PART 1: THE RADIOLOGY OF THE TARGET
POV: Ananya Iyer
The Vartan Capital headquarters sat in the heart of Cyber City, a jagged tooth of glass and chrome that seemed to bite into the grey Delhi sky. It was a fortress of data, guarded by biometric scanners and the kind of security personnel who were paid to forget what they saw.
"You're shaking again, Chennai."
I looked at Ishaan, who was leaning against the cold metal railing of the footbridge overlooking the office park. He was wearing a dark utility jacket, his eyes hidden behind a cap. He looked less like a basketball star and more like the shadow he'd been for two years.
"It's not just the heist, Ishaan," I whispered. "It's the fact that my father's life is inside that building. Every bribe, every loan, every 'gift' the Rathores gave him... it's all on a server in there."
"And that's exactly why we're taking it," Ishaan said, his voice a low, steady rumble. "Rishi Varma thinks he can use your father's past to control your future. We're going to give your father his life back by taking away Rishi's leverage."
Arth walked up behind us, checking his watch. He was wearing a sleek, expensive suit—the kind that allowed him to walk into any room without being questioned. "The shift change is in ten minutes. Wish is already in the service elevator with the bypass device. Swara is at the back gate with 'Bluey' idling. We have exactly twelve minutes before the backup servers sync with Singapore."
I looked at the silver hair clip in my hand—the one that had become a talisman for our rebellion. I tucked it into my pocket and took a deep breath. "Let's go."
PART 2: THE LENS OF THE INTRUDER
POV: Wishakha (Wish) Bhalla
I was tucked into the ceiling crawlspace of the 14th-floor server room, my Nikon dangling from its strap, replaced by a much more dangerous tool: a Vartan-grade decrypter Arth had 'borrowed' from his father's old study.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The green light on the console flickered. "I'm in, guys," I whispered into my headset. "The firewall is down. I'm seeing the 'Iyer' folder. It's encrypted with a 256-bit key. Arth, I need your father's old password. The one he used for the Singapore transfers."
"Try 'Vindicat7'," Arth's voice crackled in my ear.
I typed it in. The screen turned blue, then flooded with a cascade of documents. My breath hitched. It wasn't just Ananya's father. It was half the St. Jude's Board. Rishi's father had a leash on everyone.
"I'm downloading everything," I said, my fingers flying across the keys. "But we have a problem. The security feed just flagged the elevator bypass. They know someone is on the 14th floor."
"How long, Wish?" Ishaan's voice was sharp.
"Three minutes. Maybe two."
"Stay put," Ishaan said. "I'm coming up the fire escape. Arth, get Ananya to the lobby. You need to be the 'Golden Boy' one last time. Distract the head of security."
PART 3: THE PRINCE'S LAST PLAY
POV: Arth Rathore
I walked into the Vartan lobby with an arrogance I hadn't felt in months. I didn't have to act; I just had to remember the boy I used to be.
"Mr. Rathore? What are you doing here at this hour?" the head of security asked, his hand hovering near his radio.
"My father left a set of keys in the private lounge," I said, my voice smooth and clinical. "He's in Singapore, as you know, and he needs me to courier them by the morning flight. I assumed you'd have the common courtesy to let me in without a background check."
The guard hesitated. He knew the Rathore name was tarnished, but he also knew that in Delhi, a fallen king can still have powerful friends. "Of course, Mr. Rathore. But the 14th floor is—"
"I'm going to the lounge, not the servers," I snapped, stepping into the elevator. "And while I'm there, I'll be sure to tell my father how helpful you were. Or weren't."
I hit the button for the 12th floor. As soon as the doors closed, I pulled a small jammer from my pocket and pressed it against the control panel. The elevator lurched, then stopped.
"Emergency stop," I whispered into my headset. "Lobby is clear for sixty seconds. Ananya, move now."
PART 4: THE RADIOLOGY OF THE ESCAPE
POV: Ananya Iyer
I ran across the lobby, my heart hammering against my ribs. I could see Swara through the glass doors, her blue 'Bluey' helmet a beacon of safety in the darkness.
Suddenly, the side exit burst open. Ishaan was there, carrying a black backpack. He looked like he'd just run up fourteen flights of stairs—which he had. Behind him, Wishakha was sliding down the fire escape railing, her camera bag clutched to her chest.
"Go! Go!" Ishaan yelled.
We threw ourselves onto the back of the motorcycles. I climbed behind Ishaan, my arms wrapping around his waist. As the engines roared to life, I saw the security guards pouring out of the lobby, their radios squawking.
We tore out of Cyber City, the lights of the office towers blurring into a streak of silver and gold. We didn't stop until we reached the Midnight Court.
The streetlamp was still buzzing, still flickering. We stood there in the dark, the four of us, looking at the black backpack.
"Did you get it?" I asked, my voice trembling.
Wishakha pulled out a small, silver flash drive. "I got everything. The bribes, the loans, the 'gifts.' Your father is free, Ananya. But Rishi Varma... his father is going to jail."
I looked at Ishaan. He was leaning against the hoop, his face illuminated by the flickering light. He looked at me, and for the first time, I didn't see a ghost. I saw a man who had finally won his war.
"Once in a day," I whispered, reaching out to take his hand.
"No," he said, pulling me into a kiss that tasted like rain and victory. "Every day. From now on... it's every day."
Behind us, the city of Delhi continued to roar, but for the first time in eighteen years, the silence didn't feel like a cage. It felt like home.
----------------------------------------------------
Hello everyone!!!!!!
On this 18 my new novel is coming.
It is gonna be a horror one.
Hope you all that also.
Please comment your thoughts 💭 also