The MasterMind

✯𝐶𝒉𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 3: 𝐶𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑆𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒

Delhi's scorching sun stretched over the city, painting streets in hues of gold and shadow. The air wavered under its intensity, shimmering against the glass towers and worn-out pavements alike. Horns blared in a relentless rhythm, a chaotic symphony of rushing cars and hurried footsteps. Life moved fast, yet every face in the crowd carried a story-a secret, a destination, an urgency.

At Indira Gandhi International Airport, the chaos only deepened. The air smelled of jet fuel, freshly brewed coffee, and something metallic-perhaps the scent of departure, of change. The mechanical beeping of scanning machines blended with the crisp, detached voice of flight announcements. Travelers wove through the space like restless currents, dragging luggage, exchanging glances, some eager, some weary.

And amidst it all, stepping out onto the arrival platform, was a girl.

Smaira Singh Rathore.
Aarav's 24-year-old younger cousin, a sweet and playful soul. Smaira is a rising star of the Rathore family, although few people know much about her. A recent law graduate, Smaira has taken on the massive responsibility of managing all legal affairs of the Rathore business empire.

ᴸⁱᶠᵉ ⁱˢ ᵃ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ʲᵒᵘʳⁿᵉʸ ˢᵒ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸ ⁱᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ
ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ.
........................................................................

A single figure in the midst of a sea of strangers, yet impossible to ignore.

She emerged from the sliding doors, her silhouette catching the light for a fleeting second-long, wavy locks tumbling over her shoulders, sunglasses perched atop her head, one hand gripping the handle of a sleek suitcase while the other clutched her phone.

Her lips curled into a soft, knowing smile. Not the forced, polite kind but the effortless, radiant kind-the kind that could make even a stranger pause and admire her for just a second longer.

As she stepped forward, her eyes darted around the crowd, scanning faces, searching. There was a restlessness in her gaze, an eagerness laced with something else. Something fragile.

She glanced at her phone screen, then back at the sea of people, anticipation flickering in her eyes.

And then, with a deep sigh, she spoke-her voice light, playful, yet carrying an unmistakable undertone of disappointment.

"Seriously, Mom? This is not how I imagined it..." she muttered, tilting her head slightly, as if expecting an answer from thin air. "I had this whole scene planned in my head-my grand entry back to India. Cars lined up, cameras flashing, people asking for selfies..."

Her tone was teasing, but there was a childlike wistfulness hidden in her words. A small pout formed on her lips, making her look even more endearing.

"And look at this. Just me, slipping in unnoticed, like some secret mission. No one even knows that the one and only princess of the Rathore family is back!"

She huffed dramatically, then let out a soft laugh, shaking her head.

But then-something shifted.

Her expression faltered, just for a second. A shadow passed through her gaze, something unspoken resting at the tip of her tongue.

When she spoke again, her voice was quieter, more thoughtful.

"Not that it matters... I don't even have an identity of my own. Just the Rathore name. That's all I am."

She said it as if she were reminding herself. As if she had accepted it long ago.

And then-just as quickly as the moment had come-it was gone.