CHAPTER XIII A DEERS N13, YES?
Morning light filtered through the sheer curtains of Nayonica Sen's apartment like a hesitant apology — soft, pale, almost reluctant to touch the wreckage of the previous night.
The room smelled of vanilla candles long burned out, leftover takeout boxes, and the faint, comforting scent of Nayonica's coconut shampoo that always lingered on the pillows.
The city outside hummed distantly, indifferent to the private storms contained within these four walls.
Ishaani woke slowly, cocooned in warmth that wasn't hers. The borrowed comfort that resembled the embrace of a mistress, a story ever loving yet bound for tragic ruins.
Her body registered it first — the steady rise and fall of someone breathing beside her, the soft press of another person's arm draped across her waist, the familiar weight of a leg tangled with hers.
For one disoriented, blissful second, she thought it was Tara.
The scent was wrong, though — sweeter, lighter, laced with the faint trace of Nayonica's favourite body lotion.
Her eyes opened as a twisted part of her hoped, staring into hazel orbs instead of light brown ones.
Nayonica lay facing her, dark hair spilt across the pillow like ink on silk, lashes casting faint shadows on her cheeks.
Her mouth was slightly parted in sleep, one hand loosely curled near Ishaani's ribs.
The morning light painted her in gentle gold, highlighting the elegant line of her collarbone where her tank's thin strap had slipped.
Ishaani's breath caught.
Then the memories crashed over her like cold water — Devika's slap, the sting on her cheek, Vedika's accusations, Tara's torn saree, the desperate kiss in front of flashing cameras, the way she had walked out into the night because the weight of her family's anger had become too heavy to carry.
Her chest tightened as the grey clouds rolled back in, thick and suffocating.
Nayonica stirred, eyes fluttering open. For a moment, she looked confused, then her gaze softened with quiet understanding as she took in Ishaani's face.
"Hey," Nayonica whispered, voice husky with sleep.
She didn't pull away. Instead, she shifted closer, her arm tightening around Ishaani's waist in a protective hold.
"You're here. You're safe." Nayonica snuggled tighter into Ishaani's hold, one muscled arm which had slithered around Nayonica in her sleep.
Ishaani knew Nayonica's tendency to never like mornings, and the betterment of the situation when she had someone to snuggle into—she had been that way ever since they both were 10, and Ishaani had grown into it.
Ishaani swallowed hard. "I... I don't remember falling asleep."
"You cried until you couldn't anymore," Nayonica said gently.
Her thumb brushed a slow circle on Ishaani's side, warm through the thin fabric of her t-shirt.
Ishaani knew the t-shirt was Nayonica's from the big, artistic impression logo of Hozier on the chest which she was thankful for because she wasn't really a fan of sleeping in a corset.
"Then you just... crashed. I didn't want to leave you alone.
" Nayonica said, looking up at Ishaani with her fierce eyes, currently easing into tender pools of honey, courtesy of the sunlight falling on them.
The silence between them was heavy but not uncomfortable. Nayonica's body was warm and solid against hers, a quiet anchor in the middle of the storm. Ishaani let herself lean into it, head resting against Nayonica's, breathing in the familiar scent of her best friend.
"You know you don't have to carry all of this alone, right?" Nayonica whispered. "Not with me. We never hid anything from each other, Ishi"
Ishaani's voice was muffled against her hair.
"It feels like everything is breaking. Devika di slapped me, Nayon.
Devika didi would lash out on whoever even dared to look wrong in my direction, let alone touch me.
All because I defended Tara. Because I wouldn't let them blame her for everything.
And Vedika didi.... she looked at me like I was betraying her by choosing Tara. "
Nayonica's arms tightened around her, one leg sliding between Ishaani's in a tangle that felt both comforting and tenderly close.
"They're scared. You have to understand their side of the story too, baby.
They love you so much it makes them stupid.
" Nayonica looked up into Ishaani's slightly damp eyes and gave herself the liberty of brushing her hands down Ishaani's side, the way she knew would calm down her over-anxious friend, like it always had.
"But that doesn't make it okay. None of it is okay.
" She decided to side with her best friend nonetheless.
Ishaani let out a watery laugh. "I kissed Tara in front of everyone.
In front of the cameras. I didn't even think.
I just... needed her. The thought of losing her to something so vile.
...someone so disgusting, made my blood boil.
I couldn't have stopped myself even when you held me back.
" Ishaani looked at Nayonica's face searching for understanding which she was indeed met with, desperation reeking out of Ishaani but all sorts of self-restraint left her body the moment it accounted to her loss of Tara, "You get it, right? "
Nayonica pulled back just enough to look at her, their faces inches apart. Her dark eyes were soft, searching. "Yes....But how did that feel?"
"Like breathing again," Ishaani admitted, voice cracking. "Like the only real thing in the middle of all the noise."
Nayonica's thumb brushed gently across Ishaani's cheek, tracing the faint redness left from Devika's slap.
The touch lingered, tender and heavy with something deeper than friendship — an old, quiet affection that had always existed between them, never named, never pushed, but always there.
Nayonica couldn't undo what they have had at a time, but she didn't even have to.
Love didn't always mean something between significant others or partners—the feeling was always reserved for people who had a soft corner for their favourites, something so deep and tender that no one could name it correctly.
Showing love did not equate to just kissing or making love to a person.
It was something far more unexplainable and far too big of a spectrum to lodge places in.
It was the quiet moments between friends where they just talked, moments where you sat on the counter, whilst your mother or father cooked in the kitchen, the moment when you must've sat below a dense tree on a particularly hot, summer evening writing in your journal, going to your favourite cafe or a childhood restaurant for supper because the place felt like home, or just completing your Physics homework— we have fell in love with moments, with people and with places.
The same love was what Nayonica felt for Ishaani because her favourite moments in her life had been with her best friend, her favourite poems were undoubtedly from Ishaani and if a person could be deemed home, Nayonica would tag Ishaani as such too.
She couldn't live her life as herself if you took away Ishaani's influence and the love she held for her.
She didn't fall in love with her, she simply loved Ishaani and nothing in the world could explain why or how.
"You deserve that," Nayonica whispered. "You deserve someone who loves you, who makes you feel safe enough to lose control.
Even if it's messy. Even if it scares everyone else.
Your person should know what they are dealing with and should love you even when you become unbearable because, isn't that love?
I know you'd do it in a heartbeat for the woman you loved, baby.
" Nayonica huffed a breath, followed by a soft chuckle.
"Yes, you become detached and emotionally grey and tend to ignore feelings when they turn excessive and start scaring you but you would never neglect your person, is what I'm sure of.
Hence, I know that you deserve all the love in the world.
None of what you did was your fault. In fact, now that I have been shown my father's true colours, I should be thanking you. "
Ishaani's eyes filled again. She leaned forward and pressed her forehead against Nayonica's neck, their heartbeats thumping with equal amplitude.
For a long moment, they stayed like that — close, warm, tangled in sheets and unspoken understanding.
Nayonica's hand slid up to rest on Ishaani's wide shoulders, fingers splayed possessively, protectively.
"You're not alone in this," Nayonica said softly. "Not ever."
Ishaani nodded, a single tear slipping down her cheek. Nayonica wiped it away with her thumb, then pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to Ishaani's forehead — not romantic, not quite platonic either. Just love, raw and steady.
They stayed wrapped in each other as the morning light grew brighter, two girls holding onto the only solid thing left in a world that kept trying to pull them apart.
The doorbell rang abruptly, pulling them out of their wonderland.
Nayonica groaned softly but didn't let go immediately. "That's probably Sparshi with breakfast. She said she'd come. Hopefully with Saarakshi because I can't deal with her alone."
Ishaani didn't move. She stayed curled against Nayonica for another long moment, soaking in the comfort before reality intruded again.
The four of them ended up sprawled across Nayonica's living room like a pile of exhausted kittens — Ishaani and Nayonica on the couch, Sparshi on the floor with her head in Saarakshi's lap, empty coffee cups and breakfast wrappers scattered around them.
Nayonica's living room was a love letter to Art Deco decadence soaked in deep, velvety maroon.
The walls were a rich oxblood hue, accented with geometric gold trim and mirrored panels that caught light like forbidden secrets.
A low, sleek velvet sofa in deep burgundy dominated the space, flanked by chrome side tables and a glass coffee table with sharp, angular edges.
A large geometric rug in maroon, black, and gold stretched beneath it all, while vintage posters and bold abstract art hung in perfect symmetry.
Brass lamps with frosted glass shades cast a warm, golden glow, making the room feel both luxurious and intimate — like a 1930s speakeasy that had decided to grow up and get expensive taste.
Ishaani had always loved Nayonica's apartment more than she loved her own house.
It was unapologetically her: bold, dramatic, and dripping with old-world glamour.
Sparshi was the first to break the comfortable silence, grinning up at Ishaani. "So... you kissed Tara in front of the entire press corps. Iconic. Absolutely iconic. I need the details. Was it hot? Was it desperate? Did you grab her ass?"
Nayonica swatted her head. "Sparshi, read the room."
Ishaani let out a tired laugh, leaning her head on Nayonica's shoulder. "It was... everything. I thought I was losing her. I just... needed her. Right then."
Saarakshi smiled softly. "You two are disgustingly in love. It's nauseating."
The conversation drifted — light teasing mixed with quiet support. Sparshi told exaggerated stories to make Ishaani laugh. Nayonica stayed close, her hand occasionally brushing Ishaani's in silent reassurance. Saarakshi offered the calm, steady presence they all needed.
For the first time since the slap, Ishaani felt like she could breathe without the weight crushing her chest.
Mid-afternoon light slanted through the curtains of Nayonica's apartment in thin, dusty beams, catching on the half-empty coffee cups and the crumpled wrappers from breakfast that still littered the low table.
The air was warm, almost stagnant, carrying the faint scent of coconut lotion, leftover coffee, and the subtle undercurrent of two girls who had spent the morning holding each other through the wreckage.
Ishaani sat curled on the couch, legs tucked beneath her, Nayonica's arm draped loosely around her shoulders. Her phone had stayed off since last night, but the landline on the coffee table rang again — shrill, insistent, demanding—particularly like its owner.
Nayonica glanced at the caller ID and sighed. "Devika di, again."
Ishaani's jaw tightened. She gave a small, reluctant nod.
Nayonica answered, on speaker.
"Nayonica," Devika's voice came through, tight with exhaustion and barely concealed worry. "Thank God! Is Ishaani there? Please tell me she's safe."
Nayonica's hand squeezed Ishaani's shoulder gently. "She's here. She's safe."
A beat of silence. Then Vedika's voice, sharper, laced with frustration. "Ishaani, talk to us. You can't just disappear like this. We've been calling all morning. Papa called from Monaco — he's furious. He wants to speak to you."
Ishaani stared at the phone, her voice flat and distant. "I'm fine."
Devika exhaled sharply. "Fine? You left in the middle of the night after everything that happened. After I... after all of the happenings. I'm sorry, baby, I really am, I was scared....I was so scared for you. But running away doesn't fix this."
Ishaani's fingers dug into the couch cushion. "I didn't run. I just... needed space."
Vedika cut in, voice cracking with emotion. "Space from us? From your own family? Tara's games dragged you into that mess last night. Papa is losing his mind. He said we should never have let her get close to you. That this is exactly what he warned us about."
Ishaani's laugh was hollow, tired. "Yeah. Of course he did."
The call felt strained, every word heavy with things left unsaid. Ishaani's responses were short, half-assed, like she was speaking through a fog she couldn't quite shake. Nayonica rubbed her back in slow circles, offering silent support.
Devika tried again, gentler this time. "We told him what happened. About the slap. About Tara. He's demanding you come home. He wants to talk to you himself. Ishaani, please. We're your sisters. We love you. This fighting... it's tearing us apart."
Ishaani stared at the floor, voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't do anything wrong."
Vedika's tone softened, but the frustration lingered. "We know that. But Tara — she calculated that whole scene. She risked you. She risked all of us. I love her, Ishi. She's my best friend. But watching her put you in danger like that... it kills me."
The silence stretched, uncomfortable and heavy.
Then Tara's voice came through the speaker — low, steady, that faint British lilt cutting through the tension like cool water.
"Ishi."
Ishaani's entire body shifted. Her shoulders straightened. Her eyes, previously dull and distant, sharpened with something alive. She leaned forward toward the phone instinctively.
"Tara," she breathed, voice suddenly clear and present. "Hi."
The change was immediate, visceral as if the fog had been lifted. The half-assed replies vanished and Ishaani was there again, fully, like a light switching on in a dark room.
Tara's voice softened, deep, warm and intimate even through the phone. "Hey, Bambi. You okay?"
Ishaani nodded, even though Tara couldn't see it. "Yeah. I am... I'm with Nayon. I'm safe."
Devika and Vedika were silent on the other end, listening to the shift.
It was evident in the rigidity of Vedika's shoulders as she watched Tara leaning over the couch to speak into the speaker with a faint smile on her face.
She felt it was mocking on Tara's end with the way she was treating the whole situation yet she didn't wish for another spectacle.
She also listened to her sister's love-struck tone from the other end, and that made an unpleasant wave of guilt and grief wash over her.
Tara continued gently. "Your sisters told you about the call with your father?"
"Yeah," Ishaani said, fingers tightening around Nayonica's hand. "He's mad. About everything. The kiss. The fight. He wants me home."
Tara's tone remained calm, but there was steel underneath. "You don't have to go if you're not ready. No one can force you. But if you want to talk to him, we'll be there. All of us."
Ishaani let out a shaky breath. "I know I'll have to talk to him soon. But right now... I can't give a fuck, Tara. I didn't do anything wrong. I defended you. I chose you. That's not a crime."
The line was quiet for a moment.
Vedika spoke first, voice softer now. "We know that, Ishi. We're just... scared. For you."
Devika added, exhaustion heavy in her tone. "Come home when you're ready. We'll talk properly. No more shouting. No more slapping. I promise."
Ishaani didn't answer immediately. She leaned her head against Nayonica's shoulder, drawing strength from the steady warmth beside her.
"I'll come back soon," she said finally. "But not right now."
The call ended with murmured goodbyes and lingering tension.
Nayonica pressed a gentle kiss to Ishaani's temple. "You did good."
Ishaani closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the comfort of her best friend's arms. The storm wasn't over. But for this moment, in this quiet apartment, she could breathe.
Another full day slipped by in the Rajvanshi mansion like sand through clenched fists — slow, inevitable, and leaving raw abrasions behind.
The house felt cavernous without Ishaani's quiet presence, the marble halls echoing with the absence of her footsteps, the kitchen too still without her half-hearted attempts at making coffee, the air itself heavier, as if the walls were listening for a voice that refused to return.
The sisters moved through the hours like ghosts of themselves.
Vedika remained buried in the study, screens glowing coldly in the dim light, fingers flying across keyboards with mechanical precision because she wanted the details and memos on Aurobindo compiled in case she needed to send it to Naina Rizvi-Roy (the reporter in Rajveer's case) or to Aurelia, if the shell accounts and trafficking made it to InterPol successfully.
Devika paced the corridors, phone in hand, emerald saree exchanged for a simple t-shirt, her usual regal composure cracked at the edges.
Tara sat in the living room, elegant and silent, staring out the tall windows with unseeing eyes, her Parisian blue saree from the previous night long discarded for something softer and darker.
Rajeev called again in the late afternoon.
The phone rang shrilly on the main line. None of them picked up.
Devika stared at the device as it vibrated on the coffee table. "It's him again."
Vedika didn't look up from her laptop. "Let it ring. Ishaani isn't here. What are we supposed to tell him? That his youngest daughter ran away because we drove her out? Because we slapped her? Because we couldn't stop tearing each other apart?"
Devika rubbed her temples, voice tight. "We can't keep avoiding him forever. He'll be on the next flight if we don't answer."
Tara spoke from the window, voice low and controlled. "Then answer. Tell him the truth. Ishaani is safe. She's with Nayonica. She needs space. We all do."
Vedika let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "The truth?
The truth is we failed her. Again. You staged a scandal that put her in the middle of violence, Didi slapped her when she defended you, and I.
.. I said things I can't take back. And now she's gone.
What are we supposed to do, Tara? Keep pretending we're a family while everything falls apart around us? "
Devika's eyes flashed. "We fix it. That's what we do. We give her time, we apologize when she's ready, and we stop ripping each other open every five minutes. But ignoring Papa won't make this better."
The phone rang again. And again.
None of them moved to answer it.
By evening, the calls had stopped. The house settled into an uneasy quiet, broken only by the occasional sigh or the soft clink of a teacup and no one slept well that night.
The front doors slammed open at dawn as Rajeev Rajvanshi stormed in with Sneha Rajvanshi close behind, suitcase wheels clicking sharply against the marble like gunshots. His face was thunderous, tailored shirt wrinkled from the overnight flight, eyes bloodshot with rage and exhaustion.
"Where is she?" he demanded, voice booming through the foyer. "Where the hell is my daughter?"
Devika and Vedika appeared from the hallway, faces drawn. Tara stood at the top of the stairs, silent and watchful.
Sneha tried to calm him, hand on his arm. "Rajeev, breathe. Let them explain."
"Explain?" Rajeev laughed, a harsh, ugly sound.
"I leave for Monaco and come back to this circus?
Aurobindo Sen arrested? My youngest daughter punching people and kissing Tara Kapoor on camera for the whole world to see?
I want her home. Now. Devika, Tara — go get her.
Drag her back if you have to. This nonsense ends today. "
He was already moving toward the door again, phone in hand. "I'm going to the police station myself. Aurobindo might be a bastard, but this public humiliation cannot stand. The family name is being dragged through the mud because of your recklessness."
Vedika's eyes suddenly narrowed. She pulled out her phone discreetly and typed a quick message to C1PH3R:
Rushing to the police about Aurobindo. Monitor all of their movements.
Devika stepped forward, voice steady but strained. "Papa, Ishaani isn't here. She left that night. She's safe, but she needs space. We can't force her home."
Rajeev whirled on her. "Space? She doesn't get space. She's a child. My child. And you let her run wild with Tara's influence. This is your fault. All of you need to fix it and bring her back home before I do it myself."
Sneha looked between them, worry etched deep into her features. "Rajeev, please. Shouting won't bring her back faster." But Rajeev was already heading out again, barking orders into his phone about drivers and police contacts.
The door slammed shut behind him and Sneha.
The women left standing in the foyer exchanged heavy, exhausted glances. The storm had only just begun.
The morning after Rajeev's explosive return dawned grey and unforgiving, the Delhi sky heavy with clouds that mirrored the tension thickening inside the Rajvanshi mansion.
The air in the main study felt stifling, thick with the scent of strong coffee, old books, and the faint metallic residue of unresolved rage.
Rajeev Rajvanshi paced the length of the room like a caged lion, phone pressed to his ear, voice smooth but edged with steel as he spoke to his lawyers.
Sneha sat on the edge of the sofa, elegant in her cream saree, worry lines etched deep between her brows.
Devika and Vedika stood near the window, shoulders tense, faces drawn from another sleepless night.
Tara lingered by the bookshelf, silent and watchful, her expression unreadable.
Rajeev ended the call with a sharp click and turned to his daughters, eyes blazing.
"I've spoken to Aurobindo," he said, voice low and controlled, the kind of tone that commanded rooms without raising volume.
"He told me everything. That woman — Tara — lured him into his private study.
She practically threw herself at him, loosened her own saree, and then screamed like a victim when he responded to her advances.
This was a setup. A deliberate, malicious trap to destroy a good man's reputation. "
Devika's jaw clenched. "Papa, that's not—"
Rajeev raised a hand, cutting her off with effortless authority.
"Don't. He is a man of noble character. He has two daughters.
He funds hospitals, schools, and women's programs. And you — all of you — allowed this circus to unfold.
Tara Kapoor has been nothing but a curse on this family for the last decade.
First with Vedika, now with Ishaani. She brings chaos wherever she goes.
I want her out of this house by tonight.
And you two — stop this ridiculous investigation into the Sahastra Alliance.
It ends now. We will not taint the family name any further for the sake of your personal vendettas. "
Vedika stepped forward, voice trembling with barely contained fury. "You're defending him? After what he tried to do to Tara? After what Ishaani saw? You're choosing reputation over truth again, Papa. Over your own daughter's safety."
Rajeev's smile was beautiful, almost sorrowful — the mask of a man who believed every word he spoke.
"Truth? My dear girl, truth is rarely simple.
Aurobindo told me the girl — Tara — was provocative.
She led him on. And when things escalated, she cried wolf.
Classic. I expected better judgment from you, Vedika.
You're a lawyer. You know how these things work.
One moment of weakness exploited for maximum damage. "
Devika's hands curled into fists at her sides. "Weakness? He had her pinned against the desk. He tore at her clothes. Ishaani saw it. We all saw the aftermath. And you're standing here defending him because it protects your business interests?"
Sneha spoke softly from the sofa, voice wavering. "Girls... listen to your father. He's only trying to protect this family. We've already lost so much. Ishaani running away, the media circus, the arrest... enough is enough."
Vedika laughed, sharp and broken. "Protect the family? Or protect the men who line your pockets? You've always chosen them over us, Papa. Always."
Rajeev's expression remained calm, almost paternal, the eloquence wielding reason like a blade.
"I have built this empire for you. For all of you.
Every deal, every alliance, every careful step — it was for your future.
And now you want to burn it down because of one reckless night?
Because Tara decided to play hero? No. I will not allow it.
Tara leaves today. She will mess up all of your futures, everything that you and I have worked for.
The investigation should stop and when Ishaani returns, we will speak to her like civilized people. No more drama. No more scandals."
Devika opened her mouth to argue, but exhaustion and the weight of days of fighting drained the fire from her voice. Vedika looked ready to explode, but even she faltered under the smooth, rational onslaught — Rajeev's words wrapping around logic like silk over steel.
Tara, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. Her voice was cool, precise. "I noticed something that night. In his study. There was a safe behind the false panel. The way he reacted when I mentioned the private markets — it wasn't just ego. There's more there. We can use it."
Vedika didn't even look at her. "We've had enough of your 'noticed' moments, Tara. You've brought us enough bullshit and misfortune. Just... stop."
Devika rubbed her face wearily. "Tara... maybe it's better if you give us some space. We're already stretched thin. We can handle this from here...." Devika caught Vedika's eyes and blinked once, "....Separately."
Tara's expression didn't change, but something flickered behind her eyes.
This project meant more to Tara than her own parents and just to push her out of the premise seemed rather shallow for even the sisters, and that, too, over something as trivial as anger and frustration, all because she loved their youngest sister.
She wanted to yell that she was the one who got C1PH3R on the plan, she was the one who pushed Vedika to take up this case over more than an year ago, she was the one who resolved her ego, her arrogance and her elitism to ask Ishicka Sen for help and at last, she was the one who was successful enough to get Aurobindo behind bars.
She knew it for a fact that if she had been able to do it once, she'd absolutely do it twice—she didn't need anyone.
She was Tara Avanthika Kapoor.
No one could outpace her and absolutely no way was she not already 4 steps ahead of Vedika's puny and uneventful plans.
Hence, Tara simply nodded once, elegant and composed. "Of course."
As she turned to leave, Vedika spoke quietly, almost reluctantly. "Tara... I'm not mad at you. I was just surprised. We can put an end to this."
I WILL put an end to this. Don't worry your pretty little head, Vedi.
Tara paused at the door, offering a small, tired smile. "You too."
The door closed softly behind her.
The study fell into heavy silence once more, the weight of Rajeev's words, the exhaustion, and the growing fractures settling over the three women like ash after a fire.
Tara got into her Hellcat with her laptop, iPad and her phone, she didn't care for anything else for they were useless assets to her.
She didn't ignite the car to life, unsure of where to go, not what to do.
She didn't have her old apartment keys with her, seeing as they were with the family lawyer and she didn't wish to meet the man.
She huffed out a breath as she looked around her car, when suddenly something stood out to her—a note peeking out of the glove compartment.
Her hand involuntarily grazed the paper and pulled it out of there.
She looked at the faintly vanishing lipstick mark on the folded region—Hers—Rouge Pur Couture in N13.
She knew deep down the elements of the letter, after all she had memorized it all the moment she had been given it. However, she felt the urge to read it once again;
The fools devouring the Moon,
Wouldn't realize your love any soon
For you're far too untameable,
Yet I dream you too lovable;
The scalding of your touch,
Few scars along my arms, not much
Under your gaze and blaze,
Shone they too like liquid gold's maze;
Your gaze through the branches,
Or your silhouette against the Church
Even a scarce sight,
Winning against all my might;
For you, I'd be Icarus,
Taking your heat for a mirage of us
I'd worship your life, old and new
No matter how I saw you in life
Both – my Sun and my Wife;
Tara breathed in one more time, as she shoved the note back in the glove compartment.
She slumped against the seat, closing her eyes and regulating her breathing.
Reading it had not felt enough, she needed it engraved into her but right then, she simply needed to hear it again.
Her car roared to life as she swiftly rolled out of the Rajvanshi manor's driveway to the one place she knew she'd be welcome even when she had committed a murder.
Nothing else compared then apart from the building in front of her.
DING!
"Hey"
"Tara?"