The dawn broke over the Thorne estate, but the light brought no peace. Inside the master suite, the air was heavy with the smell of antiseptic and the lingering tension of the night before.
Reyansh stirred, his eyelids heavy as if weighed down by lead. His body felt like it had been crushed under a ton of bricks. As his consciousness slowly returned, the first thing he felt was a cool, soft touch on his forehead. It was soothing, a stark contrast to the fire burning in his arm. He leaned into the touch, a low, subconscious groan escaping his throat.
Sia was sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes red from lack of sleep. She was changing the cold compress on his forehead. For a split second, as their eyes met in the dim morning light, the walls between them vanished. Reyansh looked at her—not as an enemy, but as the woman who had stayed up all night to keep his fever at bay.
"You're awake," Sia whispered, her voice raspy. She tried to pull her hand away, but Reyansh was faster. Despite his weakness, his grip was like a vice around her wrist.
"Why are you still here, Sia?" he asked, his voice a dry shadow of its usual power. "I told you to leave. I told you I didn't want your pity."
Sia didn't flinch. She looked at his hand on her wrist, then back at his pale face. "And I told you, I don't leave wounded animals to die. Now, let go. I need to get your medicine."
"Not until you admit it," Reyansh growled, pulling her closer. The sudden movement sent a jolt of agony through his injured arm, making him hiss, but he didn't let go. He pulled her until she was hovering mere inches above him. The Unwanted Romance flared up like a live wire. Sia could feel his ragged breath on her skin, and for a moment, the memory of his lips on hers—back when he was just 'Rey'—flashed through her mind like a lightning bolt.
"Admit what, Reyansh?" she breathed, her heart hammering against her ribs.
"That this isn't just 'humanity.' That you feel this... this pull... just as much as I do." His eyes were dark, swirling with a mixture of feverish obsession and raw desire. He reached up, his thumb tracing the line of her lower lip.
Sia felt a shiver run down her spine, a traitorous thrill she hated herself for feeling. She leaned in, her lips almost brushing his ear, and whispered, "What I feel, Reyansh, is disgust. Every time you touch me, I remember my father's face when you threw him into that basement. Every time you look at me, I see the man who used love as a weapon. If you want to call this a 'pull,' then call it what it is—a tether to a nightmare."
She wrenched her arm free and stood up, smoothing her saree with trembling hands. Reyansh watched her, his chest heaving, his pride stung more than his wound.
An hour later, the bedroom door opened again. This time it was Gayatri. She was carrying a bowl of soup, but her expression was uncharacteristically soft. She looked at Sia, then at her son.
"He needs to eat, Sia," Gayatri said. She turned to Reyansh. "And you... you need to stop fighting the people who are trying to help you. Sia has been by your side all night."
Reyansh looked away, staring at the ceiling. "I didn't ask her to be."
Gayatri sighed and sat at the foot of the bed. "Your father was the same way. Stubborn until the very end. But he didn't have someone like Sia. He had secrets that ate him alive." She paused, her gaze flickering to Sia. "Sia, beta... I know you're going to the bakery today. Vikram told me he's arranged for extra security. But before you go... there's something in the study. Something Reyansh's father left behind. Maybe it's time you saw it."
Sia's heart skipped a beat. She thought of the brass key hidden in the folds of her saree—the key with the clipped hawk.
By afternoon, Sia found herself in the grand library of the Thorne mansion. Reyansh was still confined to bed under Dadi's strict orders. Sia approached the heavy mahogany desk that had belonged to Reyansh's father. Her fingers traced the wood until she found a small, hidden keyhole tucked under the drawer.
With trembling hands, she pulled out the brass key. It fit perfectly.
As the drawer slid open, it didn't contain gold or documents. It contained a single, weathered leather-bound diary and a photograph.
Sia picked up the photo. It was a picture of two men standing together, laughing. One was Reyansh's father. The other... was her father, Deepak. But they didn't look like enemies. They were wearing matching lapel pins—the same Clipped Hawk emblem.
"What are you doing in here?"
The voice was like a whip. Sia spun around to find Reyansh leaning against the doorframe. He was pale, leaning heavily on a cane, his shirt half-unbuttoned, revealing the bandages beneath. His eyes were fixed on the photo in her hand.
"Where did you get that key?" he demanded, his voice dropping to a dangerous level. He limped toward her, his presence instantly suffocating the room. He snatched the photo from her hand, his eyes widening as he saw the emblem.
"My father... and yours?" Reyansh whispered, his grip tightening until the photo crinkled. "They were part of the same group? The same people who destroyed our family's reputation?"
"Reyansh, look at the date," Sia said, pointing to the back of the photo. "This was taken after the supposed betrayal. If my father had destroyed yours, why were they still together?"
Reyansh's face contorted with rage and confusion. He grabbed Sia by the shoulders, pinning her back against the desk. The sudden proximity was overwhelming—the heat from his body, the scent of his skin, and the raw fury in his eyes.
"Is this another lie, Sia? Did you plant this here? Is this another game played by you and your father to make me doubt the truth?"
"The truth is staring you in the face!" Sia shouted back. "You've spent years hating a ghost! Look at the emblem, Reyansh! This hawk... it doesn't belong to my father. It belongs to a third party. Someone who played them both!"
Before Reyansh could respond, his phone buzzed on the desk. An unknown number. He swiped it open, his jaw clenching as he read the message:
"The key opens more than just a drawer, Reyansh. It opens a grave. Tell Sia to be careful at the bakery today... fires have a habit of restarting."
Reyansh's eyes snapped to Sia, a sudden, cold dread replacing his anger. At the same moment, the distant sound of a siren echoed through the hills.
Sia's phone rang. It was Vikram. His voice was frantic, drowned out by the sound of crackling flames.
"Bhabhi! Don't come to the bakery! It's... it's all going up! Someone locked the doors from the outside, and I... I think there's someone still inside!"
Sia's blood ran cold. The bakery—her only dream, her only escape—was burning. And the secret of the Clipped Hawk was about to be buried in the ashes.
"Reyansh..." Sia whispered, her eyes filling with tears.
Reyansh didn't say a word. He grabbed his keys, ignoring the pain in his arm, his eyes burning with a dark, lethal fire. "Get in the car, Sia. If they think they can burn down what belongs to me, they're about to find out why I'm called a Thorne."
✨ Author's Note ✨
The past is catching up, and it's carrying a torch! 🕯️🔥 The bakery is in flames, and the secret of the "Clipped Hawk" is deadlier than anyone imagined. Were Reyansh's father and Deepak actually partners in a bigger game?
The mystery deepens, and the heat between Reyansh and Sia is becoming impossible to ignore. 🥀
Don't leave the story hanging!
📚 Add to your Library to see if they can save the bakery!
💎 Drop your Power Stones to help Reyansh find the truth!
💬 Comment your theories—who is the person trapped inside the fire?
The next chapter will change everything... stay tuned! 🌟