chapter 54
Vijay noticed the shift. "Mrs. Rajput?"
She blinked. Once. Twice. Regaining composure.
"You're sure?" she asked quietly.
"That's the only authentic lead we have," he replied. "Why? Does it mean something to you?"
Her jaw tightened.
Deewaan wasn't just a surname.
A name that once destroyed lives.
She stood up slowly, walking toward the window, staring at the city below. Her reflection in the glass looked calm. But inside, a storm had erupted.
"No," she said after a moment. "It means nothing."
But her heart knew she was lying.
Just then Vijay's phone rang sharply, breaking the heavy silence in the cabin.
He answered immediately. "Yes... what?" His expression hardened. "Are you sure? Seal the area. Don't touch anything. I'm on my way."
He cut the call.
Ishni turned to him, eyes sharp. "What happened?"
"My officers raided an abandoned warehouse near the old docks," he said. "They found a huge stash of drugs. The packaging style... the marking codes... it matches the pattern we suspect is connected to Deewana."
Her pulse quickened.
"Location?" she asked calmly.
"Old industrial yard near the harbor."
"I'll also come," she said, already picking up her blazer.
Vijay looked slightly surprised. "Mrs. Rajput, this is not a safe place."
She gave him a look that almost made him step back.
"I don't scare easily, Officer."
Minutes later, they reached the location.
Police jeeps surrounded the rusted, broken-down warehouse.
Yellow tape fluttered in the humid night air.
The place smelled of dust, salt, and something chemical.
An officer approached. "Sir."
"Report," Vijay said.
"Approximately thirty cartons recovered.
High-grade narcotics. Imported. Hidden under scrap metal. "
Ishni stepped inside.
Her heels echoed against the concrete floor. She walked toward one of the opened cartons. Inside sealed packets, marked with a small symbol burned into the plastic.
She stepped further inside the warehouse, the air growing heavier with every step. The space was massive broken pillars, rusted containers, torn tarpaulin sheets hanging like ghosts from the ceiling. Dim yellow bulbs flickered weakly, barely lighting the corners.
Then-
A shadow darted past her.
She instantly turned.
"Who's there?" her voice was steady, but her senses sharpened.
Silence.
Only the faint sound of water dripping somewhere in the dark.
Her eyes scanned the space carefully. And then behind an overturned metal table she saw it again. A movement. A silhouette.
Someone was there.
Without alerting the officers outside, she moved quietly. Her heels made no sound now she had slipped them off instinctively. Step by step, she approached the table, her breathing controlled, heartbeat steady.
The shadow shifted again.
She moved around the table swiftly, But before she could react-
A strong arm wrapped around her from behind.
Another hand clamped over her mouth.
Her back hit a solid chest.
She drove her elbow sharply into his stomach and twisted out of his grip, turning to face him. He stood there in a black hoodie, face hidden behind a mask, eyes glinting under the dim warehouse lights.
"Who are you?" she demanded.
Instead of answering, he shoved her hard. She stumbled back, hitting the metal table with a loud clang, pain shooting through her side. But before he could make a run for it, she reacted fast-swinging her leg low and striking behind his knee.
He lost balance and crashed to the ground.
"You can't escape," she said coldly, grabbing his collar and pulling him up slightly. Her fingers tightened around the fabric, fury blazing in her eyes.
He didn't struggle.
He laughed.
A slow, dangerous sound.
"We'll... meet soon, Mrs. Deewaan."
Her breath stopped.Her grip loosened.
Mrs... Deewaan?
Her eyes widened in shock.
Before she could question him, before she could rip that mask off-
A thick cloud of smoke burst between them.
She coughed, stepping back, trying to see through the sudden haze. The officers' distant voices echoed, but everything was blurred white, suffocating, disorienting.
"Stop him!" she shouted, but her voice was swallowed by the smoke.
Seconds later The air cleared.
She is standing alone in the middle of the warehouse, chest rising and falling heavily.
Her mind replayed his words again and again.
Mrs. Deewaan.
Not Rajput.
Deewaan.
And somewhere deep inside, a truth she had buried long ago began clawing its way back to the surface.
Footsteps thundered behind her.
"Ma'am! Are you okay?" a few officers rushed toward her, guns drawn, eyes scanning the warehouse.
She straightened, jaw tight, ignoring the sting in her shoulder. "I'm fine."
Before anyone could say anything else, a voice echoed from the other side-
"Catch them! They're running!"
She turned sharply.
At the far exit, three men in black hoodies same masks, same build were sprinting toward the back gate.
Her eyes darkened.
"Block the rear exit!" she ordered.
But she didn't wait.
She ran.
Her heels clicked against the concrete floor as she chased them, adrenaline pumping through her veins.
One of the men looked back, startled to see her gaining on them.
He pulled out a rod and swung it at her.
She ducked.
The metal whooshed above her head. In one swift move, she grabbed his wrist, twisted it brutally, and drove her knee into his ribs. He groaned and collapsed.
The second one charged at her.
He tried to grab her hair big mistake.
She slammed her elbow into his jaw, then kicked him square in the chest. He stumbled backward into stacked crates, crashing down with a loud thud.
The third one pulled out a knife.
Officers shouted from behind, "Ma'am, careful!"
But she was already moving.
He lunged.
She sidestepped, caught his arm, and twisted it until the knife clattered to the floor. With controlled fury, she pinned him down, pressing his face against the cold concrete.
"Who sent you?" she hissed.
He struggled, breathing hard, but said nothing. Her grip tightened.
"Speak."
He let out a strained laugh.
"Too late..."
Before she could react, a loud screech of tires echoed outside.
Her head snapped toward the sound.
A black SUV sped away from the warehouse gates.
The real one.
He escaped again.
She stood up slowly, eyes locked on the disappearing vehicle, mind racing.
Mrs. Deewaan.
The chaos slowly settled as officers began sealing the cartons of seized drugs. Sirens echoed faintly in the distance.
"Dammit... again they ran," Vijay muttered, kicking a broken crate aside in frustration.
He ran a hand through his hair before adding, "But at least we got this shipment. These were supposed to be sent to Italy."
Ishni, who was still staring at the warehouse exit where the SUV had disappeared, turned sharply.
"Italy?" she repeated.
"Yes," Vijay nodded grimly. "Every trail we've followed... every illegal consignment, every financial transfer somehow it connects to Italy. I'm damn sure he has someone powerful there backing him. He isn't working alone."
His eyes slowly shifted toward her.
"And this 'Deewaan'... he's building something big. International."
For a split second, her mind flashed Italian contract. Rudra's business ties.
Vipul working on those reports.
No.
This can't be coincidence.
"Oh-" Vijay stepped closer. "Your forehead... it's bleeding."
She absentmindedly touched her forehead. Her fingers came away red.
Only then did she realize the warm line of blood trailing down her temple.
"It's nothing," she said calmly, wiping it away with the back of her hand.
"Nothing?" Vijay frowned. "You were attacked."
"I've had worse," she replied coldly, her gaze still distant. But inside, her thoughts were anything but calm.
'Mrs. Deewaan'
He knew her name.
Not just Rajput.
Deewana.
"Keep updating me," Ishni said firmly, her voice back to its usual composed authority. Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away, her heels clicking sharply against the warehouse floor.
---
Time Skip
The room was dim, only the bedside lamp casting a pale yellow glow over scattered files.
Ishni sat at the edge of her bed, one file open on her lap, the surname staring back at her like a ghost from the grave.
Deewaan.
Her fingers tightened around the paper.
"How is this possible...?" she whispered to herself.
The reports were clear. The patterns. The routes. The financial structuring. The execution style. It was all too familiar.
"He isn't alive..." she murmured, shaking her head. "I saw it. I saw him fall. I saw the blood."
Her breathing grew uneven.
Could it be someone using the name?
Or...
Could it be him?
No.
"No, this can't be," she stood up abruptly, pacing the room. "It's impossible."
But then that masked man's voice echoed in her mind-
'We'll meet soon, Mrs. Deewaan'
"If you're alive..." she whispered into the silence, her eyes darkening, "then you made the biggest mistake coming back."
The door opened without a knock.
Rudra walked in, phone pressed to his ear, his voice sharp and cold in a way only his enemies ever heard.
"These Italians think so highly of themselves or what? Keep eyes on them. I want every single detail. No mistakes this time," he said firmly before cutting the call.
The room fell silent.
He turned-
And saw her.
She looked at him quietly as he kept his phone aside and slowly removed his blazer, tossing it on the chair without breaking eye contact. In a few strides he was in front of her, his fingers gently brushing her forehead where the skin was slightly bruised.
"Yeh chot kaise lagi?" he asked, his voice low but laced with restrained anger.
"Kuch nahi... bas minor hai," she replied casually, trying to brush it off as if it were nothing.
His jaw tightened.
"Jaan... aap lawyer ho. Koi police nahi," he said, his thumb still hovering near the cut as if afraid to hurt her more.
She gave a small chuckle, though her eyes held their usual fire. "Rudra... lawyers need to learn fighting as well. Criminals se khud ko protect karne ke liye."
He stared at her for a long second.
There it was again.
That dangerous courage he both admired and feared.
Suddenly he stepped closer, one hand sliding to her waist, pulling her slightly toward him. "Protect karna mera kaam hai," he said firmly. "Aapko ladne ki zarurat nahi padegi jab tak main zinda hoon."
Her heartbeat skipped.
"And what if the fight is mine?" she asked softly.
His eyes darkened.
"Then," he murmured, leaning his forehead lightly against hers despite the injury, "main aapke saath khada rahunga. Par akeli nahi ladne dunga."
For a moment, the room felt heavy.
Because both of them were hiding something.
And the storm named Deewaan was slowly circling back into their lives.
Next morning
Rudra, Ishni and Tara were having breakfast together. The clinking of spoons against plates was the only sound at the table. Ishni was unusually quiet, her eyes fixed on her cup of coffee but her mind clearly somewhere else. She hadn't even touched her food properly.
"Didi... vo mai..." Tara started hesitantly, wanting to tell her something.
No response.
"Didi?" she tried again, a little louder.
Still nothing.
Tara looked at Rudra helplessly. Rudra glanced at Ishni for a moment, then gently placed his hand on her shoulder.
"Jaan?"
Ishni blinked and snapped out of her thoughts. "Haan? Kya hua?"
"You've been zoning out for the past five minutes," Rudra said softly, studying her face. "Sab thik hai na?"
"Haan, bilkul," she replied quickly, forcing a small smile. "Bas thoda kaam ka stress hai."
Tara wasn't convinced. "Didi, aap kal raat tak kam kara rhi thi"
Ishni gave her a reassuring look. "I'm fine, Tara. Don't worry."
Rudra's eyes moved to the small bandage on her forehead. He reached out and brushed his thumb lightly near it. "Yeh 'fine' lag raha hai aapko?"
She sighed softly. "Minor injury hai, Rudra. It's nothing."
He leaned back slightly, but his gaze didn't soften. "Jaan, mujhe pasand nahi hai jab aap kuch chupaati ho."
For a second, her expression faltered. The word echoed in her mind again - Deewaan.
"Arey Tara, tumhe kuch chahiye tha kya?" Ishni asked, turning toward her.
"Uhm... vo didi... aaj college nahi hai, isliye... mere friends ne bahar jaane ka plan kiya hai... toh bas permission lena tha aap dono se," Tara said nervously, glancing between Ishni and Rudra.
Rudra raised an eyebrow. "Bahar? Kahan?"
"Bas... mall side," she replied quickly. "Lunch karenge, thoda ghoomenge... shaam tak aa jaungi."
Ishni observed Tara's slightly anxious face. "Kaun kaun jaa raha hai?"
"Bas meri class ke log..." Tara said, avoiding eye contact.
Rudra leaned back in his chair. "Timing?"
"Shaam 6 ya 7 tak... pakka," she said immediately.
Rudra glanced at Ishni. She gave him a subtle nod.
"Theek hai," Ishni said calmly. "But location share karna. Aur phone reachable hona chahiye."
Tara's face instantly lit up. "Thank you didi!"
Rudra added firmly, "Aur driver ke saath jaogi."
Tara's smile froze. "Driver?"
"Haan. Safety first," he said casually but with authority.
"Par bhai-" she tired to say he replied coolly. "Tum akeli nahi jaogi."
Ishni noticed Tara's disappointment and softened a little. "Theek hai, driver tumhe drop karega. Wapas aate waqt bhi inform kar dena. Samjhi?"
Tara nodded reluctantly. "Ji..."
Time skip
Vipul was sitting in his cabin, spinning his pen restlessly.
"Kya karu yaar... kaise permission maangu... agar mana kar diya toh?" he muttered to himself.
Just then his office phone rang.
"Vipul, office mein aao." Rudra's voice came from the other side.
"Ab toh gaya..." he whispered and immediately straightened his coat before walking into Rudra's cabin.
"Yes boss."
Rudra didn't look up at first, flipping through some files. "In deals mein delay kyun hua hai? Maine specially bola tha ki Italian contract pe close monitoring chahiye."
"Ji boss..." Vipul nodded, though his mind was somewhere else.
"Yeh shipment schedule revise karo. Aur financial audit bhi ek baar cross-check karna."
"Ji..."
Rudra finally looked at him. "Vipul, dhyaan kahaan hai tumhara?"
"Ji? Nahi boss, main sun raha hoon."
"Sach bolo. Kuch problem hai?"
Vipul hesitated. Bol de... bas bol de...
"Boss... vo... actually..." he scratched the back of his neck.
Finally gathering courage, Vipul cleared his throat. "Boss... vo actually mujhe aaj ek din ki chhutti chahiye..."
Rudra looked up slowly. "Day off? Par kyun?"
Vipul panicked and the first lie that came to his mind slipped out. "Actually... mera dost hai na... vo maa banne wala hai!"
Rudra's eyebrows knitted together. "Kya?"
Vipul's eyes widened. "Nhii nhii! Sorry! Mere dost ki wife... vo maa banne wali hai! Isliye usne bulaya hai..." he corrected quickly, mentally praying for the ground to swallow him.
Rudra leaned back in his chair, observing him carefully. "Vipul... main genuinely concerned hoon. Tum theek ho? Kal raat 12 baje shower le rahe the... aur aaj tumhara dost maa ban raha hai?"
Vipul swallowed. "Ji boss... vo... hygiene important hoti hai..."
Rudra crossed his arms. "Aur tumhare dost ko delivery room mein tumhari zarurat kyun hai?"
"Support system boss... emotional support..."
Rudra sighed deeply, rubbing his temple for a second. "Fine... go," he said in a tired voice.
Vipul's face instantly brightened, but he quickly controlled his expression and kept a straight face. "Thank you, boss," he replied professionally, though his excitement was barely contained. He turned around and almost rushed out of the cabin, trying not to look too happy.
The moment the door closed, Rudra leaned back in his chair, staring at it for a few seconds.
"Ajeeb ho gaya hai yeh..." he muttered to himself. "Kal raat shower at midnight... aaj dost pregnant...." He shook his head slightly.
Meanwhile, outside the cabin, Vipul practically floated back to his own office.
"Bach gaya!" he whispered dramatically. "Thank you bhagwan!" He quickly grabbed his phone to text Tara, fingers moving fast with excitement. For the first time that whole day, the tension on his face disappeared, replaced with a wide, boyish grin.
At the mansion, Tara sat in front of her mirror, adjusting her earrings, checking herself for the fifth time. She was trying to act calm... but her heart was racing.
Just then her phone rang. Vipul.
She quickly picked up. "Hello?"
"Finally boss gave me day off," he said dramatically.
"Pheww finally! You're coming, right? Because I thought you won't come and I would have killed you!" she whispered loudly.
"Miss Tara, thoda control. Bas ready ho jao and wait for me to come," he said confidently.
"Wait! Don't you dare come inside the mansion," she said quickly. "Stay few minutes away from here. Agar kisi ne dekh liya na, toh sab khatam."
"Arre haan baba, I'm not that stupid," he replied. "Main thoda door rukunga. Tum chup chaap bahar aana."
She narrowed her eyes at the mirror. "And don't call me when you reach. Just text. Rudra jiju kabhi bhi check kar lete hain."
Vipul paused. "Tumhare jiju se mujhe darr lagne laga hai."
"Good. Lagna bhi chahiye," she smirked. "Kal raat shower story ke baad toh aur bhi."
"Please yaad mat dilao," he groaned.
After getting ready, Tara took a deep breath and stepped out of her room. She walked down the grand staircase, trying to look normal... not too fast, not too slow.
As she reached the hall, she casually glanced around. Thankfully, no one stopped her.
She stepped outside.
The guards near the entrance straightened seeing her.
"Baap re..." she muttered under her breath. She gave them a small polite smile and walked towards the main gate, trying not to look suspicious.
Once outside the mansion gates, she walked a few steps ahead.
And there he was.
Vipul.
Leaning against his car, sunglasses on, arms folded, acting like some movie hero waiting for his heroine.
Today he wasn't wearing his usual formal suit. Instead, he had on white pants, a crisp white shirt, a black coat thrown casually over it, and dark sunglasses resting perfectly on his nose. He looked effortlessly handsome... dangerously so.
Tara slowed down for a second when she saw him.
He pushed himself off the car and turned toward her.
And then he just stared.
She was wearing high-waist jeans, a soft crop top, her hair left open, falling naturally over her shoulders. Simple. But stunning.
Vipul's mouth literally fell open.
She crossed her arms and smirked. "Aree mister, apna muh band karo."
He didn't even blink. "Band kar doon?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Haan."
He stepped closer, removing his sunglasses slowly. "Toh tum hi kar do na... itna haq toh banta hai."
Her eyes widened. "Sharam nahi aati?"
"Bilkul nahi," he replied smoothly, his gaze still fixed on her. "Tumhe aise dekhne ke baad toh bilkul nahi."
She tried to act unaffected. "Control karo apne aap ko."
"Main kar raha hoon," he said softly, leaning slightly closer. "Warna abhi tak main bas dekh nahi raha hota."
She gulped, then quickly turned away to hide her blush.
He smiled to himself.
"Chalo madam," he opened the car door for her, voice dropping just a little, "warna main phir se dekhna start kar dunga... aur iss baar shayad aankhon se zyada keh doon."
In office
In the office, Ishni was reviewing a few files, her expression serious and focused.
Just then, there was a knock on her cabin door.
"Come in," she said without looking up.
A guard stepped inside holding a bouquet.
"Ma'am, someone kept these flowers for you.
"
She looked up, slightly surprised. "Who was it?
"
"Don't know, ma'am. There is no address," he replied.
She paused for a moment. "Alright, keep it and go."
As the door closed, her eyes shifted to the bouquet. Red and white lilies, arranged perfectly. Elegant. Expensive.
"Shayad Rudra ne bheja hoga..." she thought softly.
A faint smile appeared on her lips. She gently picked up the bouquet and noticed a small folded card tucked between the flowers.
Her smile faded slightly.
Her fingers slowly moved toward the card attached to the bouquet.
She unfolded it.
The words were written in dark, confident strokes -
"Mrs. Deewaan.
. missed me? I did. Don't worry, we'll meet soon.
.. and I'll get you back from where you belong.
"
For a second, the world around her went silent.
Her grip tightened.
Belong?
Her heartbeat started racing. That voice from last night echoed in her mind - "We'll meet soon, Mrs. Deewaan"
"No..." she whispered under her breath.
Her jaw clenched. "Tum zinda kaise ho..." she muttered, almost to herself.
Tara and Vipul were having the most unexpectedly beautiful day together. For once, there were no office files, no boss calling every five minutes, no guards watching from corners.
Just them. She kept laughing at his silly jokes, and he kept staring at her like he still couldn't believe she was actually there with him.
While crossing a roadside market, Tara suddenly stopped.
Her eyes sparkled the moment she saw a stall filled with colorful bangles - pink, blue, golden, tiny mirrors shining under the sun.
She subconsciously held Vipul's sleeve, about to show him, but he had already turned slightly away, phone pressed to his ear, talking seriously.
Her smile faded.
She made a small face. "Huh... busy aadmi," she muttered softly and walked a few steps ahead, pretending she wasn't affected.
A few hours later, they reached a cozy café.
"What do you want to drink?" he asked, pulling a chair for her.
"Soft drink," she replied casually.
He nodded and placed the order.
Then he hesitated slightly. "Uhmm... Tara, can you wait a minute? I have to make a call."
She looked at him.
"Again?" she didn't say it out loud this time.
He stepped aside, moving near the glass window, talking in a low voice.
Tara rested her chin on her palm and kept looking at him. He looked serious... not like someone casually chatting. Her mind started overthinking.
"Kisse baat kar raha hai... office? Ya..
.?" she sighed.
Just then, the waiter placed her drink on the table.
The bubbles fizzed softly, but her mood wasn't as bubbly anymore.
Outside the café glass, she could see people passing, couples laughing, someone buying flowers.
She looked at Vipul again.
Tara crossed her arms and stared at her glass like it had personally betrayed her.
"He seriously has no manners... like seriously," she muttered under her breath, poking the straw aggressively. "Date pe aaya hai mere saath aur dekho... phone pe busy. Wah. Kya fantastic boyfriend mila hai mujhe."
She took a dramatic sip.
"Work se hi shaadi kar leni chahiye thi isne. Mujhe kyun beech mein laaya?" she continued whispering to the soft drink as if it was her therapist.
Outside, Vipul was still on call, back facing her. His expression was intense, voice low.
Tara rolled her eyes.
"Haan haan, romantic background music bhi chala lo. Poori filmi entry bana lo apni aur apne kaam ki," she mumbled sarcastically, sipping louder this time.
After finishing her drink, Tara looked around and frowned.
He wasn't there.
"Unbelievable..." she muttered under her breath. "Date pe aaye hain ya office shift karne?"
She picked up her bag, ready to go and drag him back herself when she saw him walking toward her.
Not empty-handed.
He was carrying multiple bags.
"Vipul-"
Before she could continue, he sat down in front of her quietly. There was no teasing expression this time. Just something soft in his eyes.
He placed the bags aside and slowly took out the colorful bangles.
Tara's breath paused.
"Haath do..."
She extended her hand without arguing.
Very carefully, he slid the bangles onto her wrist, one by one. The soft clinking sound filled the space between them.
"Tumhe lagta hai main busy tha?" he said gently, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles.
He looked up at her.
"Main bas isliye gaya tha... kyunki jab tum un bangles ko dekh rahi thi na... tumhari aankhon mein woh chamak thi."
His voice lowered.
"Woh chamak main miss nahi kar sakta."
The last bangle settled perfectly on her wrist.
"Phone important ho sakta hai," he continued softly, "lekin tum... tum priority ho."
Tara's eyes softened.
"Chahe main kitna bhi kaam mein phas jaaun... main kabhi itna busy nahi ho sakta ki tumhari khushi ignore kar doon."
He lifted her hand slightly, admiring how the bangles looked on her.
"Tumhe dekh kar khush hona... mera favourite kaam hai."
Then he pushed the rest of the bags toward her.
She looked shocked. "Itne saare?"
He smiled.
"Jo tumhe pasand aaye... woh kam kaise ho sakte hain?"
A small pause.
"Main chahta hoon jab bhi tum inhe pehno... tumhe yaad aaye ki koi hai jo tumhari har choti si pasand tak yaad rakhta hai."
Tara couldn't speak for a moment.
He leaned a little closer.
"Date pe main tumhare saath hoon, Tara... sirf physically nahi... poori tarah."
He was just watching her reaction like it was the most precious thing in the world.
She suddenly leaned forward and hugged him tightly.
"Ohh Vipul... tum bhi na..." she murmured against his shoulder.
For a second he froze then his arms slowly wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer like she belonged there.
"Haan... main bhi na," he replied softly near her ear.
He rested his chin lightly over her head.