The night air in Mumbai was thick with the hum of distant traffic, neon lights flickering against the darkness. Abhay Rajpoot stood by his office window, staring out at the sprawling city below. But his mind wasn't on the empire he controlled.
It was on Ruhi.
There was a puzzle in her eyes, a story beneath her calm facade that didn't fit the role of a simple secretary. And Abhay never ignored his instincts.
—---
[Scene 1: Digging into the Past]
The dim glow of the computer screen reflected in Abhay's cold, calculating eyes as he navigated through encrypted databases, using connections from both his corporate network and his underworld contacts.
"Ruhi Sharma," he whispered to himself, her name feeling both familiar and foreign.
But the deeper he dug, the more inconsistencies appeared.
No concrete records of her past beyond a certain point.
Gaps in her academic and employment history.
A trail too clean, almost as if someone had intentionally erased her real identity.
Abhay's jaw tightened. "Who are you really, Ruhi?"
—---
[Scene 2: The Risky Move]
Meanwhile, in the apartment Abhay had provided for her, Ruhi meticulously prepared for her next move. The DNA samples she had collected so far weren't enough. She needed more—something definitive.
Blood.
Her plan was dangerous, but time was running out. The American scientists were growing impatient, pressuring her for results. She decided to stage another "accident"—this time within the office itself.
The next day, Ruhi entered Abhay's office with a stack of files. As she approached his desk, she pretended to stumble, spilling coffee across the documents.
Abhay reacted instantly, his reflexes sharp as he reached to steady her. But in that brief touch, he felt something off. Her heartbeat was too fast—not the flustered rhythm of embarrassment, but the controlled tension of someone acting.
Ruhi apologized profusely, her hands trembling just enough to seem genuine. But Abhay's sharp gaze didn't miss the small, sterile wipe she discreetly used to dab at the coffee—perfect for collecting his skin cells.
"You're good," Abhay thought silently, masking his growing suspicion with a charming smile. "But not good enough."
—---
[Scene 3: The First Crack]
Later that night, Abhay sat alone in his study, replaying every interaction with Ruhi in his mind. The way she always found reasons to be near him, the subtle questions she asked, the faint trace of tension beneath her perfect smile.
He poured himself a glass of whiskey, his mind sharp despite the late hour.
"You're not here by accident," he whispered to himself, staring at the glass as if it held answers. "You're here for me."
But why?
As Abhay's suspicions grew, Ruhi stood on the balcony of her apartment, staring out into the same night sky, unaware that the man she was observing had already started observing her back.
—End of Chapter 21—