At 8:00 a.m., Aadhira Vardhan walked into the Rathore headquarters.

Every conversation stopped.

She didn't care.

The guards watched her.

Executives whispered.

Assistants stepped aside.

Nobody dared ask why the Crimson Queen had entered the territory of the Rathore King.

Aadhira walked straight toward the private elevator.

Nysa followed.

"You're really doing this?"

Aadhira pressed the button.

"We agreed to investigate together."

"You could have asked him to come to Vardhan headquarters."

Aadhira glanced sideways.

"He would have refused."

"Probably."

"And I don't like waiting."

The elevator doors opened.

Aadhira stepped inside.

Nysa followed.

The doors closed.

Neither noticed the man standing at the end of the corridor watching them.

Samar.

His hand rested casually inside his jacket.

His eyes followed the elevator until the numbers disappeared.

He didn't trust Aadhira.

He trusted nobody.

But there was something about the way she had walked into Rathore territory without a single visible sign of fear that made him understand why Adhiraj considered her dangerous.

The elevator opened on the top floor.

Adhiraj was waiting.

Black shirt.

Rolled sleeves.

A file in one hand.

His expression was cold.

Aadhira stepped out.

"You're late."

She looked at the clock.

"By thirty seconds."

"I don't like waiting."

"Neither do I."

Their eyes met.

The tension was immediate.

Nysa and Samar exchanged a glance.

Reyansh, who had just entered the corridor, smiled.

"Oh, this is going to be fun."

Adhiraj looked at him.

"Leave."

Reyansh grinned.

"Of course."

He turned toward Aadhira.

"Welcome to the family."

Aadhira raised an eyebrow.

"We're not family."

"Not yet."

Adhiraj's stare could have killed him.

Reyansh disappeared laughing.

Aadhira looked at Adhiraj.

"Your brother is irritating."

"Now you understand my suffering."

For half a second, she almost smiled.

Almost.

Then she remembered who he was.

"Let's work."

The conference room doors closed.

A massive screen illuminated the room.

Photographs appeared.

The two attacked convoys.

Dead guards.

Bullet casings.

The serpent symbol.

Aadhira stood beside the table.

Adhiraj stood opposite her.

Samar placed a folder down.

"Both attacks were carried out by the same group."

Aadhira looked at him.

"How do you know?"

"Same ammunition. Same weapons. Same formation."

Nysa added, "And the same insignia."

She placed the black fabric on the table.

The serpent.

Adhiraj studied it.

"Have you identified it?"

"No."

Aadhira shook her head.

"Neither have we."

Adhiraj opened another file.

"Then we're looking at an organization that has remained invisible for decades."

Aadhira's eyes narrowed.

"Not decades."

Everyone looked at her.

"Twenty-two years."

She placed an old photograph on the table.

A man stood beside a burning warehouse.

His face was partially obscured.

But the serpent emblem was visible on his ring.

Adhiraj stared at it.

His expression changed.

"Where did you get that?"

"My father's old records."

"Your father had this?"

"Yes."

Adhiraj reached for the photograph.

Their fingers touched.

Neither moved.

For a second, the room disappeared.

Aadhira looked at their hands.

Then at him.

Adhiraj withdrew first.

"Where?"

"An old storage facility."

"When?"

"Yesterday."

His eyes sharpened.

"So both families had the symbol."

"Looks like it."

Samar frowned.

"Then the organization existed before the current war."

Aadhira nodded.

"Which means..."

Adhiraj finished for her.

"The war may have been manufactured."

Silence.

Twenty-two years of hatred suddenly felt less certain.

Aadhira refused to accept it.

"There's still a problem."

Adhiraj looked at her.

"Our fathers."

"Exactly."

She folded her arms.

"Someone convinced both families that the other was responsible."

"And our parents believed it."

"Which means whoever did it had access to both sides."

Adhiraj's expression darkened.

"Someone close."

Three hours later, they had narrowed the search to seven names.

Former associates.

Business partners.

Political contacts.

People who had disappeared after the original attacks.

The seventh name made Aadhira stop.

Devendra Suri.

Her eyes hardened.

"He's dead."

Adhiraj looked at her.

"Officially."

She stared at the file.

"His body was never found."

Neither spoke.

Devendra Suri had been one of their fathers' most trusted financial advisers.

Twenty-two years ago, he had disappeared.

Aadhira remembered her mother mentioning his name once.

Adhiraj remembered his father ordering someone to erase every record connected to him.

"This isn't coincidence."

Adhiraj stood.

"Agreed."

Aadhira picked up the file.

"Find him."

"I will."

"No."

She looked directly at him.

"We will."

Adhiraj's mouth curved faintly.

"Still giving orders?"

"I always give orders."

"So do I."

"Then consider this a partnership."

"Temporary."

"Obviously."

Neither acknowledged the strange satisfaction they felt hearing the word partnership.

That evening, their first lead arrived.

A bank account had been activated in Dubai.

The account belonged to a company that officially didn't exist.

But money was moving through it.

Millions.

And the final transfer had been made six hours earlier.

Destination:

Mumbai.

Adhiraj immediately called Samar.

"Trace it."

"Already working."

Aadhira walked toward him.

"How long?"

"Twenty minutes."

"Too long."

Adhiraj glanced at her.

"Then do it yourself."

She gave him a look.

"You want me to?"

"I'd actually enjoy watching you fail."

Aadhira stepped closer.

"I don't fail."

"I've noticed."

Their faces were only inches apart.

Neither moved.

The silence suddenly became too intimate.

Aadhira's eyes dropped briefly to his mouth.

Adhiraj noticed.

Her eyes immediately returned to his.

Neither mentioned it.

Nysa cleared her throat.

"Twenty minutes."

They stepped apart.

Aadhira turned away.

"Get the account."

At 11:47 p.m., they found the address.

An abandoned textile factory.

Mumbai outskirts.

Adhiraj looked at the location.

"You're staying here."

Aadhira laughed.

"Absolutely not."

"It's dangerous."

"So am I."

"I wasn't complimenting you."

"I know."

She grabbed her weapon.

Adhiraj caught her wrist.

"Stay behind me."

Aadhira looked down at his hand.

Then up at him.

"Remove it."

He did.

"Fine."

She stepped past him.

"I'll stay beside you."

The factory was dark.

Too dark.

They entered with weapons drawn.

Samar and Nysa followed.

The air smelled of dust and oil.

Aadhira noticed fresh footprints.

She pointed.

Adhiraj nodded.

They moved silently.

Then—

CLICK.

A gun cocked behind them.

"Drop your weapons."

Twenty men emerged from the shadows.

Adhiraj didn't move.

Neither did Aadhira.

The man standing at the center smiled.

"You came exactly as expected."

Aadhira's eyes narrowed.

"Who are you?"

The man raised his weapon.

"The people who have been waiting for you."

Gunfire erupted.

Adhiraj grabbed Aadhira and pulled her behind a concrete pillar.

Bullets tore through the metal machinery.

Nysa returned fire.

Samar moved in the opposite direction.

Aadhira leaned around the pillar and fired twice.

One attacker fell.

Adhiraj looked at her.

"You could have warned me."

"You were in the way."

He almost laughed.

"You're impossible."

"And you're slow."

They moved together.

For the first time, their instincts aligned.

Adhiraj covered the left.

Aadhira took the right.

Neither needed instructions.

Neither needed trust.

They simply understood.

Within minutes, the factory fell silent.

Three attackers escaped.

The rest were dead or injured.

Aadhira approached the man who had spoken.

She crouched.

"Who sent you?"

He smiled through blood.

"You really don't know?"

Her eyes hardened.

"Know what?"

He looked at Adhiraj.

Then back at her.

"You two were never supposed to survive."

Before either could ask another question, the man bit down.

Aadhira's eyes widened.

"Stop him!"

Too late.

Poison.

He collapsed.

Adhiraj stared at the body.

Then at Aadhira.

"He knew us."

"Yes."

"He knew we'd come."

"Yes."

"And he expected us to investigate."

Aadhira looked around the factory.

"Then this was a trap."

A bullet suddenly shattered the window above them.

Aadhira ducked.

Adhiraj grabbed her and pulled her against his chest.

The second bullet struck the wall.

Silence.

His arm remained around her waist.

Her hands were against his chest.

They stared at each other.

Too close.

Much too close.

Adhiraj's gaze dropped to her lips.

Aadhira's breath caught.

Neither moved.

Then Nysa shouted—

"Sniper!"

They separated instantly.

Aadhira raised her weapon.

Adhiraj turned toward the window.

But the sniper was already gone.

Outside, rain began falling again.

Aadhira stood beside the SUV, staring at the factory.

Adhiraj walked toward her.

"You're bleeding."

She looked at her arm.

A shallow cut.

"Nothing."

He reached for her.

She pulled away.

"I said I'm fine."

"I wasn't asking."

"You're not my husband."

The words came out before she could stop them.

Silence.

Adhiraj's expression changed.

"No."

He stepped closer.

"Not yet."

Aadhira looked at him.

Something about the way he said it made her pulse jump.

She hated that.

He hated that he noticed.

They were enemies.

Temporary allies.

Nothing more.

At least, that's what they told themselves.

Adhiraj opened the SUV door.

"Get in."

Aadhira stared at him.

"Why?"

"Because we're going to find out who wants us dead."