BANGALORE—

AUTHOR P.O.V:

The safe-house smelled of machine oil and old newspaper. Mira crouched beside an overturned crate, her gloved fingers brushing over a faded stencil, half-scrubbed but still legible, a shipping code blurred yet not erased.

Someone had rushed this.

She moved along the room slowly, the way she always did, listing without touching. Empty ammunition boxes stacked in a corner. A rag stiff with gun oil. A single cigarette butt in the sink, foreign brand. Every object here was a sentence in a language most people couldn’t read.

She read all of them.

Nothing pointed to a name. Nothing pointed to a face. Whoever ran this place had trained the people underneath him well enough that even their carelessness left no signature.

A floorboard creaked behind her.

“Why are you here?” She did not turn, nor did her voice rise.

A chair? No, there wasn’t one, just a crate, scraped as someone dragged it beside her and sat.

“I have a question for you.” He said, instead of answering hers.

She looked up. Akash – IPS. Part of the task force. The kind of officer who asked questions like he already suspected.

“Go on.” She said.

“How do you already know this is his work?” he gestured at the room. “No name here, no signature, and nothing. And yet, you walked in and started reading it like a letter addressed to you.”

She rose, brushing the dust from her dress, and scanned the room. “Most people see a trash heap.” Her boot nudged the crate. “I see a trail. A man careful enough to leave nothing, yet careless enough to leave nothing the same way twice. That inconsistency is his signature. It just doesn’t look like one.”

Akash raised an eyebrow. “So what did you find, then? In all this nothing.”

A humourless smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “A name I know very well.” She let her words hang in the air before continuing again. “I don’t care whether it belongs to him or not anymore. I care that it keeps showing up in rooms like this.”

...........................

At The Tech-Corporation:

Leaning against the back of his chair, Zayne sifted through a pile of files, his attention fixed on the documents before him. The buzz of his phone broke the silence. He dismissed the first notification without a second thought, but moments later another appeared, this one displaying a photo of Mira. His hand paused mid-page.

Without a second thought, he picked up his phone and opened the sender's profile. The number was unfamiliar, but the picture made his grip tighten around the device. He stared at it, his eyes slowly reddening with barely restrained fury.

Then his gaze dropped to the bold sentence beneath the picture: “The one you left behind is standing before you once again today.”

His patience wore thin. A heartbeat later, he hurled the phone across the suite. It slammed into the wall with a violent crack, shattering into pieces as the room fell into stunned silence.

Penthouse – In the evening, at 8:00 am:

Mira sat on the couch in the hall, scrolling through her phone, while Akash was in the kitchen making coffee for the two of them.

That was when the door burst open with a loud bang. Heavy footsteps echoed through the hall as someone stepped inside. Yet Mira remained unfazed, calmly watching the figure approach. She rose to her feet as the person strode toward her.

And that person was none other than Zayne himself.

"What the fuck were you doing behind my back?"

She didn’t react immediately. Instead, she smiled.

“You’re early.”

He leaned in even closer, yet she didn't flinch. Neither of them broke eye contact, their gazes locked.

“Early enough to snap your head without mercy.”

She felt a quiet triumph at seeing him like this. His usually calm expression had finally cracked, and she was the reason for it. She stood tall, even as he towered over her.

“What can I even expect from a criminal like you?” She raised a brow.

“Expect anything, Mira Arora. But I don’t let espionage slide so easily.” His voice was edged with anger.

This time, the nonchalance slipped from her face. Her expression hardened as she stepped closer, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body.

“Believe me, Zayne. This espionage will have you on your knees before me.”

A mirthless laugh escaped his lips at her words.

“Mira, you really think you can win?”

“I know I can’t win,” she said, holding his gaze. “But I’ll definitely show you your place.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. How delusional you are. Fine. I’ll give you some time to enjoy that little illusion of power, to convince yourself you know where you stand. When you’re ready, I’ll remind you exactly where you belong.”

He stepped back, slipped his hands into his pockets, and his gaze remained fixed on her with an intense look.

“Enjoy your game, little Espionage.”

Then Akash entered the hall, carrying a tray with two cups of coffee. Zayne’s eyes reddened when he saw him, but within seconds, the anger gave way to mocking amusement. Still, his eyes said what his expression did not.

His lips curled into a sinister smirk. “To tujhe bhi kisi ki ghulaami qubool karne me zara bhi der nahi lagi.” (So, you didn’t take long to accept someone’s slavery either.)

Akash’s eyes flashed with anger at Zayne’s mocking tone, but he said nothing. Not because he was afraid, but because he knew Zayne. He knew exactly what kind of man he was and what he was capable of.

But Zayne’s words affected someone else. Mira’s jaw tightened.

“How dare you talk to him like that? Tumhari problem mujhse hai, so deal with me instead.”

His eyes traveled slowly from her head to toe before returning to her face one last time.

“I’ll settle this myself, the way I see fit.”

She watched as he walked away, leaving a trail of annoyance and anger etched across her expression. He had shattered her calmness, and perhaps that was exactly what he had wanted.

To Be Continued…!