The corridor smelled of polished wood and something bitter—old alcohol soaked into luxury, pretending to be cleanliness.
Malisha walked without lifting her head.
Her dogs stayed close, nails clicking softly against the marble floor, their presence the only thing grounding her. Aryan walked a step ahead—neither guiding nor rushing her, just there. That restraint was deliberate.
The door opened.
The room was large.
Too large for one person.
Curtains were drawn, city lights bleeding faintly through the edges like secrets that refused to stay hidden. A bottle sat untouched on the table. Someone had anticipated weakness.
Malisha didn't.
She stepped inside, removed her coat, and placed it carefully on the chair—as if routine still mattered.
The dogs circled once, twice, then settled. One near the bed. Two near the door. Guarding instincts didn't switch off just because the world had.
Aryan lingered near the entrance.
"Rooms are soundproof," he said lightly. "Not even ghosts get through these walls."
She didn't smile.
"Good," she replied. "I'm not in the mood for either."
He nodded, knowing when to leave and when not to.
Tonight was the latter.
"You didn't correct them," he said after a pause.
"I didn't lie to them either."
"That's not what I said."
Malisha finally looked at him. Her eyes weren't empty. They were exhausted—worn down by years of decisions made too early and consequences paid too late.
"They needed someone to blame," she said. "And for once, it was convenient that it was me."
Aryan leaned against the wall, arms crossed loosely. No judgment. No pity.
"And Aditya?"
Her jaw tightened.
"He did what leaders do," she said quietly. "He chose the truth over me. Classic Adi."
"That hurt."
"Yes."
She sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on her knees, hands clasped. Power looked different when it had nowhere to perform.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then—
A sharp exhale.
Not a sob.
Not a breakdown.
Just breath leaving her, like something finally loosening its grip.
"They were supposed to find out later," she said. "After they were safe. After they trusted me enough to hate me properly."
Aryan's voice softened. "You planned their anger?"
"I planned their survival."
Silence again.
From below, faint music from the club pulsed through the floor—distant, careless, alive. A cruel reminder that the world didn't pause for moral dilemmas.
"One of them will come back," Aryan said eventually.
"I know," she said. "And at the same time… I don't."
He smiled faintly.
"High ranks will arrive tomorrow for the meeting. I've explained everything. You just have to confirm. Be ready."
"Yes," she replied flatly. "Your meeting. I'll be there."
She lay back on the bed without removing her boots, staring at the ceiling like it might offer absolution.
It didn't.
The dogs shifted closer.
Her hand found one of them automatically, fingers threading through fur. That's where her control finally cracked—not visibly, not loudly, but enough for the night to feel heavier.
Aryan straightened. "I'll be outside."
"You don't have to."
"I know."
He paused at the door. "For what it's worth, Mal… this was always going to be a bad night."
She closed her eyes.
"Yes," she said. "But some nights decide what kind of morning you're allowed to have."
The door shut softly behind him.
And Malisha lay awake, surrounded by loyalty that couldn't argue back, waiting for sleep that refused to come.
Because some truths don't haunt you when they're hidden.
They haunt you when they're finally spoken.
A few minutes later, there was a knock.
The dogs became alert but didn't bark—someone familiar.
Malisha opened the door.
It was Raghav. His wound looked better.
"Hey," he said softly. "You okay?"
"Are you?" Malisha replied. "You're speaking better."
"Yeah. Better doctors, better resources. They say I'll be fine in a day."
She stepped aside, letting him in, checking his wound out of habit.
As he entered, he hesitated. "I guess you were expecting someone else," he said carefully. "Aditya?"
Malisha exhaled slowly.
"It's always him in situations like this," she said. "But no. He was the last person I expected—after he refused to even recognise me."
Raghav stood still, then pulled out a satellite phone.
"I stopped by his room before coming here," he said. "He's… not fine. But he gave me this."
He placed it in her hand.
"He asked the guards for it. Said he fixed the frequency to connect home."
Malisha stared at the device.
"He already talked," Raghav added. "Don't worry—he didn't mention anything… about you. Not yet." A pause. "That last part's from me. He's affected. More than he lets on."
No questions. No sympathy.
"I should go," Raghav said quietly. "Adi could use someone tonight. Unlike you, he doesn't have so many people under him."
And then he left.
Malisha stood alone, the dogs at her feet, the satellite phone cold in her palm—waiting for her siblings' voices, their ordinary stories.
Relieved that Aditya wouldn't be alone this cold night.
And faintly smiling at the truth she didn't say aloud—
That despite all the power she held,
all the people under her command,
she had no one left to come knocking for her.
In no time, the radio phone began catching a clearer signal.
Malisha rushed to the balcony.
The music from below was loud, careless, but the air outside was fresh—cold enough to make her breathe properly for the first time that night.
The signal stabilized.
As she waited, her eyes wandered.
On the left side of the balcony, near the corner, stood Aditya—alone, staring into the dark stretch of the night. The space between them was barely a few steps, yet it felt impossibly wide.
He turned absentmindedly.
Their eyes met.
No words.
No acknowledgment.
Just recognition.
At that exact moment, the phone crackled to life.
"Didi—Malisha didi—hello, hello!" multiple voices burst through at once.
"Yes, yes," she smiled instinctively. "Hey, kiddos. I'm here."
"You were supposed to be home," Aayu complained. "Today! Why aren't you here?"
"Oh, well, we—"
"The bus had a problem," Divya cut in. "Adi bhaiya told you, Aayu. We just want them home, right?"
"Yes," Malisha said softly. "That's what happened. We're trying. We'll be there soon. All of us want to, monkeys."
"Adi bhaiya said you're staying at some OG base… a club or something," Riya said curiously. "Are there really clubs left out there, didi?"
Malisha hesitated. "Yeah… it's here. We were surprised too. It's not as good as it sounds. The base is fine—just not what I imagined."
During the call, Aditya quietly left the balcony and disappeared into his room.
Malisha noticed.
No one commented.
But his name kept returning, uninvited, through the voices on the other end.
"…But are you okay?" Riya asked carefully. "And is Adi bhaiya okay? He didn't sound right. I can't tell, but—"
"Yeah… he's just very tired today," Malisha said softly. "You know him. He tried fixing the bus—definitely not his cup of tea. So he's irritated. And exhausted."
"He said you tried to fix the bus," Divya added.
Malisha smiled, though no one could see it.
"Well… we both did," she said lightly. "Like we always do. Turns out neither of us is good enough at it. Raghav will handle it in the morning."
She paused, then added gently, "It's late now. Even I'm tired. We'll talk tomorrow, okay? You all should sleep."
"No, didi, we haven't discussed our day yet," Aayu protested.
"Oh, it's almost time—keep her on the phone, keep her on the phone," Divya whispered loudly in the background.
"Oh, shut up, you," Riya muttered, trying—and failing—to keep her voice down.
Malisha's smile faded.
Something about their voices—too eager, too careful—made her pause.
"What is it?" she asked gently. "Why do I feel like you three are hiding something?"
"Okay, it's time now," Riya said.
"Happy birthday, didi!"
All three voices burst together.
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you—"
Malisha scoffed instinctively. Then she smiled.
"Oh god," she murmured. "I forgot. No—really, I did."
She shook her head softly. "I'm surprised you all remembered. You never remember anything."
Then something clicked.
"So that's why you wanted me home today," she said quietly. "I see."
Her smile turned bittersweet. "I'm sorry, my loves."
There was a pause.
"Okay," she added gently, masking it well. "You all do one thing—enjoy yourselves tomorrow. Get the cake. Have the party. Invite your friends. Have fun. I'll join you as soon as I reach, alright?"
"We wanted you, didi," Divya said softly. "And you're not here."
"I'll be there soon," Malisha replied. She sounded sure. She wasn't.
"Well," Riya said hesitantly, "Adi bhaiya reminded us yesterday. Where is he now? He should be wishing you."
Malisha swallowed.
"Oh… he's not feeling well," she said. "He went to sleep. I think. I—I'm outside, walking the dogs."
A brief silence.
"Okay, didi," Aayu said, trying to sound cheerful. "So… nineteen now. Someone's old."
"Yes," Malisha smiled faintly. "Nineteen. Very old."
"Alright, you all sleep now," she said quickly. "It's late. Too late."
The call ended.
Malisha stood alone on the balcony.
Inside the club, music throbbed. Laughter spilled into the night. People celebrated—no one quite sure what, or why.
And of all the people there, Malisha didn't want to celebrate at all.
Something clicked.
Malisha's breath hitched.
She pulled the phone back up immediately, fingers already dialing.
"Pick up. Come on," she muttered, pressing the device hard against her ear.
A pause.
"Hello?"
The voice was familiar. Grounding.
"Raj?" Malisha said. "It's me."
A sharp exhale on the other end.
"Oh god," he said. "So you finally decided to contact them, Malisha."
"Yes," she replied. No defense. No sarcasm.
"They know. All of them."
Silence.
"The bus is badly hit. Not working," she continued. "We had no choice—we're at Devila Pearl."
Her voice dropped, almost breaking.
"And they… they saw me kill."
Another pause.
"Oh god," Raj said again, quieter this time.
"Are you okay?"
"Is that really what you want to ask me, Raj?" Malisha said quietly.
A pause.
"I'm fine," she added. Flat. Final.
Another pause—longer this time.
"So the crew knows about Queen Conquera," Raj said at last, his voice tightening.
"How could you be so careless, Malisha?"
She didn't answer.
"How did they take it?" he continued. "And how did the bus get hit?"
"It was… a chain of incidents," Malisha replied absently.
"The crew was already injured after the Rank Fifty situation."
Silence.
"The what?" Raj snapped. "What Rank Fifty?"
Malisha stiffened.
Right. He didn't know.
"The rank-meeting massacre was already enough," Raj went on, anger finally surfacing.
"I sent you on a rescue mission. Not to play Conquera."
"I did rescue them," she said, firmer now. "But there were loose threads. From a previous mission."
She exhaled.
"I took out a scavenger camp. Then the crew was taken hostage—by Rank Fifty. A misogynistic bastard. I killed him."
Raj didn't interrupt.
"There were landmines," she continued. "Blasts. Controlled ones."
A sharp breath from the other end.
"Oh," Raj said slowly. "So that wasn't all."
"No," Malisha admitted.
"The bus got hit. We had no choice but to come here—Devila Pearl."
She hesitated, then continued anyway.
"I ran into Aryan. Rank Twenty-Nine caused trouble. I killed him too."
A beat. "And one more. I don't remember."
That was the worst part.
"The team knows too much now," she finished quietly.
"Is it clean?" Raj asked. "Completely clean?"
"Yes," Malisha replied. "Aryan took care of it. Mostly."
Raj exhaled slowly.
"And the crew," he said, lowering his voice.
"What are you planning to do about them?"
Malisha frowned. "What do you mean by that?"
The color drained from her face even before he answered.
"You know the rules you put in place," Raj said carefully.
"Bringing them back here could be a threat. To your siblings. To the balance we've managed to maintain."
Her fingers tightened around the phone.
"Keeping them safe is our responsibility," he continued. "Mine, first and foremost. And keeping everyone else safe too."
"Their presence could disturb the peace here, Malisha."
"No," she said quickly. "They're not like that. These are good people, Raj."
"I have Adi here. He's known me for years. They're not a threat."
"That's exactly the problem," Raj replied.
"He knows you. He knows your siblings."
Her throat went dry.
"All it takes is one careless word," he said. "One moment of panic."
"I suggest you handle it yourself. As soon as possible."
"Raj," Malisha said, her voice unsteady now, "I know Aditya. He won't say a word. None of them will."
"I can handle this. I will handle this."
A pause.
"They just need time," she added softly. "Leave it to me."
Another pause—longer.
"Do it," Raj finally said.
"Because if they become a threat… then due to my position, my responsibilities, and the rules you wrote—"
He stopped himself.
"I would be forced to act," he finished.
"Only if necessary."
The line went quiet.
"Listen," Malisha said, her voice low, urgent.
"You don't have to do anything. You don't have to kill them.Don't send anyone. Don't arrange anything."
"No one is a threat. They're just… sentimental right now."
She exhaled.
"I called you to inform you. Not to ask for help with the crew."
A pause.
"And tomorrow," she added, "my siblings are celebrating. Give them a part of my wages. Visit them briefly. Tell them you've been in touch with us."
"Happy birthday," Raj said quietly.
"I know the timing is… unfortunate."
"Yes," Malisha replied. "I'll be there for them."
"And remember," Raj said, "what you promised."
"Yes," she said. "Bye."
She cut the call before he could say anything else.
Malisha inhaled deeply, fingers pressing against her forehead.
"Oh God," she whispered.
"It's out of hand. I told Raj. I ignored the rules—"
She turned.
Siya stood at the far end of the balcony, frozen. Watching.
Their eyes met.
Malisha tried to move past her, but after two steps—
"So Raj knows," Siya said.
"Yes," Malisha replied, not turning around. She faced the door now. Ready to leave.
Yet she stayed.
Siya scoffed.
"So this whole system," she said coldly, "it's not real after all. Just another part of your web."
Malisha turned sharply — every inch the captain now.
"Blame me. Curse me. Do whatever you want," she said.
"But don't question the only real thing in my life."
"The OG system is exactly what you think it is. The only thing you didn't know—"
"—is that it comes under my guarantee."
"And that," she said, "is because it's needed."
Silence.
"And what about the part where we get killed?" Siya asked.
"When were you planning to take care of that? Or is that not a big deal for you?"
"None of you is dying," Malisha said.
"Not on my watch. I've said it before and I'll say it again."
She softened — just a fraction.
"You can think of me as a monster if you want. You have every right."
"But you're the same to me as you always were."
She took another step toward the room.
"It's your birthday," Siya said awkwardly.
She didn't know if she was allowed to wish her.
Silence hung between them — heavy, broken.
Malisha turned back and smiled.
The same bright smile she always wore.
"Good night, Siya," she said.
"Get some rest."
Something was wrong with the smile. Siya could feel it — forced, hollow.
Malisha went inside.
She shut the balcony door.
Closed the curtains.
Laid down on the bed.
Sleep never came.
Only tears — the kind she wasn't allowed to shed.