CHAPTER II IRA
The afternoon in Nayonica Sen's apartment had curdled into something heavier, almost oppressive.
The deep maroon walls, usually warm and enveloping, now seemed to absorb the light, and turn it into shadow.
The geometric gold trim caught the slanting sun in sharp, accusing lines, like bars across a cage.
Nayonica moved through her space with quiet unease, adjusting cushions and pouring fresh chai, but even she could feel the storm gathering.
She loved having guests — the chaos, the voices, the life — but today the air was thick with something far more dangerous than tension.
Devika and Vedika had arrived twenty minutes earlier. Their apologies had come first — stiff, exhausted and sincere in their own fractured way.
"I was terrified for you," Devika had said, voice low. "I let fear make me cruel. I'm sorry, Ishi."
Vedika had added, eyes glassy, "We never should have turned on you like that. You're our baby. We'll fix this when the dust settles. Promise."
Ishaani had accepted their words with a small nod, standing between Tara and the rest like a bridge already straining under weight.
But then Tara had spoken, and everything shattered.
Tara stood near the brass lamp, her posture regal even in borrowed clothes, voice calm and surgical as she laid out the plan.
"Rajeev trusts only Ishaani, and we have to use that.
She becomes the perfect daughter. She agrees with his views on women, on family, on everything.
She puts you both beneath her in his eyes.
She makes him believe she's the only one who understands.
Then he'll talk, and like the stupid man he is, he'll confess everything. "
The silence that followed was violent.
Devika's face twisted first. "Have you lost your mind?" Her voice rose, sharp as shattered glass. "You want my baby sister to sit there and nod while our father spews his poison about women knowing their place? You want her to betray us to his face? To smile while he humiliates us?"
Vedika stepped forward, eyes blazing with pure wrath.
"This is insane, Tara. You're asking Ishaani to become everything we've fought against. You're turning her into his perfect little puppet.
After everything she's been through — the kidnapping, the hospital, the public scandal — you want her to perform loyalty to the man who nearly destroyed us all? "
Devika's hands clenched into fists. "No. Absolutely not. I won't allow it. She's already carried enough. You've asked her to bleed for you once. Now you want her to carve out pieces of her soul?"
Vedika's voice cracked with fury. "This isn't strategy, Tara. This is cruelty wrapped in clever words. You're using the person who loves you most as a sacrificial lamb. How dare you?"
The room crackled with their anger. Nayonica stood frozen near the kitchen archway. Ishicka watched from the sofa with a raised eyebrow, intrigued but silent—she was strictly there to observe, and to record. Ishaani stood very still, absorbing every word like blows.
Tara remained composed, but her jaw was tight. "It's the only way he'll open up. He sees you two as threats. He sees me as poison. But Ishaani—"
"Enough," Devika snapped. "She is not your weapon."
Ishaani spoke up only when she had weighed out all of the options, Tara's intention with this approach. Her voice, when it came, was quiet at first. Then it built — steady, fierce, trembling with the weight of everything she had carried.
"Stop."
The single word cut through the room like a blade.
She looked at her sisters, eyes bright with unshed tears but burning with conviction.
"You think I don't know what this will cost me?
I do. I know I'll have to sit there and smile while Dadda talks about how women are too emotional, too weak, too dangerous when they think for themselves.
I know I'll have to nod when he calls you both reckless and ungrateful.
I know I'll have to pretend I agree with everything he stands for. "
Her voice cracked, but she pushed on.
"But I also know that if we keep fighting him head-on, he'll bury everything deeper.
He'll send you away. He'll destroy what's left of this family.
And the girls who are still suffering because of Sahastra — they'll keep suffering.
I'm tired of watching people I love break.
I'm tired of being protected while everyone else bleeds. "
She turned to Tara, eyes soft but resolute.
"I choose this. Not because I'm weak. Not because I'm blindly in love.
But because I understand what's at stake.
If pretending to be his perfect daughter ends this nightmare, then I'll do it.
I'll smile. I'll lie. I'll become whatever he needs me to be.
Because I'm not just your baby sister anymore.
The day she pulled me into Aurobindo's study was the day you made me a part of this. "
The room fell into stunned silence.
Devika's shoulders sagged first. Vedika looked away, jaw working, tears glistening in her eyes.
Ishicka finally spoke, voice smooth and dangerous. "And I'll steer him from the other side. As his associate, I can redirect conversations. Plant doubts. I'm very good at manipulation."
Vedika and Devika unanimously deadpanned, "We all know that."
Tara stepped closer to Ishaani, hand brushing hers — a silent thank you, a quiet claim.
The plan was no longer a suggestion.
It was a pact.
And in that golden-lit room, with wrath slowly giving way to reluctant acceptance, the Rajvanshi sisters stood on the edge of something irreversible.
The Rajvanshi mansion office smelled of aged teak, expensive leather, and the faint, acrid bite of Cuban cigars that Rajeev Rajvanshi only smoked when he believed he had already won.
Late morning light slanted through heavy velvet drapes, casting long, golden blades across the Persian rug and the massive mahogany desk that dominated the room like a throne.
Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with leather-bound volumes on business, philosophy, and history — carefully curated to project wisdom rather than reveal the man behind the mask.
Ishaani stood at the threshold for a moment, heart hammering against her ribs like a caged bird desperate for flight.
The Bluetooth earpiece hidden in her delicate gold earring felt like a live wire against her skin.
Tara, Devika, and Vedika were listening on the other end — silent witnesses to the performance she was about to give.
She took a breath, squared her small shoulders, and stepped inside.
"Papa," she said softly, voice pitched low and respectful, the way a dutiful offspring might speak to her father.
Rajeev looked up from his papers. For a split second, anger flashed across his face — sharp, paternal disappointment. "Ishaani. You finally decided to show your face after running off like a disobedient child?"
Ishaani lowered her gaze, the picture of contrition. She crossed the room slowly, stopping in front of his desk like a penitent before an altar.
"I'm sorry, Dadda," she said, the childhood nickname slipping out with perfect sincerity. "I was angry and confused. I let my sisters fill my head with nonsense. I shouldn't have left. It was weak of me."
Rajeev's expression flickered. The anger softened, just a fraction, as he studied her — small, composed, eyes downcast in the way he had always taught his children to show respect.
Ishaani pressed on, voice steady but laced with the right amount of youthful regret.
"Vedika and Devika... they've become impossible, Papa.
Always fighting you. Always thinking they know better.
They dragged me into their mess, made me believe their version of things.
But I see it now. You were right. They've become too headstrong, too full of themselves.
They don't understand what it means to honour family. To honour you."
Ishicka let out a low, delighted laugh. "Oh, she's good. Cold-blooded little thing."
She lifted her eyes just enough to meet his, letting a small, conspiratorial smile touch her lips.
"You are so right about them, Dadda."
The shift in Rajeev was visible. The tension in his shoulders eased. He leaned back in his leather chair, studying her with new interest — the way a man might look at a mirror that suddenly reflected a younger, sharper version of himself.
"You sound different," he said, voice warming. "More like the child I raised."
Ishaani took the opening, stepping closer, her voice dropping into something almost intimate.
"Tara..." She let the name hang for a moment, then wrinkled her nose with calculated disdain. "That woman is a lesbo cougar, Papa."
The room exploded.
Nayonica chuckled, "Wait! That wasn't even in the script....Why is this bitch improvising?"
Vedika was pacing, practically reading Ishaani's dialogues like a Sylvia Plath hardbound, "She knows him well, she knows what will get a rise out of him. Lesbo cougar is funny though?"
Tara shot up from the sofa, almost offended. "Lesbo cougar?! I will kill her."
Devika pressed a hand to her forehead. "Ishaani Rajvanshi, we should've sent you to Bollywood instead of the top university in Delhi."
Ishaani completely ignored the cacophony in her ear, "She came after me.
Manipulated me when I was vulnerable. I don't give a fuck about her.
You know me — I only care about my academics, my boxing, my writing.
I don't even deem most people equal to me, Dad.
She was just... a distraction. A mistake. "
Tara's voice was velvet-wrapped steel. "If she calls me a cougar one more time, I'm going to remind her exactly who crawled into whose bed first."
Rajeev's eyes lit up with something close to pride. He let out a low chuckle, the sound rich and satisfied, like a man who had finally found the heir he had always wanted.
"Ah, Ish," he said, leaning forward, voice warm with affection. "I always knew God got a little confused when He made you a girl. You have the mind of a son. The ambition. The clarity. You are exactly what I always wanted."
He reached across the desk and patted her hand, the gesture paternal and approving.
Ishicka was laughing openly now, elegant and wicked. "This is better than the theatre. Keep going, little queen. Daddy's almost eating out of your hand."
"Don't worry, beta. I'm not mad anymore. Now that that Tara woman is gone, and your sisters have stopped being such freeloaders, we can finally have peace in this house. Just you and me. The way it should be."
Devika groaned. "She's going to need therapy after this. We all are."
Nayonica finally laughed outright. "But mostly... I'm impressed. She sold it."
Ishaani smiled — small, obedient, perfect.
Inside her chest, something cracked.
But on the surface, she was flawless.
On the other end of the hidden earpiece, the silence from Tara, Devika, and Vedika was deafening.
Tara leaned closer to the speaker, voice low and dangerous. "Ishaani. When you come back, you are going to get on your knees and apologize for every improvised dialogue. And then I'm going to remind you exactly who chased who."
Two days later, the Singhania party unfolded like a fever dream wrapped in crystal and malice.
It was held at the sprawling hilltop estate of one of Rajeev's oldest business associates — a monument to excess perched above Delhi, where the city lights glittered far below like scattered diamonds on black velvet.
Chandeliers the size of small cars dripped with Baccarat crystal, casting fractured rainbows across marble floors so polished they reflected the guests like mirrors.
Waiters in crisp white jackets moved like ghosts, carrying trays of vintage champagne and delicate canapés that cost more per bite than most people's monthly rent.
The air smelled of oud, fresh roses, expensive perfume, and the faint metallic tang of power.
Rajeev Rajvanshi moved through the crowd like a king holding court, one hand resting possessively on Ishaani's shoulder.
She wore a tailored beige suit with a crisp white shirt — masculine enough to please him, feminine enough to turn heads.
Sparshi's Meta Ray-Bans sat on her nose, sleek and unassuming, feeding everything she saw directly to C1PH3R.
In her ear, Tara's voice was a constant, velvet anchor.
"You're doing so well, Bambi," Tara murmured, low and soothing. "Breathe for me. You look breathtaking. Remember — you're his pride tonight. Stay calm. I'm right here with you."
Ishaani's heart steadied slightly at the sound.
Sneha Rajvanshi approached them near the marble fountain, elegant in a champagne-colored saree that made her look no older than thirty-five despite being forty-four.
Her makeup was flawless, her posture impeccable, but her eyes carried the quiet exhaustion of a woman who had perfected the art of looking untouched by the world's ugliness.
"Ishi, beta," Sneha said, voice soft with that polished upper-class lilt — every syllable rounded, every word chosen like fine jewellery.
She reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Ishaani's face.
"Were you okay, my darling? I feel like such a terrible mother for never checking on you properly after.
.. everything. Shona, I should have been there more. "
Ishaani felt the words like a hook in her chest. For a split second, the real Ishaani wanted to collapse into her mother's arms. She felt like she was faking the most crucial part of herself, and that surely slithered a chain around her heart which squeezed until she couldn't breathe.
She was the one kid who used to smile brighter than the Sun when she saw her mother, so faking this one part was hard for Ishaani.
But she wasn't here as herself tonight.
She straightened, adopting the cool, dismissive tone of someone who had internalized superiority like second nature.
"I'm good, Mom," she said flatly, almost bored.
Mom? Sneha couldn't help but notice. Hasn't it always been Mumma?
"You don't need to worry about it. I handled everything myself.... Like I always do." Ishaani replied listlessly.
Sneha's hand froze mid-air. Hurt flickered across her perfectly made-up face, but she masked it quickly with a small, graceful smile.
"Of course, baby. If that's what you want."
Rajeev watched the exchange with visible approval, patting Ishaani's shoulder. "That's my girl."
"Gentlemen, this is my youngest — Ishaani. Sharp as a blade, this one. She understands real business, as will be handling all of mine."
The men smiled, appraising her like livestock at auction. Their sons — polished, arrogant, dressed in tailored suits — stepped forward one by one.
Tara's voice turned lethal in Ishaani's ear. "That one with the greasy hair? If he looks at you like that again, I will personally remove his eyes."
Devika: "The tall one is staring at your chest. Ishi, knee him in the balls. I don't care if it blows our cover."
Vedika, laughing bitterly: "Look at them circling like vultures. Papa's parading you like prime cattle. I'm going to vomit."
Ishicka's amused drawl cut in. "The short one with the Rolex? His father owes me money. Tell him his son has the personality of wet cardboard."
Vedika rolled her eyes at Ishicka's dry statement, "Not the time for that Ishicka."
Tara again, darker: "Smile, Bambi. I know you want to barf."
Ishaani kept her face neutral, nodding politely as Rajeev boasted.
"This one here," Rajeev said, gesturing to a tall, slick-haired young man, "is the heir to the Singhania shipping empire. Good family. Would make a fine match, no?"
The boy smiled at Ishaani with blatant interest.
Ishaani maintained her composure, offering the boy a small, cold nod — the perfect blend of disinterest and superiority.
Rajeev beamed, squeezing her shoulder. "See? She knows quality when she sees it."
Tara's final murmur in her ear was soft, possessive, and laced with dark promise:
You know this game so perfectly, I'm almost impressed, Ishi.
Ishaani turned her head away under the pretence of looking for her mother, and mumbled: "What can I say? I learnt from the best, Ms. Kapoor"
The reaction was immediate and explosive.
Tara, who had been leaning forward in her seat with predatory focus, went perfectly still. A slow, dangerous smile curved her lips. Her hazel eyes darkened with heat.
Devika let out a shocked laugh, covering her mouth. "Did she just—? She called her Ms. Kapoor like she's some corporate fantasy."
Vedika stared at the speaker in disbelief, then burst out laughing. "Ishaani Rajvanshi, you little shit. You're out there playing the perfect daughter and flirting with your girlfriend in the middle of Papa's matchmaking session. I can't decide if I'm horrified or proud."
"When you get home, Bambi," she purred, slow and deliberate, "I'll remind you exactly who taught you everything you know."
Devika groaned, covering her ears dramatically. "I did not need to hear that."
Vedika threw a cushion at Tara. "Control your horny sadism for five minutes. My baby sister is out there risking her life, and you're threatening to edge her through an earpiece."
Ishicka chuckled, swirling her wine. "Let her have her fun. The girl just called her girlfriend 'Ms. Kapoor' in front of her father, who is trying to marry her off. That's legendary. She deserves a reward."
Ishaani's ears burned beneath the Ray-Bans. Heat flooded her face and lower, her thighs pressing together instinctively. She kept her expression perfectly neutral as Rajeev continued parading her around, but her heart was racing.
The night air outside the Singhania estate was cool and fragrant with night-blooming jasmine and the faint metallic tang of luxury exhaust. Crystal chandeliers still glittered behind them like distant stars as Rajeev Rajvanshi stood beneath the grand portico, one hand resting heavily on Ishaani's shoulder with paternal pride.
The valet had just brought forward a sleek, matte-black Range Rover — new, aggressive, and obscenely expensive.
Black cars are so overrated....people have lost taste. Ishaani heard her inner voice chat with her. Tara could never go so basic with colours, she thought.
"You did well tonight, beta," Rajeev said, voice warm and approving. "You made your father proud. Take the car and drive yourself home. You've earned it."
Ishaani lowered her gaze in perfect deference, the picture of a dutiful son in daughter's clothing. "Thank you, Papa. I won't disappoint you."
Rajeev nodded, satisfied, and gestured to his waiting driver. "Take me home. I have calls to make."
As the Mercedes pulled away smoothly into the night, Ishaani slid into the driver's seat of the new Rover. The leather smelled of fresh luxury and quiet power. She waited until the taillights disappeared around the bend, then let out a long, shaky breath that trembled with relief and adrenaline.
Instead of turning toward the Rajvanshi mansion, she took the longer route — the winding, quieter roads that led toward Nayonica Sen's apartment.