Authors pov
Kabir booked the tickets the moment Sona said India. His fingers flew across the phone, jaw ticking as he locked in the earliest flight possible. Riya hovered beside him, muttering under her breath, "Please don't pick the one with no legroom, Kabir, I beg"
But Kabir didn't even blink.
Comfort wasn't the priority.
Getting home was.
While he handled logistics, Sona drowned herself in the quiet battlefield of her mind.
Paris had turned into a corpse of memories: too still, too stained, too silent. She walked the length of the hotel suite like a lioness pacing her cage. Her eyes weren't soft anymore; there was calculation in the shadows beneath them. Every breath she took seemed to sharpen her intent.
And then
She picked up her notebook.
Her old, battered notebook.
The one she had filled during her years of stalking Arjun.
Kabir and Riya exchanged a silent glance. That notebook wasn't just paper. It was a weapon. It carried patterns, timings, anomalies, instincts… every page a surgical cut into the truth.
Sona flipped through the pages, brows tightening as inked memories collided with the present.
Her voice cut through the room.
"Kabir."
He looked up instantly.
"Roy's and Kapoor's rivalry…" she muttered, eyes narrowing as lines rearranged themselves in her head. "We always dismissed it as business ego, family pride… but the depth of it"
She stopped flipping.
Stopped breathing.
Because her eyes landed on something she had written over a year ago.
A note on the Kapoors' personal assistant.
A man named Naveen.
Quiet. Loyal. Always two steps behind Arjun's father.
Always watching.
Sona froze.
Riya leaned in. "What is it…?"
"That man in Paris," Sona whispered, voice like a blade's kiss. "The one who followed us in the market. The one in the black coat."
Kabir frowned. "Yeah…?"
"That wasn't some random creep."
Her pulse thundered.
"That was Naveen. Kapoor's PA. Arjun's own damn family's right-hand man."
Riya's jaw dropped. "Wait. Are you saying"
"Yes."
Sona slammed the notebook shut.
"He followed us before the accident. The SUVs behind us? All registered in Mumbai and Delhi. Registered under shell companies owned by the Kapoors."
Kabir's breath hitched.
"And the truck?" Sona continued, voice flat. "The angle, the timing, the pattern… it wasn't an underworld hit. It wasn't ransom. It wasn't random."
Her eyes burned.
"It was orchestrated. By them."
Kabir stood abruptly. "Sona, hold on"
"No. Listen."
Her tone cut him off.
"Who benefits if Arjun disappears?"
"No ransom demands."
"No public appeals except for cameras."
"No actual movement behind the scenes."
Riya shivered. "But… why would Arjun's family do something to their own son? It makes no sense."
Sona laughed softly.
The kind of laugh that shouldn't belong to someone so young.
The kind that made Kabir swallow hard.
"It makes perfect sense."
She began pacing again.
"They hated us. Hated the Roy's. Hated me. Hated Arjun choosing me. They tolerated his education abroad only because it benefited their image. But the moment he broke the mold"
She looked up.
"they took him back."
Riya's hand flew to her mouth.
Kabir whispered, "Kidnapped? Their own son?"
"Worse."
Sona's voice dripped venom.
"They made it look like a public tragedy. They painted themselves as grieving, panicking parents… but even their panic was staged."
She opened the news clips Kabir had saved.
Local channels.
National media.
Every single Kapoor interaction looked loud, theatrical, rehearsed.
"Real panic isn't loud," Sona murmured. "It's silent. It's ugly. It's desperate. Their panic was polished. Curated. For sympathy."
Kabir ran a hand through his hair. "So they faked this whole"
"Yes."
Her eyes darkened.
"And the Roy's didn't say anything because of me."
Riya blinked. "What?"
Sona inhaled, chest rising and falling with the crackle of revelation.
"My parents weren't silent because they were guilty. They weren't hiding something. They were staying quiet because I was in the hospital fighting for my life. Their daughter. Their only child."
She clenched her fists.
"They didn't give a damn about the accusations. Or media. Or society."
A small, twisted smile curled her lips.
"They only cared about me breathing. They didn't want to overwhelm me with more stress."
Kabir whispered, "So the Roy's hired a private detective to find Arjun instead?"
"Yes. Quietly. Efficiently."
She nodded slowly.
"They didn't scream in front of cameras. They acted."
Riya sat down, speechless at the unraveling truth.
"And the Kapoors?" Sona said softly.
"They played helpless victims while orchestrating the attack. They made sure the truck hit us at the right angle. They made sure Arjun vanished. They made sure every lead dead-ended."
Her smile sharpened.
"Because losing their son publicly makes them martyrs. And controlling him privately makes them powerful."
Kabir exhaled. "And we… we were blind."
"Not anymore."
Sona's eyes glinted with something feral.
"Now we know who we're hunting."
Kabir sat beside her. "Tickets booked. Tomorrow morning."
Riya squeezed Sona's hand. "We're going home."
Sona nodded, a dark calm settling over her.
"India awaits," she whispered.
"And so do the Kapoors."
The morning of their flight carried a strange heaviness, like the world itself knew what was coming.
Paris was still in its half-awake gloom when Sona, Kabir, and Riya stepped out of the hotel with their luggage. The taxi's headlights sliced through the fog, turning their faces into pale, determined silhouettes.
No chatter.
No jokes.
Just unspoken urgency.
They reached Charles de Gaulle Airport before dawn, the sky still an ink spill stretching over steel and glass. Kabir guided the girls through the crowd, weaving like he had memorised every route out of this city.
"Keep your passports ready," he muttered. "We go straight to security."
Riya nodded, clutching hers with trembling fingers. Sona held hers loosely, as if she didn't need paper to cross borders. Her mind had already reached India. Already at the Kapoors' doorstep. Already cutting through lies like silk.
But the moment they handed over their documents…
Something shifted.
The airport officer frowned. He didn't scan the passports. Didn't ask routine questions. His fingers drummed on the desk once, twice… then he pressed a silent buzzer under the counter.
Kabir's brows knitted.
Riya's breath hitched.
Sona simply stared.
Within seconds, two more officers approached.
"Excusez-moi… there seems to be… a problem," one of them said stiffly. "We need you three to come with us."
Kabir stepped forward. "Problem? With what? Our documents are valid."
"Yes, monsieur, but they have been flagged."
"Flagged how?" Riya snapped. "We didn't do anything."
The officer avoided her gaze.
"Please… come with us."
The tension cracked like thin glass.
Security escorted them out of the boarding line, down a quiet corridor, past empty rooms that smelled of metal and disinfectant. Sona's eyes narrowed as every step echoed too perfectly.
The room they entered was small, cold, cage-like.
An interrogation room.
Kabir's fury simmered visible beneath his skin, but he held back. "What is this?"
The officer placed three files on the table.
"Your passports have been reported as linked to an ongoing investigation."
"What investigation?" Kabir demanded.
The officer folded his hands.
"Murder."
Riya paled. "W–what the hell…"
Sona blinked once, slow, unamused.
The air tasted wrong. Too rehearsed. Too intentional.
Kabir slammed his palm on the table. "We didn't kill anyone! That accusation is already cleared with the Paris police, weeks ago!"
The officer didn't even react. "We have orders to detain all three of you until further notice."
Kabir cursed under his breath. Riya clung to his sleeve.
Sona leaned back in the chair, gaze locked on the officer.
"Show the warrant."
"We are not required to"
"Show. The. Warrant."
Her voice didn't rise. It dropped, low and lethal.
The kind of tone that didn't request. It commanded.
The officer stiffened. "We have official instruction from the Indian consulate"
Sona's expression twisted. Slightly.
Too slightly.
So that's how far this went.
The Kapoors had influence there too.
The officers stood straighter, signalling to security.
Two guards stepped inside.
"You will be held in temporary custody until we verify the authenticity of your documents."
Riya gasped. "Custody? This is insane!"
Kabir tried arguing, pushing back, pulling out every scrap of logic, but the officers didn't budge. Their faces were carved from stone, eyes politely blank.
"Take them," the leader said.
Handcuffs snapped. Cold metal bit their wrists.
Riya cried out. Kabir cursed.
Sona only stared ahead, breathing slow, calculated, dangerous.
They were escorted through a quiet hallway toward the holding cells.
Fluorescent lights flickered overhead, humming like broken neon insects.
But Sona felt him before she saw him.
A familiar presence.
A familiar stench of false loyalty and polished shoes.
And then—
A figure stepped into view.
Naveen.
Arjun's family's PA.
Standing with papers in hand, talking to another officer.
He turned slightly…
looked straight at Sona…
…and smiled.
Not a friendly smile.
Not even a mocking one.
A knowing one.
A this is all happening exactly the way I planned one.
Sona blinked.
Her pulse stayed calm.
Kabir, however, froze.
"You have to be kidding me"
Riya grabbed his arm to keep him from lunging.
But Sona took one slow step forward, her chains clinking softly.
Naveen's smirk widened a fraction, like he was delighted she understood.
She stared right back.
Her lips curved into the smallest, coldest smile he'd ever seen.
She didn't blink.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't breathe wrong.
She simply told him, without a single word:
You've made the biggest mistake of your life.
Security shoved her forward.
The cell bars clanged open with a metallic groan.
Kabir and Riya were pushed inside first.
Sona was the last.
Just before the door slammed shut, she looked over her shoulder…
Naveen was still watching.
Still smirking.
He thought he won.
He thought he had stopped her.
He thought she was trapped.
But Sona
Arjun's stalker.
The girl who could smell fear and lies like perfume.
The girl who walked into hell if it meant dragging her man back out
She simply tilted her head at him.
A predator taking note of her prey.
And Naveen's smirk flickered.
Just a little.
Before the bars sealed shut, Sona whispered under her breath, voice soft enough only she could hear:
"Run while you still can."