2.

Author's POV

Shivantika crouched silently behind the thick bushes lining the outer boundary of the estate, damp earth pressing against her knees. Cold wind slipped through the trees, carrying the scent of rain and wet leaves. Above her, clouds drifted across the sky, swallowing most of the moonlight and leaving the forest wrapped in shifting shadows.

From where she hid, she had a clear view of the mansion gates. Armed guards stood posted at every entrance point, alert and motionless beneath the floodlights. Their rifles rested against their chests, their eyes constantly scanning the surroundings.

Shivantika had expected security. She just hadn’t expected this much of it.

For nearly fifteen minutes, she stayed hidden, silently studying their movements, counting rotations, searching for a blind spot that didn’t seem to exist.

Then headlights appeared through the trees. A large van rolled toward the gates.

Instantly, she lowered herself deeper into the bushes, barely breathing.

One of the guards stepped forward and raised a hand.

“Stop there. No outside vehicles beyond this point,” he ordered sharply. “Everyone gets down and walks in.”

The rear doors of the van opened.

Women began stepping out one after another, dressed in glittering costumes layered with coins and silk, their faces partially hidden behind decorative veils.

Belly dancers.

Shivantika’s pulse quickened.

This was the first opening she had seen all night.

The guards barely paid attention to the women themselves. Most of their focus remained on checking the driver and inspecting the vehicle.

The dancers were already being hurried toward the entrance by an irritated event coordinator.

“Move quickly,” the woman snapped impatiently. “Sir is about to come downstairs.”

The last dancer lingered behind near the van, adjusting part of her costume.

Shivantika moved.

She slipped from the shadows and reached the rear side of the van unnoticed.

The woman turned slightly at the sound of movement, confusion flashing in her eyes just as Shivantika covered her mouth tightly with a cloth.

The dancer struggled instantly, muffled sounds escaping against the fabric as she tried to pull away.

“I’m sorry,” Shivantika whispered under her breath, tightening her grip as the woman’s movements gradually weakened.

It took longer than she expected. By the time the dancer finally lost consciousness, Shivantika’s own breathing had become uneven with panic.

Quickly, she dragged the unconscious woman inside the van and shut the door quietly behind them.

Outside, voices continued near the gates. “No delays!” someone shouted.

Shivantika swallowed hard and forced herself to move faster.

She exchanged their clothes hurriedly, hands trembling more from adrenaline than cold. The shimmering blue costume felt unfamiliar against her skin.

She adjusted the matching veil over her face until only her eyes remained visible.

Then she tucked the small dagger securely into the hidden strap beneath the layered fabric around her thigh.

Before stepping out, she looked once at the unconscious dancer lying in her clothes below the seats.

“I really am sorry,” she whispered again. Then she stepped down from the van. The guards barely glanced at her this time.

The dancers were already late, and the staff seemed far more concerned about getting everyone inside before the performance began.

Still, one guard narrowed his eyes as she passed. “What took so long?”

Shivantika forced herself not to react. “Costume issue,” she answered quietly, lowering her gaze.

The guard stared another second before another man behind him muttered impatiently, “Just let her through.”

After a brief pause, he stepped aside. Shivantika walked forward calmly, though her heartbeat pounded so violently she thought someone might hear it beneath the music drifting from inside the mansion.

As she crossed through the gates, the full estate finally came into view.

The mansion rose from the middle of the forest like something unreal — massive white stone walls, towering pillars, enormous windows glowing gold against the darkness. Lanterns lined the pathway, their reflections flickering across polished black marble wet from the approaching rain.

For a brief second, she understood why people feared men like Vardan.

Power looked beautiful from a distance.

Inside, the mansion was even more overwhelming.

Crystal chandeliers cast warm light over the enormous hall. Velvet curtains framed the walls. Expensive perfume, liquor, and cigar smoke lingered heavily in the air while wealthy guests laughed softly over music playing in the background.

Everything about the place radiated control. Money. The kind powerful enough to bury evidence and silence people.

Shivantika forced herself to focus. She wasn’t here to admire any of it.

A hand suddenly touched her shoulder. She turned sharply before seeing another dancer beside her.

“Where were you?” the woman whispered hurriedly. “We’re about to start.”

“I had to fix my costume,” Shivantika replied smoothly.

The dancer nodded distractedly and pulled her toward a waiting room where the remaining performers stood preparing themselves.

As Shivantika entered, she exhaled slowly beneath the veil.

So far, nobody has stopped her.

Strangely, that frightened her more than it reassured her.

A few moments later, an event coordinator entered the room. “Everyone to the stage. Sir will be here any minute.” The dancers immediately began filing out.

Shivantika followed with them. From the corner of the grand hall, she finally saw him.

Vardan descended the staircase slowly, dressed in a perfectly tailored white suit, his posture calm and self-assured. Conversations quieted almost instantly around him.

Even from a distance, his presence commanded attention without effort.

“Welcome, everyone,” he said smoothly after reaching the bottom step. “Tonight marks the success of our agreement with Mr. Williams. Thank you all for being here. Enjoy the evening.”

Applause filled the hall.

Then the lights dimmed.

Music began.

The dancers stepped onto the stage one by one.

Shivantika followed their movements carefully, matching every motion with controlled precision. The sound of coins stitched into the costumes blended with the rhythm of the music as the performance unfolded beneath golden lights.

She stayed focused.

One wrong movement. One moment of hesitation. That was all it would take.

When the performance finally ended, applause erupted through the hall.

The dancers bowed before exiting together toward the dining area.

Everyone went with them.

Except Shivantika.

The moment she slipped away toward the opposite corridor, a maid noticed her almost immediately. “Where are you going?”

Shivantika turned calmly despite the sudden spike of panic in her chest.

“My costume clasp loosened,” she explained. “I just need a mirror.”

The maid looked at her briefly before nodding. “Come. Use one of the guest rooms upstairs.”

Shivantika followed her toward the staircase, keeping her pace measured despite the tension building inside her chest.

As they reached the upper floor, silence replaced the noise of the party below.

The maid opened the first guest room along the corridor.

“You can use this one,” she said. “Nobody comes upstairs during parties.”

“Thank you.” The maid nodded and left.

Shivantika waited until the footsteps disappeared completely before stepping back into the corridor.

One room after another turned out empty.

Guest rooms. Storage. Private lounge.

Then she reached the final door at the far end of the hallway. Larger than the others.

Something about it immediately felt different. Carefully, she opened it. Her instincts were right.

The room was unmistakably his. Dark colors dominated the interior- black, charcoal grey, muted gold. Expensive cologne lingered faintly in the air alongside cigar smoke.

Rain lashed violently against the balcony windows.

Shivantika moved quickly toward the desk and began searching through the drawers.

Documents. Contracts. Financial papers.

Nothing useful.

Then her fingers paused over a file containing shipment records and handwritten notes.

Not proof. But enough to lead somewhere. Enough to matter for her.

She slipped the papers carefully into the leather file just as footsteps echoed outside the room.

Her entire body went rigid.

Someone was approaching. Without thinking, she hurried toward the balcony and stepped outside into the pouring rain, closing the glass door carefully behind her.

Cold water instantly drenched her clothes and skin.

Inside the room, the door opened. Shivantika pressed herself tightly against the wall beside the balcony entrance, barely breathing.

A man entered. She could only see parts of him through the rain-streaked glass. Tall, broad shoulders, movements sharp and alert.

He scanned the room slowly. For one terrible second, she thought he had noticed the open drawer.

But after another moment, he turned away. The door shut again. Shivantika exhaled shakily.

She reached for the balcony handle when a hand suddenly seized her arm and slammed her hard against the wall. A gasp escaped her lips.

A masked man stood directly in front of her, rain soaking through his white shirt, water dripping from dark strands of hair onto his forehead.

His grip tightened painfully around her arm. His eyes shifted downward toward the file in her hand. Then slowly, dangerously, his hand lifted toward her veil.

Fear hit her instantly.

Not controlled fear. Not calculated fear but pure survival.

Before he could pull the mask away, Shivantika yanked the dagger free from beneath her skirt and drove it forward blindly.

The blade sank into his side.

His body jerked sharply.

A strained breath escaped him as his grip loosened just enough.

Shock flashed through her own chest the moment she realized what she had done. She shoved him backward with all her strength and ran.

Rain hammered against her skin as she rushed back into the room clutching the file tightly against her chest. Behind her, she heard movement again-

Then-

Bang.

The gunshot exploded through the corridor.

Pain tore through her left arm instantly. A scream escaped her throat before she could stop it.

Her body stumbled violently against the wall as blood began running down her sleeve.

For a second, her vision blurred completely. But she forced herself forward.

She ran through the corridor breathing unevenly, one hand pressed tightly against her bleeding arm.

Footsteps and voices were already beginning to echo downstairs.

They knew.

By the time she reached the far side of the corridor, her breathing had become ragged. Pain pulsed violently through her injured arm.

Her hands were shaking so badly she almost dropped her phone while dialing. The call connected immediately.

“Shivi?” Aria’s voice came instantly, panicked. “What happened?”

“I need you here,” Shivantika whispered through uneven breaths. “Now.”

“What?” Aria asked.

“I can’t get out alone.”

There was silence for half a second before Aria answered immediately. “I’m coming.”

Shivantika lowered herself behind a marble pillar, struggling to stay conscious as footsteps echoed nearby.

Then she heard heels approaching. A woman turned into the corridor, clearly disoriented after taking the wrong path.

Shivantika closed her eyes briefly. She hated this. But she had no choice anymore.

Moments later, after another struggle and another apology whispered under trembling breath, she dragged the unconscious woman into an empty room and changed quickly into the black gown she found her wearing.

Her wounded arm burned violently as she tied cloth tightly around it to slow the bleeding.

The dancer costume was now on the body of the unconscious woman.

The stolen file remained hidden beneath the folds of the gown. When she finally stepped downstairs again, the mansion had descended into chaos.

Guards rushed across the hall shouting orders into radios. Guests looked confused and frightened.

Still keeping her head lowered beneath the large hat and dark glasses, Shivantika walked steadily toward the entrance.

Almost there.

One guard suddenly blocked her path. “Sorry, ma’am. Nobody leaves right now.”

Shivantika nodded quietly and turned away-

Then shoved him hard enough to throw him off balance before sprinting toward the doors.

“Stop her!”

Shouts erupted instantly behind her. Gunfire exploded through the courtyard.

But even through the panic and pain, one thought flashed sharply across her mind.

They still weren’t aiming at her directly. She didn’t understand why. And right now, she didn’t have time to.

A motorcycle suddenly burst through the front driveway.

Aria.

The bike skidded sharply beside her. Shivantika climbed onto the back immediately, gripping tightly despite the pain shooting through her arm.

“Hold on!” Aria shouted.

The bike accelerated violently across the rain-soaked driveway as guards rushed toward the gates.

The massive iron gates were already beginning to close. Aria lowered herself over the handlebars and pushed the bike faster.

For one terrifying second, it looked impossible. Then the motorcycle shot through the narrowing gap just before the gates slammed shut behind them.

Gunfire echoed faintly through the storm as the bike disappeared into the darkness of the forest road.

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