They called me a princess of dual royal heritage-Rajgarh's Brar dynasty and Milan's Agosti lineage. They see me as the jewel of Rajgarh, the princess who carries her lineage with pride, a major in the Indian Army who serves her country with honor. But what they don't see is the shadow behind the crown. My life was never just mine; it belonged to secrets, to missions cloaked in silence, to Zarqash-the hidden thread of the Indian Army that weaves through the unseen corners of the nation.
From the moment I could walk, my world was a tapestry of contrasts. I grew up in golden halls where laughter echoed like music, where every smile felt like sunlight after rain. My childhood was painted with love and joy, even as fate stole away pieces of my family, one by one. At Blackstone Academy, they polished me into brilliance, preparing me for a world that would demand more than just intelligence-it demanded sacrifice. By 18, I was a forensic psychiatrist in London, dissecting minds by day and slipping into the shadows of missions by night.
Rajgarh adores the story they know. But my truth? It is whispered only to the stars. I am more than the soldier they think I am, more than the princess they celebrate. I am a spy trained to disappear, to blend into chaos, to carry secrets heavier than crowns.
And yet, for all the strength I carried, there was one thing I couldn't hold on to-myself. The day my memory slipped away, it was as though my whole life dissolved into smoke. Who I was, what I had done, who I loved-it all vanished like a dream at dawn.
This is my story-of a princess, a soldier, a spy. Of the girl who lived a hundred lives before forgetting them all.
Author's Note: Read 'Reclaimed Legacy' first.
"She was never meant to be his weakness. But now, she's his only obsession."
Arsh Bajaj never touched a woman. Never let them close.
Not because he couldn't-but because he didn't want to.
He ruled the world with cold precision, his touch worth more than empires.
Women were irrelevant.
Love was a myth. Desire was a weakness.
Until Ziya.
The first time he saw her, something inside him snapped.
Not softly. Not gently.
But violently, like a dam breaking.
She wasn't like the rest.
She wasn't drawn to his power, his wealth, his ruthless dominance over the world.
She didn't look at him like he was a god.
She looked at him like he was... nothing.
And that was his first mistake-letting her exist outside of him.
"Ziya, you don't understand. You don't have a choice anymore."
She should have run. She should have fought harder.
But Ziya wasn't someone who begged for mercy.
She was a storm disguised in quiet solitude, a girl with shadows deeper than the night itself. She wasn't made to be owned.
She wasn't made to be his.
But that was too bad. Because he had already decided.
"You belong to me. That's not love, Ziya. That's fate."
And fate was merciless.
Just when the fire between them turned to something terrifyingly real, the ghosts of their past came clawing back.
Enemies they didn't even know they had. Betrayals from the people they trusted most. Lies that could destroy them both.
Arsh wasn't afraid of the world. The world was afraid of him.
But this wasn't just about him anymore-this was about her.
And if anyone dared to take her away from him...
If anyone even laid a single scratch on the only thing he had ever asked for from the universe-his Ziya...
"I will bring hell to their doorstep. And I won't stop until there's nothing left of them but ashes."
But the question was-who would betray who first?