Luca’s POV
As she disappeared into the shadowed hallway of the college building, her silhouette swallowed by the beige walls and noise of young lives, something lingered.
Something unshakable.
I leaned back in my seat, watching the glass doors swing shut behind her. I’d seen people walk away from me—thousands of them. Some terrified. Some obedient. Some never came back. But Khushi walking away felt different. It didn’t feel like something leaving. It felt like something unfinished.
Was this what it felt like?
I didn’t want to name it. Not yet. But the weight in my chest, the ache just behind my ribs—that was new.
And then my phone rang.
Viko.
I picked it up instantly. “Yes?”
“We’ve got information on Iyer. It’s... extensive. You’ll want to see this personally,” Viko said, calm but firm.
That snapped me out of the daze.
“I’ll be at the villa in twenty,” I replied, hanging up before I could think of an excuse to linger near her any longer.
I started the engine. But as the streets of Delhi blurred past me, all I could think of was her laugh, her expression when she talked about her placements, the slight frown between her brows when she thought too hard, the way she subconsciously tucked her hair behind her ear when shy. My hands tightened on the steering wheel.
She was worried about the price of lunch—that hesitation, the concern in her eyes. That’s why I’d walked away while she read the menu. Not because I needed space. But because I needed to make sure she wouldn’t worry about money.
I had called Stefano then. It was his restaurant after all.
The memory played in my mind as I turned onto the expressway, driving faster.
—
FLASHBACK: CALL WITH STEFANO
“Luca?” Stefano answered almost immediately, his voice gruff with curiosity.
“I need you to do something,” I said, voice low. “Quietly. No names.”
He grunted. “You’re at one of my places?”
“Yes. With someone.”
A pause. “You’re never with anyone at my places.”
“That’s why I’m calling.”
“What do you need?”
“I want the restaurant to run a special couple event—make it seem like it’s happening today only. Something playful. Free lunch if they stay for a long time. Make it elegant. Fun. Real.”
Another silence.
“Luca,” Stefano said slowly. “You’re not telling me something.”
I exhaled. “I will later.”
“Is she important?”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to.
“Done,” he said. “But if I don’t get to see her face, I’ll riot.”
—
FLASHBACK ENDS
I smiled faintly at the memory. Stefano had always been blunt. But he’d sensed it too—my shift. That’s why he did that photograph thing.
The photo.
God, that moment. Her hands on my chest, her breath so close. I’d nearly lost control. I wanted to close the distance—wanted to taste the air between us. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Not yet. She didn’t know who I truly was. And a kiss… it would’ve burned through all our fictions.
But still, standing there with her inches from me, her heartbeat matching mine—it didn’t need a kiss. It already felt like something irreversible had happened.
I pulled into the villa gates, the heavy iron archway parting with a hiss of hydraulic breath. Two guards nodded as I entered. I walked straight to the meeting room.
Inside the meeting room, the air buzzed with tension. The heavy oak doors clicked shut behind me as I stepped in. Everyone was present—Viko already standing near the projector, Masha seated beside a laptop, Stefano lounging in a corner chair with arms crossed, Mahmoud silent and alert, and both Dev and Aditya leaning over the table as schematics loaded.
I took my seat at the head.
“Let’s start,” I said. “What have we got?”
Viko spoke first. “We started digging into the remnants of Iyer’s communication logs—burner phones, back channels, crypto wallets. Since you terminated him, we’ve had a clear path to access his safehouse data. Masha decrypted most of it.”
He nodded to her. She tapped a key, and a flowchart lit the screen—names, question marks, shadowed images, connecting lines.
“Iyer wasn’t acting alone,” Masha said. “But the deeper we go, the more… invisible it becomes. Most of his contacts are either missing, dead, or untraceable. But one name keeps resurfacing—‘Samar.’”
“Samar,” I repeated. “The name he whispered before I killed him.”
“Yes. We believe Samar was Iyer’s handler,” Viko explained. “Or at least the liaison between him and ‘Them.’”
A hollow feeling settled in my chest.
“Do we have a location?”
“Not exactly,” Dev said. “But we found a digital ledger—he received five crypto transactions from an account tagged to a ghost company: Azov Dynamics. That’s not a real firm. It’s a shell. Registered in Estonia, dissolved twice. We’re tracing their trail through Hong Kong next.”
Mahmoud chimed in. “But here’s the key point. The final transaction sent to Iyer from Azov Dynamics was one week before he died. There’s a message embedded in the code—just six words: ‘Your mission ends. Prepare for erasure.’”
My stomach turned. “‘Erasure’?”
“It’s how they eliminate exposed links,” Masha said. “Once a pawn like Iyer fulfills his purpose, they make him disappear—either quietly or by fire.”
“But they were too late,” Stefano added grimly. “You got to him first.”
I nodded slowly. “So now Samar is cleaning up their mess.”
“Yes,” Viko confirmed. “And not just that. We believe Samar is already in Delhi. The same encrypted call signature that Iyer once used has been reactivated—only this time, the device moved from Mumbai to Gurgaon within the past 24 hours.”
“So the snake’s in the grass,” I said. “And he doesn’t know we’ve lit the field.”
Aditya leaned forward. “Do we have visuals?”
“No,” Masha said. “Samar’s untraceable—no digital identity, no surveillance hits. But if we cross-reference the financial network with current property leases and drone scans, we might pinpoint a hub.”
I stared at the board. Lines and ghosts and riddles.
“Anything else?” I asked.
Viko looked reluctant, then said, “There’s one more thing.”
He hit a button and a red folder icon opened on the screen.
“We accessed a deleted chain from Iyer’s terminal. It’s heavily corrupted, but one phrase survived. A directive sent from higher up in the hierarchy. It said: ‘Target must remain unaware. His bloodline matters.’”
Silence fell like a blade across the table.
“Bloodline?” Stefano echoed. “You think they were talking about—”
“Me,” I said. “They were watching me long before I knew.”
No one spoke.
“Or they were watching someone connected to you,” Mahmoud added cautiously.
My thoughts snapped to the girl with the starfire smile. Khushi.
No. It couldn’t be. It had nothing to do with her.
Still, the hairs on the back of my neck rose.
“What do you want us to do next?” Masha asked.
I stood slowly. “We find Samar. We expose the rest of Iyer’s network. And we burn through Azov Dynamics like acid. I want their files, their operatives, and every whisper of ‘Them’ brought to me.”
Everyone nodded.
“Stefano, I want you to trace ownerships connected to Azov—properties, restaurants, warehouses, nightclubs, anything that could be a front.”
“On it,” he said.
“Viko and Masha—monitor the crypto channel. If Samar receives another payment, I want to know what he’s being paid for.”
“Yes, boss,” Viko replied.
“Mahmoud and Aditya—start canvassing Faridabad and Noida. Follow heat signatures, supply trucks, underground movement. Look for abandoned buildings with high power consumption.”
“We’ll get you something,” Aditya promised.
“Good. Dismissed.”
They began to move, slipping out with precision and discipline. I remained in the room, letting the silence thicken until it wrapped around my ribs like threadbare silk.
We weren’t chasing Iyer anymore.
We were chasing phantoms.
But I would catch them. I had to.
And if they were watching my bloodline…
Then maybe they weren’t after me.
Maybe they were after someone else.
Maybe they were already watching her.
—
I made my way up to the rooftop, needing the open air, the sinking sun. The city below was just noise and light, but up here, the world breathed differently.
Stefano joined me moments later, holding two glasses of wine.
He offered me one.
I took it.
“So,” he said, sipping. “She was beautiful.”
I exhaled a sharp laugh. “You’re too predictable.”
“Too curious,” he corrected. “You called me, asked me to arrange the most romantic charade in the world, then showed up with a girl like that?”
I said nothing.
“She looked at you like you’d hung the moon. And you looked at her like... like you’d finally found something worth stopping for.”
My grip on the glass tightened.
He tilted his head. “Is she going to be a problem?”
“She’s not a problem,” I said quietly. “She’s... not part of any of this.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that? Because I saw your eyes in that photograph. You weren’t pretending. Neither was she.”
I didn’t answer.
He stepped beside me, resting his arms on the railing. “You always told me you’d never let anyone in again. After what happened to your family... after Russia... after Milan.”
I looked away. The sky was red now, the sun half-eaten by the horizon.
“You always said love was weakness.”
“I still believe that,” I said softly.
“Do you?” he asked.
I didn’t reply.
We stood in silence.
Then he muttered, “You think ‘They’ know about her?”
That got my full attention.
I turned sharply. “No. They can’t.”
“Can’t or shouldn’t?” he asked, voice suddenly sharp.
“She’s not involved,” I said again. “She’s just... light. Something good.”
He studied me for a long time.
“Then keep her out,” he said finally. “Because if they do find out... they won’t hesitate.”
He walked away, leaving me with the dying sun and a mind full of thunder.
I stood there long after he’d gone, eyes on the skyline.
Khushi’s laugh. Her hands on my chest. Her breath against my cheek.
I didn’t want her to be part of this world.
But what if she already was?
And if she wasn’t...
What would I have to become to keep her safe?
___
Hey guys hope you like this part. Thank you for reading the story till now. Do like for the chapters and comment your reviews in the comment section.
Stay tuned to read and experience the beautiful love story of Khushi and Luca😁😍
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