Chapter Two The Girl Who Should Have Died

Rain poured heavily over Rajasthan the night Samaira disappeared.

By morning, the news channels spoke only about the assassination of the Chief Minister of Madhya Pradesh. Politicians called it a tragic attack. Media called it a conspiracy. Nobody spoke about the girl covered in blood beside his body.

Because officially—

she did not exist.

And maybe that was why disappearing became easy.

Three days later, Samaira sat near the window of a small apartment in Jaipur, staring blankly at the untouched cup of tea beside her. Her hands still trembled whenever she remembered the gunshots. Sometimes she woke up gasping in the middle of the night, hearing her own voice screaming for her father again.

Blood.

There was blood everywhere.

Closing her eyes only made it worse.

The orphanage had been burned down hours after the murder. Not publicly. Quietly. Like someone was erasing evidence that she had ever lived there.

And Samaira understood the message clearly.

Run.

She had changed her phone, her address, even her surname. Nobody could know who she was now. Nobody could know she was the last surviving bloodline.

But fear followed her anyway.

Every black car outside made her heartbeat uneven. Every unknown number felt dangerous. She stopped sleeping properly. Stopped smiling. Stopped living.

The only thing keeping her sane was work.

Coding became her escape from grief. Numbers were easier than emotions. Screens were safer than people.

Yet no matter how hard she tried, she could not erase the image of him from her mind.

Abhinav Singh Razaid.

She did not know his name yet. Only his face.

Cold eyes. Calm expression. Standing silently beside death itself.

A man who looked terrifyingly emotionless while her world collapsed.

Meanwhile, miles away inside the grand Razaid palace, silence ruled like violence.

Abhinav stood near the massive glass window of his office while rain struck the city below. His father’s voice echoed sharply behind him.

“She survived.”

Those two words were enough to darken the entire room.

Abhinav remained silent.

“The girl from the orphanage,” his father continued coldly. “The last bloodline is alive.”

A dangerous stillness settled inside Abhinav’s chest.

He remembered her face clearly.

The tears. The trembling hands covered in blood. The way she begged her father not to die as if her entire soul was breaking apart in front of everyone.

For the first time in years, something about revenge had felt… ugly.

“She needs to disappear permanently,” his father said.

Abhinav finally turned slowly. “I’ll handle it.”

Those words should have sounded like a death sentence.

Instead, they sounded personal.

Because something about Samaira refused to leave his mind.

She looked nothing like the monsters he had heard about since childhood. Nothing like the bloodline he was raised to hate. She looked soft. Broken. Human.

And somehow, that disturbed him more.

Later that night, one photograph landed on his desk.

Samaira entering an office building in Jaipur.

Alive.

Abhinav stared at the picture for a long moment before picking it up slowly. Rain shadows darkened his face while silence filled the room again.

Then finally, his lips moved.

“Find out everything about her.”

Not to protect her.

Not yet.

upcoming

They were born to destroy each other… yet somehow became each other’s weakness.

But somewhere deep inside the darkness he carried, hatred had already started turning into something far more dangerous.