Chapter 29 Silk Over Scars
The sky outside mirrored the mood inside - thick with static, sullen with storm. Rain hovered but didn't fall. Like it was waiting.
Inside the boardroom, urgency pulsed like electricity.
Assistants moved like chess pieces - files, phones, caffeine, whispered damage reports.
The long oval table was packed edge to edge investors, legal sharks, Ambani delegates, and the full Agnivanshi core.
Not one empty seat. Not one breath wasted.
The tension was glacial slow, crushing, and impossible to escape. Even the central air gave up trying.
At the head of the table, Abhay Agnivanshi sat motionless. Fingers steepled, eyes rimmed with exhaustion but still lit with that cold-blooded control. The kind that made men listen.
He spoke, voice low and firm, slicing through the buzz.
"As most of you are now aware, there was a system wide malfunction in our New York branch's core AI unit last night."
No soft lead in. No sugar.
"That glitch exposed confidential IPs and worse, it auto-synced corrupted analytics straight into our Mumbai grid. Every portfolio that was live went blind. For ten hours."
A ripple. Murmurs. A few sharp inhales.
"That's billions in assets..." someone whispered, not loud enough to take credit for it.
Abhay didn't blink.
"The damage control team is already deployed. But until stability is confirmed, we've halted all non critical ops. Every project. Every tier. Under review."
The silence cracked. Vayu Ambani leaned forward jaw tight, eyes razor thin. His fingers tapped the polished wood, slow and dangerous. "This isn't a PR hiccup, Abhay Uncle. It's an operational implosion. The Ambanis have 27% in your offshore chain. Why did we find out from Bloomberg?"
Abhay's expression didn't change. He had expected this. Probably counted down to it. Then came Iva voice even, but sharp enough to draw blood. "How did it override the firewall and two-factor auth? Isn't your cybersecurity team ex-MI6 level?"
The flicker in Abhay's eyes was almost invisible. Almost.
She wasn't here to grandstand. She was cutting through the bullshit. He knew it.
"We're investigating a leak," he replied. "Likely internal. Someone with sandbox access. Cross-referencing logs now."
Investor voices rose like a tide.
"Are you saying this was sabotage?"
"Not a glitch. That's corporate warfare."
A storm of half-truths and panic surged but Virya Ambani broke it with a glance. He turned to Iva, who hadn't broken her stare with Abhay once.
"So," she said quietly. "Are we freezing projects temporarily? Or indefinitely?"
"Temporarily," Abhay said. "But under new conditions. Every project, Ambani included, will face re-evaluation. End to end."
The room dimmed slightly as thunder rolled outside - low and guttural, like the city itself was listening in. The lights flickered once. No one moved.
Until someone did.
A leather chair creaked. The sound cut through the boardroom like a warning.
Rudra Agnivanshi stood, dressed in black, sleeves rolled, cuffs undone just enough to suggest control without effort. He walked toward the floor-to-ceiling window, hands in his pockets.
He didn't turn around when he spoke. "The breach wasn't random," he said.
His voice was low, calculated. "We traced it through multiple layers of masking.
The origin point was Arkhangelsk." He paused.
Just long enough to let the word settle.
"Off-grid tech. Experimental nodes. Not something you find unless someone wants to stay invisible.
" His eyes didn't waver. "This was deliberate.
Whoever did it knew our architecture. Intimately. "
Raghav Agnivanshi always quiet, always in the shadows leaned forward.
His voice sounded like gravel under pressure.
"Not just criminals," he said. "These guys hit Seoul.
Milan. Zurich. But this time... they used code that mirrored our own.
Our encryption. Our architecture." He looked at Abhay.
"Either someone sold us out. Or someone got stupid. "
Vayu cracked his knuckles a tic everyone in the room recognized as a warning. His fury was always clean, always efficient. "If this is internal," he said coldly, "we don't need patches. We need nuclear grade lockdown."
Virya nodded once. "And we need it yesterday. What's the play?"
Rudra didn't go further. He turned back, walked calmly to the table, picked up the remote, and switched on the screen.
A chair shifted.
Only then did Rudra turn. Calm. Controlled. Calculated.
He walked back to the table, picked up a small remote, and tapped it.
The wall screen blinked to life.
A logo appeared: A white serpent devouring its own tail. Coiled around a jet black triangle. Below it two words, glowing in deep crimson: Vedēnra Grid
Rudra spoke like he was reading out a death sentence.
"The only AI firewall the U.S. government uses without full internal oversight. Passed CIA red team protocol with zero breaches. Not for sale. Not on grid. Invitation only."
He let it hang before finishing. "It costs a trillion dollars. Clean. To install it globally."
A pause. Then the room reacted.
Someone choked on their breath. Someone else dropped their pen. One investor leaned back like he needed distance from the number.
"That's... that's more than the GDP of half the world," one of them whispered.
Raghav shrugged slightly. "And worth it if you want this empire to keep breathing."
Rudra's voice dropped. "We already sent the request."
A pause.
"And it was accepted."
Another beat.
Raghav's smile was bitter. "If the CIA signs off, it means we're not buying a firewall. We're buying a leash. But that's the price now. We either wear it... or we burn."
Virya didn't blink. "When do we go live?"
Rudra smiled faintly barely a curve. "Next week. Integration begins Monday."
Finally, Abhay spoke. His voice carried weight. Cold thunder in a suit.
"This meeting is adjourned. From this second forward, no one breathes a word about Vedēnra Grid. Not to staff. Not to family. Not even to God."
He stood. "Anyone who leaks this - disappears."
Chairs scraped back. No one argued.
There were only nods. Quiet, uneasy, heavy with suspicion.
Iva shut her file slowly. Slid it into her bag like it was a weapon. Gave Virya one sharp nod. Then walked out - heels echoing like gunshots.
One by one, they left. Like soldiers retreating from a silent battlefield.
The sky had cracked open hours ago. Rain fell in sheets, blurring the windshield like someone trying to erase the world outside. The inside of Rudra's matte-black Maybach was cocooned in hush the low purr of the engine, the subtle hum of the air vents, and Iva's shallow breathing.
Her head rested against the leather. Eyes shut. Mind buzzing but slowly fading into blankness.
She hadn't slept in nearly two days.
A full night with Adwait - every memory sharper than reality.
A full day of crisis - tech sabotage, boardroom war, and a half-collapsed empire.
And still, Rū by Iva x Agnivanshi had to breathe. Had to shine. Had to be unbreakable.
Maya had finally gone home after hours of tense coordination with the US Fashion Week team, only after Iva swore she'd be fine. Rudra had promised to drop her home himself - calm, casual. That low, effortless charisma she had always distrusted.
She barely registered the sudden stop.
Rudra's voice cut through her half-sleep.
"Iva, I need to take this call. There's a network dead zone here. I'll step out for just a minute. Be right back."
She murmured a half-conscious "okay," not even opening her eyes.
The door clicked shut behind him. Rain grew louder, drumming against the car roof. A distant rumble of thunder answered.
Then - the other door opened.
Not Rudra's side.
Her brows furrowed. That wasn't right.
Before she could turn, a hand clamped over her mouth. Another yanked her wrist. Hard.
Her eyes flew open, panic, raw and unfiltered.
She thrashed, but there were too many of them - shadows in the rain, soaked and silent. Gloves. Hoods. Precision. No shouting. No threats.
Just cold execution.
She kicked, twisted, managed to claw at one arm until someone grabbed her other wrist and slammed it against the seat. She tried to bite the hand covering her mouth but it just pressed harder, fingers bruising her cheek.
Then, her watch was torn off. Her phone ripped from her bag. Her AirPods case crushed and tossed onto the floor. Digital silence. No trace.
Her scream swallowed by the palm still crushing her voice.
Rain masked the struggle. The street was empty. Lights off. Just trees, shadows, and the distant blur of Rudra still on his call, under a tree, his back turned.
She tried to look at him, to signal. Her body writhed with silent desperation. But the man holding her head locked it in place, like he knew what she'd try.
Then someone jabbed a needle sharp, fast, brutal into her thigh.
Pain flared. Then... numbness.
Not sleep. Not unconsciousness.
Dull detachment.
Her limbs still moved, but like they were underwater. Heavy. Wrong.
She was dragged across the seat, out the opposite side, her heels slipping against the wet asphalt.
The rain didn't help. Her hair stuck to her face, soaked and tangled. Her lungs heaved but nothing came out. The drug was working fast.
In a blur of motion, they shoved her into the back of another car, a white SUV with no plates. Someone threw a heavy tarp over her. The door slammed shut.
Gone.
Clean.
Silent.
The Maybach sat still.
Empty.
Unalarmed.
Rain poured over it like nothing had happened.
Across the street, under the tree, Rudra turned - call finished.
He looked back at the Maybach, wiped rain from his face... and smiled faintly.
Then he began walking back to the car.
Rudra stood by the Maybach, the rain softening into a drizzle now, like the sky itself was exhausted from screaming.
He looked down at Iva's things - her watch, phone, the little ring she wore on her thumb that had fallen onto the seat during the struggle.
He bent down, picked it up slowly, and slipped it into his coat pocket.
His lips curled into a slow, deliberate smile.
"Now your hero will come to save you, Iva..." he whispered, voice as gentle as poison. "But first, you'll feel what pain really means. Then you'll understand - only I can save you. Only I ever could. You were pampered too much, princess. It's time... to marry me."
With one last look at the mess left behind, he slid into the car and drove off into the shadows, disappearing into the night like a wolf slipping into the forest.
Rudra stood by the Maybach, the rain softening into a drizzle now, like the sky itself was exhausted from screaming.
It was an hour later when Maya stepped out of the drawing room, rubbing her temples, her tablet still syncing calls from stylists in L.A.
She frowned. They should've been home by now.
She dialed Iva.
No answer.
She called Rudra.
He picked up, voice smooth but laced with mock surprise.
"What? I thought she reached already. I just stepped out to take a call. She was in the car. I assumed she left while I was outside."
Maya's chest tightened. "You assumed?"
She hung up and immediately called Iva's personal security detail.
"Ma'am... Rudra sir instructed us to leave. Said it was raining and he'd personally drop her."
Her voice cracked. "You left her alone?"
She reached the main Agnivanshi control center and yelled, "Check Rudra's route. Trace her devices."
"Ma'am... all digital signals were cut off. Her phone, watch, tracker- all went offline around 12:04 a.m."
A silence fell so heavy it shattered something inside her.
Just then, Abhay and Divya entered. Both froze at the sight of Maya's face.
"What now?" Abhay asked. "We're already under fire with the business collapse-"
"She's gone," Maya said, her voice a fragile whisper. "Iva's missing."
Divya gasped. "What do you mean missing?!"
Devaki, Raghav, Raha, everyone began swarming the hallways - calling in favors, reaching out to private intel sources, dialing contacts in surveillance.
Maya rushed to Vayu's room, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.
"Vayu... Vayu, it's Iva," she breathed.
He stood up instantly.
Virya was already there. Then Viren Ambani.
He came out of his private chamber, phone in hand, face pale but eyes burning.
"Get my security. The full task force. No media leaks. Shut down all external communications. I want every camera, every drone, every informant in this city activated."
Everyone was in motion except Maya.
She turned and silently made her way to the West Wing. Her steps light. Her hands trembling.
She stood before Maria's door.
Maria opened the door and saw Maya's face, she didn't need to ask.
She took Maya by the hand and led her to the room with the three knocks only Adwait responded to.
"Yes, Maria? What's the matter?"
The door opened. Adwait was seated at his desk, reading.
When he saw Maya, he immediately stood up.
"It's Iva," Maya said. Her voice cracked. "She never came home."
Adwait's body stilled.
Every atom in the room changed.
"She was with Rudra, Adwait. She disappeared after he stepped out to make a call. Agnivanshi security was dismissed. Her tech is dead. She's gone."
Maya was nearly collapsing.
Adwait came to her and held her shoulders firmly. "Maya... go. Coordinate with the police, the internal team. She's with an Agnivanshi - not even air can vanish from their systems. They'll find her."
He smiled, but his eyes were already turning cold - calculating.
Maya was in the SUV before she could think. Her earpiece buzzed.
"RED has a location. Isolated warehouse. 17 minutes from Rudra's last known location. Sending coordinates."
She forwarded it to Iva's elite tactical team, then sped down the highway. She arrived.
Warehouse. Abandoned. Brick and rust.
The night was chokingly quiet.
She stepped in and her heart stopped.
Iva was tied to a chair. Mouth gagged. Blood on her lip. Wet hair plastered to her face. Hands bruised. Barefoot. Shaking.
Three men lay dead on the ground - her guards had already struck.
"IVA!" Maya cried out, running to her, hands trembling as she untied the ropes. "Iva, look at me.. look at me, sweetheart, it's okay..I'm here. we've got you." Tears fell from both their eyes.
Iva could barely speak. "Maya..." She broke down into sobs.
Maya held her tightly.
No cameras. No headlines. No one will know what she suffered... except those who will pay for it.
Maya gently led Iva into the car. She was soaked, shivering, eyes unfocused like her soul was still trapped back in that dark warehouse.
The car doors shut with a soft thud, sealing them in a heavy silence.
Maya wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and tried to steady her voice.
"Iva... are you okay?"
Iva stared out the window. Her lips trembled, but her spine straightened.
"I'm fine." Her voice was low, clipped and unnaturally composed.
Maya glanced at her, unsure whether to believe her or not. She wanted to cry, to scream at the universe for doing this to Iva again. But seeing Iva trying to hold herself together... she stayed strong.
The car was silent except for the soft hum of the engine and the muffled rain hitting the windows.
Iva sat in the back seat, curled slightly into herself. Her eyes were glassy, but her face was composed. That eerie stillness had returned like she'd locked every emotion behind a steel door. She kept playing with her red thread.
Maya kept glancing at her, heart heavy, fingers twitching on her lap.
Suddenly, Iva broke the silence. Her voice was low, almost fragile under its calm: "There's a first-aid kit in the glove box. Can you... clean this?" She held up her arm thin scratches on her wrist, a bruised line across her palm, some dried blood where the skin had split.
Maya swallowed hard and opened the kit. Her hands were steady, but her chest was tightening with every passing second.
She gently took Iva's hand. The skin was cold. She dabbed the scratches with antiseptic, careful not to hurt her though the pain clearly wasn't on Iva's mind.
"You'll need to cover this cut here," Maya whispered.
Iva didn't flinch. She just stared out the window.
"She's not even here," Maya thought. "She's somewhere else. Reliving it all."
The rest of the ride passed in eerie quiet. No tears. No words. Just memories flashing in Iva's mind like a broken reel, her last kidnapping years ago, the helplessness, the blindfolds, the screams. Now again. Different faces. Same fear. Same feeling of being broken.
Control it. Breathe. Don't let them see you shatter.
She closed her eyes. Pressed her fingers into her palm until they hurt.
As soon as the car pulled into the estate, the main doors flew open.
Viren Ambani rushed to the driveway, followed by Virya, Vayu, Devaki, and the rest of the family.
"Iva!" Viren pulled her into a fierce embrace. His voice cracked. "What happened to you?"
Iva didn't hug him back immediately. But then slowly placed a hand on his back.
When she pulled away, her expression had changed to calm, guarded, unreadable.
She smiled faintly. "Nothing, Dad. I went to a café for a coffee."
Maya's head whipped around. Her breath caught. What?
Rudra, who stood behind everyone, stiffened and stunned.
Vayu stepped forward, his voice sharp with disbelief. "What are you talking about? You were- missing!"
Iva turned to him with narrowed eyes, her tone slightly irritated. "I went to a café, Vayu. It was a long, horrible day. I just needed air. Needed to think. And how would I go missing when I was with Rudra Agnivanshi?" She looked directly at him. Smiled. "So Just a coffee. Alone."
Virya frowned. "But... Maya said-"
Iva cut him off. "Who said I was missing?" Her eyes flickered coldly for a second.
Viren looked at her bruises. "Then what are these cuts? This bruise on your"
She looked down at her hand and shrugged.
"It was raining. I slipped. Scratched my hand. The café owner, Jatin, helped. That's it."
There was a long, stretched silence.
It felt like a thick fog had descended. Everyone looked at one another. The fear began to lift. The police and security heads, already assembled at the estate, were quietly told to stand down. Officers met Viren, got a statement, and left.
Virya sighed with visible relief and hugged her tightly. "You scared the hell out of us, you know that?"
Iva didn't answer. "I'm just... tired." She gave a soft, practiced smile. "I'm going to sleep."
She turned and walked to her room, leaving everyone relieved but Maya stunned.
Turns out, trauma fits right under a designer coat - as long as you don't wrinkle the label
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