Author's POV
All four pillars of Kaala Darbar sat around the table-an unspoken storm brewing beneath the silence. The air was thick with authority, each of them a sovereign force in their own right.
Shaurya slid a folded piece of paper across the table toward Ryan.
Ryan picked it up, scanned it, and let out a low chuckle.
“Really, CM sahab?” His smirk didn’t reach his eyes.
With a calm ruthlessness, he tore the paper in half. The sound echoed like a warning shot.
The paper wasn’t just a note, it was an official request from the Chief Minister to R.S. Defense Academy, asking for leniency in Saaisha's training. A request to not be too harsh.
Ryan dropped the torn halves onto the table without flinching.
“Request denied.”
The message was clear: He wouldn't go soft. Not even for her.
Shaurya’s gaze didn’t flicker. He simply leaned back, lips curling into a slow, calculated smirk.
“Already thought you'll do that.”
He stood, voice deepening as it shifted from a concern to a command.
“Ryan can deny the Chief Minister. But Shaaitaan... Shaaitaan doesn’t disobey Sarkar. Now it’s an order-go easy on Saaisha.”
Ryan paused. Then bowed his head slightly-not in defeat, but in acknowledgment.
“Sorry, Sarkar. But I don’t mix personal and professional life.”
Veer scoffed, leaning forward.
“What’s personal and professional for you, Shaaitaan? You break bones in both.”
Ryan’s jaw clenched.
“Kaala Darbar was built on loyalty, justice, control. That’s personal. The Academy? That’s where I create warriors. That’s professional. And I don’t compromise there. Not even for her.”
The room stiffened.
Ryan turned to Shaurya, gaze steady.
“If you want her handled differently, find someone else.”
Shaurya’s voice was calm, but laced with warning.
“That’s the problem—I don’t trust anyone else. But I know your methods, Ryan. You don’t train, you break. Then rebuild.”
He leaned forward, eyes sharp.
“She’s already broken.”
A beat of silence passed. Then Ryan’s stare softened. Just a flicker.
He exhaled slowly.
“Then trust me completely.”
“My ways might hurt. But I’ll make her so strong, that the next time someone even thinks of touching her, she won’t just fight back—she’ll break them.”
Siya stood up, arms crossed, her voice cool and direct.
“Fine. Let’s see what happens tomorrow.”
She walked off first.
One by one, the others followed, leaving behind a single truth echoing in the room.
Tomorrow, Saaisha’s rebirth would begin.
☆☆☆☆
Rathore Mansion – 6:00 AM
The entire mansion buzzed like a circus. It was Saaisha’s first day at training and they were acting like a 5-year-old headed to school for the first time.
Saaisha was ready in white full sleeve t-shirt and white pants, her hair tied in a ponytail.
Downstairs, the breakfast table was in full swing. Their mother was setting the plates while calling out instructions.
“Come fast, beta! Have something or you'll faint halfway through training!” She sat Saaisha down and started feeding her with her own hands.
Their father entered right on cue, holding a small tiffin and two bottles-one of water, the other juice.
Shaurya walked in next.
He was dressed in a classic black kurta paired with crisp white pajamas, the contrast striking and elegant. His hair was perfectly styled, every strand in place, adding to his effortlessly charismatic presence, a quiet smile on his face as he watched them.
“I’ll drop you,” he said casually.
“Haan beta, jao,” (yes, beta go)their mom said, kissing Saaisha’s forehead. “Ache se sikhna. And don’t be scared, okay?”
Her father crouched beside her. “Agar woh zyada sataye, toh mujhe bolna. Aur agar mann na lage,if something feels wrong—just come back. There’s no rule saying you have to do this. We’ll figure something out at home. Okay, beta?”
Saaisha gave a small smile and nodded.
“All the best, Ishu!” Siya waved. Saaisha waved back, then followed Shaurya to the car.
Shaurya sat up front with the driver; Saaisha slid into the back seat. For a while, silence filled the ride.
As they neared the academy, Shaurya turned around slightly.
“Lotus,” he called gently.
She looked up, eyes meeting him.
“Listen to me carefully. Ryan might come off as harsh but he’s the best. If you're serious about this training, then focus. Fight back. He won’t go easy on you… but he will respect your limits. If it’s too much, say so. He’ll stop.”
His voice softened.
"He will break you a little, test every ounce of your patience, and make sure you fall before you learn how to rise. So rise stronger. Fight back. Show him just how unbreakable you truly are."
Saaisha didn’t blink. Her eyes held a quiet determination, absorbing every word like a promise.
She nodded once.
They arrived.
Shaurya opened the door, helped her out, and without another word, she walked into the academy.
He watched her go for a long second… and then drove away.
As Saaisha stepped into the academy, the atmosphere hit her like a wave, the air thick with sweat, grit, and the relentless rhythm of discipline. Every corner echoed with motion—some trainees were doing push-ups, others boxing with raw determination, and some mastering the art of defending themselves with precise, brutal grace.
Her eyes scanned the field. Focused, alert and then she saw him.
Ryan.
Wearing a grey vest clinging to his sweat-slicked body and black cargo pants, his biceps flexed with every movement, his jaw clenched in focus, and his sharp gaze flickered like a silent warning. He walked toward her, firm steps and unreadable expression, stopping right in front of her.
Without a word, he extended a batch.
“You’re batch number 509. From now on, this is who you are here. Understood?”
Saaisha took the badge with both hands and gave a silent nod.
Ryan’s voice then boomed across the training ground, loud enough to silence the clang of iron and the slap of fists.
“What’s the time?”
One of the trainees called out, “7:05, sir!”
Ryan’s eyes locked onto hers.
“And what did I say yesterday? Sharp seven, didn’t I?”
Saaisha quickly nodded, guilt flickering across her face.
“Go to that wall.
Wall sit.
Five minutes. That’s your punishment.”
Her eyes widened in surprise, lips parting slightly. Come on it's her first day, he could had done this from tomorrow.
“What? Don’t know how to do it?” he asked, his voice colder now.
She shook her head. Saying she knows.
“Then go. Yesterday, you were full of fire for training. Let’s see what that fire is made of.”
Saaisha turned toward the wall and took position. Her back met the concrete. Thighs parallel to the floor. Arms stretched forward. The posture looked simple but every second in it was a war.
No one dared to look at her. No one whispered. This was Ryan’s academy. Here, there was no space for sympathy, only strength.
Seconds dragged.
Two minutes in, her breath was shallow.
Three minutes—sweat poured down her temple, her thighs trembled.
By four, her spine screamed. Her legs begged to give in.
She started chanting silently: “You’re strong. You’re strong. Don’t give up.”
Ryan trained others, but his peripheral gaze was pinned to her. He watched every flinch, every twitch of pain but no softness touched his eyes.
Finally, the clock hit five.
“509,” he called out, his tone unreadable.
She tried to stand, but her legs refused. Frozen. Trembling.
Still, she limped forward, eyes down, jaw clenched.
She didn’t cry. Didn’t beg.
And Ryan watched her every movement not with cruelty, but with silent calculation.
She had shown up.
Now, the real test has begun.
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