Ayesha's Pov
Six Months Later

It's been six months since I talked to him or even looked at him. That night, he told me to stay away from him, and that's exactly what I did-stayed away, even though my heart bled just to have a single conversation with him.

I had caught him staring at me numerous times, yet his words still pierced my heart every time our eyes met.

I am hopelessly in love with him, and it hurts-in every part of me.

All I want is to run into his arms and cry. Just a few glances at him aren't enough to console my heart, especially when the promise band shines so proudly on his hand.

Yesterday, I received my posting information. I was assigned to the Delhi headquarters along with Ritika.

We were to work alongside the Alpha Unit on a suicide case involving a very renowned influencer. She was found dead in her apartment. Neighbours claimed they hadn't heard any noise from her apartment, nor had they seen anyone entering or leaving it.

It was strange because the police didn't find a suicide note. None of the furniture showed any signs of disturbance, the dishes were washed, and the clothes were folded neatly and placed on the sofa.

Today, we were going to the site to investigate. Something about this case feels off, and it's making my head spin.

"Eshu!" yelled Bhabhi from downstairs. Yeah, I came back home yesterday after the convocation, and it feels amazing to be here again. I missed my family so much. Ritika, however, moved in with her boyfriend, who lives alone.

Pulling myself out of my thoughts, I shouted, "Coming, Bhabhi!" Grabbing my phone and quickly slipping on my flip-flops, I rushed downstairs.

"Stop running, Eshu," Chachu said as he walked out of his room.

"Haanji, Chachu," I replied, slowing my pace.

"Good morning, everyone," I said, taking my usual seat for breakfast. I needed to leave right after eating.

"Eat slowly, the food isn't going anywhere," Chachi said, handing me my coffee.

"Thank you, Chachi, but I have no time.I'm already late," I replied, chewing quickly and taking a sip of my very hot coffee.

"Look at you,months of training and still the same," Bhai said, looking at me with mischievous eyes. I made a puppy face at Bhabhi.

She smacked Bhai lightly and said, "Stop teasing my little one, Ved, and eat quietly." He looked at her with betrayed eyes, and I gave him a victorious smile.

"I should leave now. Bye!" I said, getting up and waving quickly before leaving.

Placing my stuff on the passenger seat, I started my car and drove off. I had missed this beast of mine. It seemed Bhai had made sure to keep it serviced because it ran just as smoothly as when I left it.

Connecting my phone to Bluetooth, I called Ritika.

"Hi, babygirl," she said, picking up after a few rings.

"Kaha ho?" I asked, taking a sharp right turn because the uncle on the scooty in front of me seemed very eager to meet God.
(Where are you?)

"Reaching in 15," she replied from the other side.

"Cool, see you soon," I said and ended the call.

Rolling my window down, I shouted, "Oo uncle ji, Yamraj ji se milne ka shauk hai toh kisi train ke neeche kyu nahi aa jaate? Apne saath dusre ki ticket mat katwao. Tameez mein chalao, scooty hai airplane nahi jo traffic ko ignore karke kahi bhi ghuma loge," and drove off because I had no time to waste on him.

(Oh uncle, if you're so eager to meet Lord Yamraj, why don't you just jump under a train? Don't take someone else's ticket along with yours. Drive properly, it's a scooty, not an airplane, that you can just move around and ignore traffic as you please.)

Parking my car, I quickly walked to the entrance. We still had half an hour before the briefing, so we were on time-as long as Ritika didn't get late.

"Hey, babygirl," she said cheerfully, already waiting for me at the entrance with Vidit Bhai.

"Hey, Ritika, Vidit Bhai," I greeted, smiling at my best friend's infectious energy.

"Hey, Ayesha, kaisi ho?" Vidit Bhai asked with a wide, genuine smile.
(Hey Ayesha, how are you?)

"I'm good. Aap batao, how's living with my best friend treating you?" I asked with a teasing smile. Both of them turned red in response, making me chuckle at their cuteness.
( I'm good, you tell me.)

"It's-uh-it's good," he stuttered, blushing even more. I nodded, laughing softly.

"We'll get late. Let's go," Ritika muttered, dragging me along.

"So, who's our officer in charge?" she asked while pulling me toward the briefing hall.

"I have no idea. I just hope it's not some stuck-up jerk," I replied. I was really hoping for a mentally stable senior-unlike a certain someone during my training.

"Good morning, team. I'm Zeeshan Kapoor, and this is Naman Saini and Vidit Sharma. We're the Alpha Team, and we'll be your officers in charge for this mission," said Zeeshan freaking Kapoor, making my jaw drop in disbelief-along with my best friend, who looked like she might faint any second.

Why me, God? I thought, looking up, silently cursing my terrible luck. Thankfully, he didn't see me doing that, or he would've found a way to insult me. But Vidit Bhai did notice and almost burst out laughing.

"Any questions?" Naman Sir asked. There were six of us interns-me, Ritika, Isha, Bharat, Ansh, and Naksh.

"No, sir," we replied in unison. Well, the other four did. Ritika and I were too busy cursing our fates.

"Good. Let's head to the investigation site," he said, and all of us followed them out after a quick briefing on the case and the information they had gathered so far.

Ritika and Naksh followed Vidit Bhai to his car, while Ansh and Bharat went with Naman Sir, which meant Isha and I were supposed to go with him.

"Let's go," he said, walking toward his car. Isha followed him eagerly, making me sigh and trail behind.

"One of you sit in the passenger seat. I'm not your driver," he snapped as we both slid into the back seat.

"I'll sit," Isha muttered and quickly moved to the passenger seat, making me roll my eyes.

"Shall we go?" he asked as he fastened his seatbelt. Isha replied enthusiastically, while his eyes met mine through the rearview mirror. I immediately looked away.

"Sir?" said Isha after a few moments of awkward silence.

"Yes?" he replied, keeping his eyes on the road as he shifted gears.

"Is there something we should be aware of during the investigation?" she asked, batting her lashes and smiling innocently.

"Did you not learn that during your training, Miss Isha?" he asked, glancing at me again through the rearview mirror, making me look away once more.

"Sorry, sir," she muttered softly.

I shook my head and focused on the case file, making mental notes about a few areas of the house that weren't mentioned.

"So, what did you find out, Miss Ayesha?" he asked suddenly, causing me to look up with wide eyes. Isha turned around and shot me a nasty glare.

Excuse me?

"Sorry?" I asked, waiting for him to repeat himself.

"The case file," he clarified, taking a sharp turn that made me jerk forward, but his hand reached out in time to stop me from hitting the front seat.

"Are you okay? I'm so sorry," he asked worriedly, still handling the steering wheel with his other hand.

"I'm okay," I muttered, sitting up straight. Isha, however, looked like her hair had gone through a storm.

"Are you okay?" I asked her. She nodded, rolling her eyes and brushing her hair back.

One day I'm going to pluck those rolling eyeballs out. Who is she even showing this attitude to?

"Go and check if they've arrived yet, Miss Isha," he instructed as he parked the car.

She smiled brightly and nodded. "Yes, sir," she said and rushed off to complete the task.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry, there was a huge pit I didn't notice earlier," he said once she left, turning slightly toward me.

So after months of unsaid feelings and unanswered questions, this is what I get? Nothing? Not even an explanation for his cold behavior?

"Quit driving if you don't know how to," I muttered, looking anywhere but at him.

"Perhaps I was distracted by someone," he said, looking utterly amused through the rearview mirror. My heart skipped several beats at his words.

"Yeah, I saw how distracted you were because of a certain someone sitting in your passenger seat," I spat before stepping out as I spotted Ritika talking to Isha and Naksh.

"Are they here?" I asked, joining them.

"Oh yes, you wait, I'll go and call sir," Isha replied and hopped back toward the car.

Rolling my eyes, I nodded at her. Ritika leaned toward me and whispered, "Are you jealous?"

"Ajiii haa. Jealous my ass," I muttered, shooting her a glare. She chuckled.
(Oh yes)

"Let's go, team. Make sure your gloves are intact, and don't cause any ruckus inside," he said, looking at us. His gaze lingered on me, making my heart race uncontrollably.

We entered the house. It was surprisingly clean for an investigation site. There were no traces of blood, no scattered items,nothing. Everything was neatly kept, even the dishes, as if the killer had been a clean freak.

"Look around for any evidence and let us know if you find something," said Naman Sir. We nodded and dispersed.

I went to the balcony, looking for any signs of a break-in. It wasn't impossible to enter through the window since it was on the second floor. The balcony flooring was covered with artificial grass, but there were no footprints or traces of dust or mud.

"It seems the killer didn't break in through the balcony," Naksh said while inspecting the area. I hummed in agreement, and we walked back inside together.

In the kitchen, I found Isha admiring the crockery set. Rolling my eyes, I looked around, hoping to find any trace of the killer, but it was useless.

"Only if I could ask her where she bought this crockery set," Isha muttered, placing the dishes back carefully.

Sighing, I walked out and that's when I noticed a door at the far corner of the apartment, almost unnoticeable unless you looked closely.

Frowning, I went toward it and tried turning the knob. It was locked. I couldn't open it.

"Sir?" I called out, spotting Naman Sir walking toward the kitchen.

"Yes, Miss Ayesha?" he asked, walking toward me.

"Why is this door locked?" I asked, twisting the knob again, but it wouldn't budge.

"The door is locked?" he repeated. I nodded and stepped aside as he tried to open it himself.

"Call Zeeshan here, please," he said, still tugging at the door. I nodded and walked out to where Zeeshan was talking to the neighbors.

"Excuse me, sir," I said politely.

He excused himself and walked toward me. "You're needed inside."

He nodded and followed me to the locked room.

"Did we receive any key for this room?" Naman Sir asked as we approached.

"No," Zeeshan replied, frowning slightly. "Is it locked?"

"No, we just wanted to play April Fools with you," I muttered under my breath, looking down.

Naman Sir cleared his throat, chuckling quietly, making me glance up at him. He was trying to hide his smile, while Zeeshan looked at me with an unimpressed expression.

"I mean-"

"It's okay. I know what he asked was stupid," Naman Sir interrupted with a small smile. I nodded quickly, causing him to sigh.

"I'll call someone to open the lock," he said, walking away and leaving the two of us alone.

"Zyada nahi bol rahi ho aap?" he asked, leaning against the wall and lightly gripping my wrist as I tried to walk away.
(Aren't you talking too much?)

"It was just a slip of the tongue. Agli baar se nahi hoga. Don't worry, sir, aapko shikayat ka mauka nahi milega," I said, jerking my wrist free and walking away.
(It won't happen again. Don't worry you won't get a chance to complain again.)

Zeeshan's POV

I saw her walking away after saying those words, her eyes filled with unshed tears - all because of me.

It's been a while since I've been admiring her silently, and it's been a while since she's been ignoring me like the plague. I don't blame her though.

I'm just glad I succeeded in my mission - my mission to protect her from my demons.

"You need to communicate with her," Vidit said, appearing out of nowhere.

"Communicate about what?" I asked, looking at him.

"Everything."

"No need. It's better if she stays away from me," I murmured, looking away.

"Even if your heart bleeds for her?" he asked, sighing.

"Even if it dies bleeding for her," I said firmly, my tone leaving no room for argument.

"Let's get back to work," I murmured, walking out of that place. It was suffocating me.

"Sir?" someone called out as I stepped outside.

"Yes, Miss Isha?" I asked, sighing. This girl was starting to irritate me.

"Sir, I think that girl attempted suicide," she said, looking at me with a constipated expression.

"And why do you think so?" I asked, folding my arms, a deadpan expression clearly visible on my face.

"Because there was no attempt of breaking in," she replied, smiling widely.
Who the hell encouraged her to become a CBI officer?

"Oh? And how did you come up with that assumption? The last time I checked, the only place you investigated was the kitchen for the last two hours," I said with a sarcastic smile.

"Woh-I-sir," she stuttered, looking down.

"Focus on your work. Don't act like a four-year-old," I snapped before walking away.

Bunch of idiots.

"Let's go. I brought a man to unlock the door," Naman said, almost crashing into me as he arrived with someone. I followed him to the room, the rest trailing behind.

"This room," Naman informed the man, who nodded and began working on the lock.

"Darwaze par jung lag gaya hai sahab, kholne mei samay lag sakta hai," the man said, chewing gutka like a damn cow.
(The gate is rusted sir, it will take time to open this door.)

"Itna waqt nahi hai humare paas. Aadhe ghante mei karke do," I spat, glaring at him. He gulped and nodded quickly before getting back to work.
( We don't have much time, do it in half an hour.)

After about fifteen minutes of waiting, the door finally opened. Naman took the man aside, and I opened the door completely.

The room looked like it hadn't been opened for years - spider webs everywhere, dust filling the air, covering our noses as we stepped inside, clearing the webs and looking for clues.

"Sir," came Ayesha's loud voice. I immediately went to her.

"This huge window," she murmured, looking behind me. Everyone scattered around, examining the already open window big enough for a man to climb through easily.

"Collect the fingerprints and other necessary evidence from here. Let's head back to headquarters," Vidit instructed the team. They immediately sprang into action, searching for fingerprints, shoe prints, and anything else useful.

"Sir, I found this bracelet," Naksh said, holding up a bracelet with a charm shaped like the letter 'K'.

"Put it in the evidence bag. We'll discuss it at headquarters," I said, nodding as he walked away.

Meanwhile, I looked around the storeroom for anything else that could help with the case.

Boxes of makeup.

Clothes.

Letters - probably from fans.

Bags.

An album... in the far corner of a rusty cupboard.

A heavy photo album with one guy, no, several guys, all in different locations, all in one album.

It seems that the killer missed it.

"Let's head back to headquarters, team. Now," I said, glancing around the room. The team looked confused but nodded anyway, gathering the evidence before following me out.

"Do you know how to drive?" I asked Ayesha.

"No sir, I was thinking I should start learning," the other girl, Isha, said, interrupting.

"Please don't think about it. Miss Ayesha Mehra, do you know how to drive?" I asked, putting pressure on Ayesha's name as we walked to the car.

"Yes sir," she replied, her voice as cold as I expected.

"Drive," I said, tossing her the keys and sliding into the backseat.

I could hear her mutter, "Aaye bade order karne wale," but she still went to the driver's seat. Isha followed her to the passenger side.
(Acting like he's here to give orders.)

"Also, can I have the case file you were reading this morning?" I asked as Ayesha fastened her seatbelt after adjusting the seat to her comfort.

"Sure, sir," she replied with a sarcastic smile and shoved her tote bag toward me.

"Please help yourself. As you can see, I'm driving." With that, she started the car and reversed smoothly out of the parking area.

"Sure," I stuttered. I shouldn't say anything - she might just throw me out of the car.

Pulling out the case file from her tote bag, I focused on it, going through every person connected to the victim.

In between, I called Vidit and Naman, explaining everything briefly. Together, we concluded there was no point in delaying the investigation. After a team meeting, we'd proceed with arresting the killer.

"We've arrived," came Ayesha's cold voice, breaking my train of thought as she parked the car at the office.

"Thank you for driving us here Miss Ayesha. Miss Isha, go check if the others have arrived and tell them to meet in meeting room six as soon as possible," I ordered. Isha smiled weirdly at me and left.

"Can I leave?" Ayesha asked, looking anywhere but at me.

"No, stay," I said, looking at her, taking in her face.

"I don't have any reason to," she replied, meeting my eyes. Her eyes held pain - pain I gave her.

"You don't need one," I said softly, hoping my eyes reflected my sincerity.

"Kyu kar rahe ho ye?" she asked quietly, turning her gaze away.
(Why are you doing this?)

"Kya kar raha hu mai?" I countered gently, taking a step toward her.
(What am I doing?)

"Mere dil ke saath khel rahe ho aap, meri feelings ke saath khel rahe ho aap. Pehle khud dhakka maarte ho, phir khud paas aane ki koshish karte ho. Chahte kya ho aap?" she asked, her tearful eyes locked on mine.
(Playing with my heart, my feelings. First you push me away then you try to come closer. What do you want from me?)

"Mai jo chahta hu, woh mai chah kar bhi nahi paa sakta. Isliye aapke liye mujhse nafrat karna hi behtar hai, aapki safety ke liye," I replied softly, holding her hands, resisting the urge to wipe her tears.
(What I want, I can't have even if I try. That's why it's better for you to hate me, for your own safety.)

"Sab kuch khud decide kar liya? Mera kya?" she whispered, leaning closer and resting her head on my shoulder.
(You decided everything yourself? What about me?)

"Aapke liye hi toh kar raha hu sab kuch. Ghoot ghoot kar jee raha hu, khud ko aapse alag rakh raha hu taaki aapko dur se hi sahi, dekh toh pau," I said softly, caressing her hair.
(I'm doing all of this for you. I'm suffocating every day, keeping myself away from you just so that, even from a distance, I can at least see you)

"I hate you," she whispered before walking away.

She should... she should hate me.

Otherwise, I'll end up doing something I shouldn't.

Sighing, I walked to the meeting room. Everyone arrived soon after. The moment I stepped in, my eyes went to her. Her face was expressionless, but her eyes were swollen and red. I looked away and began explaining what I found in the storeroom and who the main suspect was.

Naman and Vidit added their inputs, and together we came to a conclusion. We called in the person in question, along with another, to avoid raising suspicion.

"So, Mr. Ram, she was your sister?" Naman asked the man sitting in front of us.

"Yes sir, she was my baby sister," Ram replied, faking a sad expression.

"How many years had it been since you last met her?" I asked, looking at him sharply.

"M-mai... 1-10 saal se," he stammered.
(I-..10 years.)

"But you told the police during the investigation it was 12 years," Vidit said, walking slowly toward him.

"Oh, yes sir, it was 12 years. Sorry, I got nervous," Ram said, fidgeting nervously.

"Oops, I guess I was lying too, you actually said 9 years," Vidit grinned mischievously, tapping his shoulder with a shove that made him flinch.

"Arre Vidit, dekho Ram bhaiya ko paseena aa raha hai. AC chala do unke liye, baad mei kahi nadi na baha de woh," Naman said, stepping closer, tackling the man's other shoulder.
(Hey vidit, look Ram bhaiya is sweaty, turn on the AC for him, or he might actually flood the place.)

"K-kya matlab?" Ram asked, stuttering profusely.
(What do you mean?)

Wordlessly, I gestured to Naksh. He placed the bracelet and photo album in front of Ram - the same album showing him at her birthday eight months ago, wearing that very bracelet.

"Muh khol chup chap," Vidit said in a dangerously low voice, tightening his grip.
(Start talking.)

"Aapko galat fehmi ho rahi hai. Waisa kuch nahi hai jaisa aap soch rahe ho," Ram claimed, sweating heavily, panic was clear on his face.
( You're misunderstanding. It's not what you think.)

"Sach bol saale, warna bolne ke layak nahi chhodunga," Naman said, glaring at him.
(Speak the truth. Or It won't be good for you.)

"Pura din nahi hai, jaldi bol," I snapped, making him flinch like a child.
(We don't have the whole day. Start talking.)

Fucking piece of shit.

"W-oh," Ram started. I was losing my calm.
(That-)

"Girls, slap him. Hard," I ordered, looking at them. They nodded and approached him where he sat, trapped between Naman and Vidit.

"Sir, aurat haath, kaise?" Ram asked nervously.
(Sir, female-slapping, how?)

"Aise," Ritika said, slapping him hard, followed by Isha and Ayesha, whose slap cracked his jaw audibly.
(Like this.)

"Bol ab," Naman said, shoving him.
(Talk now.)

"Maine kuch nahi kiya," Ram sobbed like a child.
( I didn't do anything.)

"Boys, your turn," I said. His eyes widened in fear.

"B-bata ta hu," Ram stammered.
(I'll talk.)

Switching the recorder on, I slid it in front of him and said, "Bol. Sab kuch sach."
(Speak. Only the truth.)

!!!!!!Trigger warning: Please skip this part if you are sensitive to voilence!!!!!

"She wasn't my sister. She was the daughter of my father's second wife. I was eighteen when my father remarried. I saw her for the first time when she was fifteen. The moment I saw her, I had motives. I wanted her innocence. I wanted everything. She used to go out with boys, and I told myself that if she did that with me it wouldn't matter. I tried to convince her with love many times. She wouldn't listen. Once she humiliated me, and then I forced myself on her. She cried beneath me. But what difference did it make? I had a video; she couldn't stop me.

After that it became a ritual. Every week I would go; she also enjoyed it. But one day she told her new boyfriend, and my video was deleted. I got very angry. Still, I didn't say anything for four years. When things calmed down, I went back as I used to. She was sleeping. I tied her hands and feet, stuffed cloth in her mouth so I could have my way with her silently.

"How do you end four years of craving in one go? So understandably I did it eight or nine times. At first she cried, but later she became quiet. After that I slept beside her. Best feeling. But she didn't wake up. Then I saw she had stopped breathing. I got scared, but I composed myself, cleaned everything, and left after I was sure that it looked like she'd committed sucide. Amazing right?"

He spoke, leaning back casually as if narrating a funny story.

What a psychotic Asshole.

!!!! trigger warning ends here !!!!!!

"Take this bastard away before I do something I shouldn't," Vidit shouted. Two guards dragged him out while he kept laughing.

"Dismissed," I said before walking away.

Ayesha's pov

I saw him storming out of that room, his eyes red, barely holding himself back from breaking down. I wonder why.

"It's late, we should head home," Ritika said. I nodded and walked to my car while she followed Vidit bhai to his.

A part of me wanted to go and find him, but I was scared. What if he pushed me away again?

I can't face his rejection again.

Sighing, I walked back to my car when I saw him leaning against his, his jaw clenched.

My feet moved toward him automatically before I could even rethink my decision. I stood in front of him; he was so lost in thought that he didn't notice me standing there.

"Are you okay?" I asked softly, breaking his chain of thoughts.

"Huh?" he said, his empty eyes finally meeting mine.

"Are you okay, sir?" I repeated my question.

"Uh, ha- yeah, I'm fine," he stuttered, biting his lip and sighing deeply.

"You don't look like you are," I said cautiously, barely bracing myself for another outburst.

"Earlier, that confession brought back a memory," he said after a pause.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked, worried.

"You should head home. It's getting late. Come on, I'll walk you to your car," he said, walking away without waiting for my response. Sighing, I followed him.

As I unlocked my car and was about to sit, my eyes fell on a flower bouquet.
Confused, I picked it up and a note slipped from it.

Zeeshan picked up the note before I could and looked at me, as if asking for an explanation.

"I don't know who put it here," I said, feeling an urge to explain myself.

"Put that bouquet away," he said. I nodded, setting the bouquet down and moving closer to him to look at the note.

Zeeshan opened it. It read:

"You won't stop looking for me, Ayesha Mehra, will you? It's fine. I'm in a good mood, so I'm giving you one last warning.
Stop everything. Because this time, I won't.
K.R."

Author's Pov

Somewhere in the middle of nowhere stood a huge mansion, where a man sat in his study taking slow sips of his whiskey when two of his most trusted men came running through the large doors.

"BOSS," they said in unison, dropping to their knees.

"What's the news?" he asked, his deep voice echoing through the room as he looked at them intensely, making the two shiver with fear. The cut on his face only made him look more ruthless.

"Ayesha Mehra's team almost caught two of our men," one of them said hesitantly, fear evident in his voice.

The man chuckled, almost psychotically, "aur tum log churi pehen kar baithe the?"
(And what were you doing, sitting there with bangles on your wrists?)

The two men immediately shook their heads violently, desperate to save their lives.

"Agli baar yehi sir mere kadmo mei hoga bina dhadd k, Ayesha Mehra ko ek meri taraf se pyaar bhara message bhejo. Aur ek baar aur haarkar mere saamne apni shakal mat dikhana." The two men nodded and left to carry out the task assigned to them.

(If this happens again, you will be beheaded and your head will be placed at my feet. Send a sweet message to Ayesha Mehra, and do not show your faces to me again after you lose.)

Once they were gone, he stood up and walked slowly toward the huge canvas where he had carved a stunningly realistic portrait himself.

Gazing at it softly, he ran his fingers over the surface. A psychotic laugh escaped his mouth as he took a deep sniff of the canvas.

"Soon, butterfly... soon." Muttering this with a gritted smile, he poured the entire bottle of whiskey over the portrait and, laughing loudly, set it on fire.