The bus rumbled along the highway, the cityscape gradually giving way to lush greenery. Kiara sat stiffly in her seat, staring resolutely out the window, trying to ignore the magnetic presence of the boy beside her.
Of all the people in that entire class, she fumed internally, why did it have to be him? Why did I have to get partnered with this arrogant, insufferable, pretty-boy villain? This is going to be the longest day of my life.
A low, amused chuckle came from her left. "I'm not that bad, you know," Yuvaan said, his voice a soft murmur meant only for her. He leaned slightly closer, the scent of his cologne subtle and expensive. "In fact, you should consider yourself lucky to be the partner of this hot sensation. It's an honor many would kill for."
Kiara's head snapped towards him, her eyes wide with shock and a flicker of fear. "Wha— How did you... Can you hear my thoughts?"
Yuvaan's response was a lazy, condescending smile. He reached out and gently tapped her temple with a single finger. "I don't need to read your mind, Kiara Shetty. Girls are very predictable. And I've come across many." He leaned back, looking immensely pleased with himself. "The stiff posture, the forced interest in the scenery, the little frown... it all screams 'I'm annoyed to be sitting with him.' It's written all over your face."
He closed his eyes, feigning relaxation. "Don't worry. You'll get used to my charm. They all do."
Kiara turned back to the window, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of indignation and embarrassment. He was wrong; he was insufferable. But as much as she hated to admit it, he was also terrifyingly perceptive. She made a mental note to work on her poker face, determined not to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much he got under her skin.
While the college bus carried its passengers toward ancient secrets, a different kind of connection was rekindling in the heart of the city.
At a bustling mall, Varun, on a quick errand for his father, rounded a corner and collided squarely with a young woman, sending her shopping bag tumbling.
"I'm so sorry!" he said immediately, kneeling to help gather her things.
As their hands reached for the same fallen item, their eyes met. A spark of recognition ignited.
"Riddhi?"
"Varun?"
They spoke in unison, surprise etching both their faces. They stood up, a slightly awkward silence hanging between them.
"It's been a while," Varun said, breaking the silence with a warm, hesitant smile. "Three years, I think?"
"Indeed," Riddhi replied, her posture softening. "Though... I always viewed your Insta posts. All those pictures from London. It looked amazing." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "When did you get back?"
"Just a week ago," Varun said.
"Oh."
An awkward pause stretched between them, filled with the ghost of a past connection.
"Um," Varun began, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's really awkward, isn't it? Considering the fact that we're speaking like strangers when we were once... well, into each other."
Riddhi's cheeks flushed a delicate pink, but a small, genuine smile played on her lips. "It is a little."
Encouraged, Varun took a gentle step forward. "I apologize if I'm overstepping a boundary, but... do you have a boyfriend?"
Riddhi shook her head, her smile growing. "No, I don't."
"Then," Varun said, his confidence returning, "maybe we could meet up? Like, on a date?"
Riddhi's blush deepened, but she didn't hesitate. "Yeah. Of course."
"Great," Varun beamed. "I'll text you. When and where."
They quickly exchanged their new numbers. With a final, flustered smile, Riddhi turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.
Varun watched her go, his own smile slowly fading, replaced by the grim focus of a Reeva hunter. He pulled out his phone, not to text Riddhi, but to pull up the file on the Pratap Singh family.
It's fortunate we bumped into each other, Riddhi, he thought, his expression turning resolute. Because we have a strong suspicion about your cousin brother, Yuvaan. And perhaps, through you, we might just find the answers we're looking for.
As Riddhi disappeared into the mall's crowd, the warmth drained from Varun's face, replaced by the cool focus of a hunter on a mission. He pulled out his phone and dialed a familiar number.
In the quiet of his study, Vikram's phone vibrated on the desk. He answered immediately. "Varun? Any updates?"
"The plan is in motion, Father," Varun's voice was low and steady, his eyes still fixed on the spot where Riddhi had vanished. "I've just made contact with the bait."
There was a brief pause on the other end. "The Pratap Singh girl? Riddhi?"
"Yes," Varun confirmed. "We've reconnected. It was... surprisingly easy. The old chemistry is still there, or at least, she believes it is."
Vikram's voice was grim. "Be careful, beta. We are treading on dangerous ground. Using personal relationships for intelligence... it leaves a mark."
"I know," Varun replied, a hint of tension in his voice. "But we're out of options. Yuvaan is an enigma. His file is a perfectly constructed mask. We need to find a crack, and his family is the weakest point." He took a breath, steeling himself. "Riddhi is our way in. She's close to him, lives in the same house. If anyone has seen anything unusual, it's her. She's the perfect bait to dig into Yuvaan's personal life and uncover what he's hiding."
"Just remember the line between duty and your heart," Vikram warned, his paternal concern evident. "Don't get lost in the role."
"The mission comes first," Varun stated, his voice firm, as if trying to convince himself as much as his father. "I'll report back when I have something."
He ended the call, slipping the phone back into his pocket. The thrill of the successful first contact was now mingled with a cold knot of guilt in his stomach. He looked down at his phone, at Riddhi's new contact saved in his list. For a moment, he saw the hopeful, blushing girl. Then he saw the arrogant, suspicious face of her cousin.
He squared his shoulders. For Kiara, he told himself. Everything for chohti's safety.
He turned and walked away, the hunter fully committed to his path, even as it led him through the tangled thorns of a rekindled past.