Chaper 2: The Frozen Assets

​"You're late, Heer."

​His voice was a low, rhythmic vibration that seemed to command the very air in the hallway. He didn’t move, didn’t smile. He just checked his watch—a piece of silver and glass that cost more than her entire apartment.

​Heer’s breath hitched. She didn't move. "Daksh? What is this?"

​"The hallway smells like damp wood and cheap cleaning supplies," he said, finally looking up. His eyes were like two pieces of flint. "You don't belong here."

​"I live here. You’re the one who’s trespassing."

​"I'm working." He pushed off the wall, his movements slow, like a predator that knew the prey had nowhere to run. "You ran a trace on the 'V-Group' accounts today. Why?"

​Heer felt her stomach drop. "It’s my job. I’m an auditor. I find holes in the data."

​"You found a hole that was supposed to stay plugged." Daksh stopped a few feet away. He didn't touch her, but his presence was suffocating. "By 9:00 AM tomorrow, your boss will get a call. By 10:00 AM, you’ll be fired. And by noon, someone will be sent to make sure you forget everything you saw in those files."

​Heer’s hands shook as she gripped her bag. "Are you threatening me?"

​"I'm telling you the weather report, Heer. It’s going to rain, and you don't have an umbrella." He held out his hand—not for a handshake, but for her keys. "Give me the laptop. I’m going to delete the local backup you made, and then I’m going to tell them the file is clean."

​"And if I refuse?" Heer asked

​Daksh leaned in just enough for her to catch the scent of expensive sandalwood and cold metal. "Then I stop being the man you knew in high school, and I start being the man they paid to fix this. You don't want to meet that man, Heer. Trust me."

Heer fumbled with the lock, her pulse thumping in her fingertips. The door groaned open into a dark, silent apartment. She reached for the light switch, but Daksh’s hand got there first.

​Click.

​The warm glow of the lamp revealed her living room, but it didn't look the same. Her laptop was already open on the small dining table. A chair had been pulled out. Beside it sat a glass of water—half-empty.

​Heer’s breath hitched. "You’ve been in here. For how long?"

​"Long enough to know you still use your birthday as your password," Daksh said, walking past her like he owned the square footage. He didn't take off his coat. He stood by the table, looking at the glowing screen. "Rule number one for a Forensic Auditor, Heer: don't be predictable. It’s how people get caught."

​"Get out," she whispered, the shock finally turning into a sharp spark of anger. "You can’t just walk into my life and start giving me 'rules.' This isn't high school, and you aren't my tutor."

​Daksh turned slowly. The coldness in his eyes was absolute. "In high school, I tutored you so you wouldn't fail a test. Right now, I’m here so you don't end up as a footnote in a police report. Sit down.

​"No." Heer protested

​He didn't raise his voice. He didn't have to. "The V-Group isn't just a corporate client, Heer. They are a front for people who don't have a pulse. You flagged a three-million-dollar transfer. That money was meant for a recovery operation. My recovery operation."

​Heer felt the air leave her lungs. "You... you were the recipient?"

​"I'm the Specialist they hired to bring back what was stolen," Daksh said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous silk. "But because you put a 'Hold' on that transaction, my assets are frozen. And when my assets are frozen, I get impatient."

​He stepped toward her, forcing her to back up until her calves hit the edge of her sofa. He leaned down, his face inches from hers, the scent of expensive sandalwood and cold rain clouding her senses.

​"You wanted to find the ghost in the machine, Diamond? Well, you found him. Now, you’re going to log into your lab’s remote server, and you’re going to clear that flag. Right now."

​Heer looked up at him, her eyes wide but defiant. "And if I don't? If I report this?"

​Daksh’s hand moved, not to hurt her, but to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The touch was terrifyingly soft.

​"Then I stop being the man protecting you," he whispered. "And I become the man they sent to recover the three million. Tell me, Heer... what do you think you’re worth on the open market?"

The cursor hovered over the beneficiary name, a ghost from her past breathing through the screen: Avinash Lab Solutions. It wasn't just a corporate shell; it was her father’s signature at the bottom, dated long after his funeral, proving that her grief had been a lie and her life was the only collateral left. As the blue light reflected in Daksh’s unblinking eyes, she realized the "Recovery Specialist" wasn't here to save her—he was here to collect her.

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