hack the file I asked for?"

Piya smirked. "What do you think?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You’re so full of yourself."

"And you just realized that?" she shot back with mock innocence.

His amused expression faded as he returned to his professional demeanor. "Now, get back to work."

Bipolar much? she thought but refrained from saying it aloud. Instead, she muttered a sarcastic "Whatever," before turning to leave.

But just as she reached the door, his voice stopped her.

"Piya, I think there’s someone waiting for you in India," he said, his tone cryptic. "Whoever it is, they pulled all the strings to get you back there. Be careful and come back in one piece."

Piya froze for a second, confusion flickering across her face.

He? Who could it be? Who would go to such lengths just to bring me back?

A hundred possibilities ran through her mind, but none made sense.

Whoever it is, they’re in for a surprise.

A determined glint shone in her hazel eyes as she exhaled slowly. They won’t forget who Piya Thakur is.

For now, she had more important things to focus on—like going home.

She had already missed Abhi and Vicky’s engagement, but now, thanks to this mysterious person, she would at least be there for Vicky’s wedding.

And that was something she wouldn't miss for the world.

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Bye

Ash💋