𝐈𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐚~𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐞 | 𝟐𝟏+

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫|𝐋𝐨𝐰𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

The morning sunlight poured into Shivaay's study, catching on the gold trimmings of the dark wooden shelves that lined the walls. A strained silence filled the air, punctuated only by the faint hum of the CCTV monitors that surrounded him. Shivaay leaned back in his chair, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the armrests. His piercing eyes were glued to the footage playing out in front of him.

Daksh stood to his right, scrolling through another set of camera feeds, his brows furrowed in frustration. "We've been at this for hours, Shivaay. Whoever made that call knew exactly how to avoid being seen."

Shivaay didn't respond immediately. His gaze darted across the screens, picking apart every frame, every movement. Then, abruptly, he leaned forward and pointed at the screen. "Rewind that."

Daksh did as instructed, stopping at a blurry clip of someone brushing past the edge of a corridor. It wasn't much—just the faintest movement, a shadow blending into the walls.

"That's it," Shivaay murmured, narrowing his eyes. "She knew exactly where the blind spots were."

Daksh straightened. "You think it's a woman?"

"I know it's a woman," Shivaay snapped. His mind raced, connecting dots he hadn't dared to before. The subtle glances, the careful distance, the calculated silences—it all pointed to her.

But why?

Before Daksh could ask another question, Shivaay pushed away from the desk and stood, his presence filling the room like a storm. "This isn't over," he said. "If she's this good, we need someone better to corner her."

An hour later, Shivaay sat in the study once more, his phone pressed to his ear as he waited for the call to connect. When the screen lit up, Ednit Randhawa's face appeared, his expression as smug as ever.

"Shivaay Raizada," Randhawa drawled, leaning back in his chair. "This must be important if you're reaching out to me directly."

"I don't have time for your games," Shivaay replied coldly. "I have a proposal for you."

Randhawa's smirk widened. "I'm intrigued. Go on."

Shivaay's voice was measured, his words deliberate. "There's someone I need tracked. They've managed to slip through every security measure I've put in place. If anyone comes to you about the Bangus Valley incident—or anything remotely connected to it—I want you to attach a tracker to them. I'll provide the resources and compensation."

Randhawa raised an eyebrow. "Compensation, you say? And what does this mystery person have to do with Bangus Valley?"

"That's none of your concern," Shivaay said, his tone icy. "All you need to know is that this person is clever, dangerous, and has ties to things that shouldn't be touched."

Randhawa leaned forward, the light glinting off his glasses. "Clever and dangerous, you say? Sounds like you've met your match, Raizada."

Shivaay didn't rise to the bait. "Do we have a deal or not?"

After a moment's pause, Randhawa nodded. "Fine. But I'll expect more than just money in return."

"You'll get everything you need," Shivaay said before ending the call.

The next two days passed in a blur of tension and subtle movements. Aadhisha kept her interactions with Shivaay minimal, aware of the sharp edge in his gaze whenever their paths crossed. Yet, she couldn't help but notice the moments his eyes lingered on her, as though searching for answers he couldn't yet name.

"You've been quiet," he remarked one evening as they passed each other in the main hall.

"Just preparing for my trip," Aadhisha replied, her tone light but guarded. "Jammu isn't exactly a vacation spot."

Shivaay gave her a long, unreadable look but said nothing more.

That night, as the palace quieted and the moon rose high, Aadhisha slipped into the private wing where Tannishta Cauvery Raizada's quarters were located. She moved with practiced ease, her footsteps silent against the polished floors. The weight of her mission pressed against her chest, but she pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand.

Tannishta's quarters were immaculate, every piece of furniture and decoration carefully curated. Aadhisha's eyes scanned the room, searching for anything that could be useful. Finally, in a locked drawer, she found a small notebook filled with coded entries. She couldn't make sense of the contents, but it was enough. It had to be.

The day before her departure, Aadhisha wandered the palace gardens, her thoughts a whirlwind of doubt and determination. The notebook weighed heavily in her pocket, a reminder of the choice she'd made.

I can't betray him—not fully, she thought, her mind replaying the moments she'd spent with Shivaay. His voice, his touch, his unwavering intensity—it was all too much, and yet she couldn't bring herself to let it go.

As she rounded a corner, her attention was drawn to a shadowy figure near the back gates. A woman dressed in an ornate lehenga stood with her back to Aadhisha, her face hidden beneath a heavy shawl. She was speaking to a tall, hooded man, her voice low but urgent.

Aadhisha moved closer, keeping to the shadows. The woman's words were faint but unmistakable.

"Tannishta will be a part of this banquet," she said, her tone sharp. "You can easily kill her there."

The man nodded, tucking a folded piece of paper into his coat. "Understood."

Aadhisha's breath caught. Her mind raced, the implications of what she'd just overheard sending a chill down her spine. Before she could process what to do, the pair disappeared into the shadows, leaving her alone with the weight of their words.

Back in her room, Aadhisha sat on the edge of her bed, the notebook clutched tightly in her hands. Her thoughts were a storm of conflict and uncertainty.

If I give this to Randhawa, I'll be betraying Shivaay. But if I don't... what happens next?

Her fingers tightened around the notebook as a memory of Shivaay's voice echoed in her mind.

"I don't tolerate betrayal, Aadhisha."

With a deep breath, she made her decision. She wouldn't give Randhawa anything real—not the notebook, not the truth. But she couldn't ignore the threat against Tannishta either. She would have to play both sides carefully, navigating the razor-thin line between loyalty and survival.

###