The golden hues of the evening sun poured over Jaipur like molten gold, spilling into narrow streets bustling with life. The city pulsed with an energy unique to weddings: vibrant sarees and sherwanis glimmered in the fading light, the aroma of freshly fried pakoras mingled with the sweet scent of marigolds, and traditional music filled the air like a shared heartbeat. Yet, for all the festive fervor, an unspoken tension simmered beneath the surface, hidden from the untrained eye.
Inside the grand courtyard of Mehra Palace, laughter rang out as old friends—Sameer, Ishaan, Arjun, and Meera—reunited. Their camaraderie wrapped around them like a comfortable shawl, easing the formality of the wedding's grandeur.
"You know," Sameer said, nudging Arjun with a teasing grin, "you might be the best man, but I'm not convinced you're cut out for the job. You've been avoiding the groom's cousin like she's holding a marriage proposal with your name on it."
Arjun's face flushed as he rubbed the back of his neck, muttering, "She just laughs too much. It's unsettling."
"She probably thinks you're hilarious," Ishaan added with a chuckle, clapping Arjun on the back. "Or maybe she's just laughing at you."
Meera, ever the sharp-tongued voice of reason, chimed in. "Arjun, don't let these two get to you. Besides, it's refreshing to see you so out of your depth for once."
The group erupted in laughter, drawing a few amused glances from nearby guests. Their bond, years in the making, was a safe haven amid the opulence and polite smiles of the wedding.
But their merriment was a mask. Priya, the bride, glided through the courtyard, radiant in red and gold. Her face carried the glow of a woman celebrating her love, but her eyes betrayed something fleeting—an unease, a weight she tried to conceal.
Karan, her soon-to-be husband, approached the group with a practiced smile. He clapped Arjun on the shoulder, his eyes briefly scanning the faces around him. "It's good to see you all. Been too long since we've had this group together."
Arjun nodded, his smile faltering. "Life's been... busy."
Before the silence could stretch too far, Sameer jumped in. "Busy or not, we couldn't miss this. Karan, you've outdone yourself. Priya's glowing. Though I suppose that's your doing?"
Karan's chuckle was light, but his eyes didn't quite meet theirs. "I'm just lucky she said yes."
The group shared another round of laughter, but unease lingered beneath their smiles. Whatever secrets bound them, they remained unspoken.
The night deepened as the wedding festivities roared on, but Kavya and Envy were already on their way to their next destination.
The shift from vibrant celebration to the quiet hum of the SUV's engine was jarring. Kavya leaned against the leather seat, her gaze drifting to the man beside her.
The once-vivid world of the wedding faded into the muted hum of the SUV's engine. Kavya sat in the passenger seat, her sharp eyes scanning the darkened streets of Jaipur. Beside her, Envy was a study in stillness.
She let her gaze linger on him for a moment, noting the way his jaw tightened slightly with each turn of the vehicle. Envy was like the shadows they so often worked in—silent, deliberate, and impossible to pin down.
She couldn't help but admire him. Not just his precision or the way he moved like a machine finely tuned for their work, but the quiet strength that seemed to hold him together. Envy was a fortress, impenetrable and unyielding. He only spoke when it was necessary, every word calculated and purposeful.
"You're always so silent," she said, breaking the quiet. Her voice was soft, but it carried a note of curiosity.
Envy's eyes flickered toward her briefly before returning to the road ahead. "Words aren't always useful."
Kavya smirked, though she didn't press him further. She liked that about him—the way he kept his emotions locked away, like precious artifacts in an unmarked vault. But it made her wonder: who had he been before The Organization had claimed him? Did he ever allow himself to be vulnerable, or was he as closed off then as he was now?
She shifted in her seat, leaning slightly closer to him. "You know, it's not just about being efficient. Sometimes, people need words. Connections."
Envy didn't reply immediately, his gaze steady on the road. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, like a whisper carried on the wind. "The Organization doesn't need connections. Only results."
Kavya leaned back, her expression unreadable. She had been drawn to him since the day they were partnered. Not just because he was skilled, but because he intrigued her. Beneath that stoic exterior, she was certain there was more—a part of him The Organization hadn't completely erased.
The SUV rolled to a halt outside a small house. Kavya glanced at Envy one last time before they stepped out, leaving the muffled hum of the vehicle behind.
The safehouse, cold and clinical, greeted them as the car doors swung open. The hum of the engine fell away, replaced by the sharp scent of antiseptic and the faint hum of fluorescent lights. Ashutosh Meena, their contact, stood waiting for them inside, his eyes calculating and unyielding.
"Welcome," Ashutosh greeted them, his voice smooth, almost rehearsed. He gestured for them to sit. "I assume you understand the mission?"
Kavya nodded but stayed silent, her gaze steady on Ashutosh. Envy, as always, let the quiet linger, forcing Ashutosh to speak again.
"The wedding," Ashutosh continued, his tone clipped. "Karan and Priya's union isn't just a love story. It's a political gamble—one that certain parties can't afford to lose. Priya needs to be removed."
Kavya's fist clenched under the table, but her face remained impassive. She knew what was coming, had known since the mission briefing. Still, hearing it said so plainly sent a flicker of anger coursing through her.
"Priya's family doesn't align with the government's interests," Ashutosh added. "Her marriage to Karan threatens to disrupt the balance of power in the region. The Organization's directive is clear: ensure the wedding doesn't proceed."
Kavya finally spoke, her voice laced with frustration. "So we're pawns now? Breaking up weddings for political convenience?"
The room seemed to tighten around them, the air thick with tension. Ashutosh didn't flinch. "You've always known what you signed up for," he said calmly. "The Organization operates on a different level. There are no questions, only missions."
Kavya's jaw set in frustration, but she knew better than to argue. This was the life they had chosen, or rather, the life that had been forced upon them. The Organization wasn't about morals or principles—it was about efficiency, and that's what they were trained to uphold. No matter how dirty the job.
Envy leaned forward slightly, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "What's the plan?"
Ashutosh's lips curled into a faint smirk, as if pleased by Envy's focus. "You'll infiltrate the wedding tomorrow as security personnel. Gain access to the bride, isolate her, and eliminate the threat. Simple."
Simple. The word hung in the air like a curse.
Envy rose to his feet, his eyes sharp with determination. He had no illusions about the world he lived in. The Organization had long since removed any softness from him. It was a necessary cruelty. No matter how much it weighed on his conscience, he was still a tool—a weapon. And this mission, just like every other, would be carried out with precision.
As they made their way to the door, Ashutosh's voice followed them. "Remember, you're not there to make waves. You're there to do what's necessary."
The night air outside the safehouse was thick and heavy, the kind of air that pressed down on you, making every breath feel like a weight.
Kavya glanced at Envy, who walked beside her, his expression as unreadable as ever. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, unsure if she was ready for the words to escape.
"Do you ever question it?" she asked suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Envy didn't break stride. "No."
Kavya frowned, stopping in her tracks. "Not even for a second? Do you ever wonder who we were before all this?"
Envy turned to face her, his dark eyes meeting hers. "We're not who we were. We're what The Organization made us."
She searched his face for a flicker of doubt, but there was none. And yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that beneath his stoic exterior, he was just as haunted as she was.
They continued down the quiet street, the silence between them more meaningful
than any words they could exchange. For in that silence lay the weight of their choices—or lack thereof—and the lives they had left behind.
Tomorrow, they would step into the world of celebration and joy as unseen harbingers of chaos. And even though they would execute the mission with cold precision, the question lingered in the back of Kavya's mind: how much of themselves would they lose in the process?