Shaurya's POV

“I’m Shaurya Singh Rathore.”

Silence.

She blinked once.

Twice.

Then slowly turned her head, grabbed the notepad and pen from the nightstand, and scribbled something.

“Okay… and?”

I blinked. “What do you mean ‘and’?”

She flipped to the next page with dramatic flair.

“You said that like I’m supposed to faint or something. Is that your job? Dramatic introductions?”

I stared at her. Was she seriously—

“Yes, actually. Most people react.”

She tilted her head, unimpressed. Scribbled again.

“Well, I’m not most people. And you are acting as if you're some kind of celebrity.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’m the Chief Minister of Delhi.”

Another pause. She stared at me, then let her eyes scan me from head to toe.

Slowly. Offensively slowly.

Then wrote—

“And I’m Queen Elizabeth.”

I stared at her. “I’m serious.”

She wrote again, not even looking impressed.

“You really should get that God complex checked.”

My brow arched. “You’re being sarcastic.”

She flipped another page.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

I exhaled slowly, folding my arms. “I just told you I run the capital of the country.”

She held up the notepad like a protest sign.

“So does Batman. What’s your point?”

That made me blink.

Then she smirked.

My subconscious voice chimed in: Not even ten minutes and she's humbled you. Iconic.

“Do you even believe me?”

She tilted her head, mock-thinking. Then wrote—

 “You wear too much black to be a politician.”

I tried not to laugh.

“Terrorists believe me. Mafia bosses fear me. Even journalists don’t argue with me.”

She scribbled:

“Congrats. Add delusional to the list.”

I choked on air. “Excuse me?!”

She shrugged innocently and wrote again.

 “You don’t look like one. Politicians are usually… older? Like, 40 or something. You don’t even have a paunch.”

“I’m twenty six, youngest cheif minister of the country. And no, I don’t have a paunch, because I’m not a corrupt 90s neta with a gut and a paan stain.”

She pursed her lips to hide a grin. That damn notepad moved again.

 “Still not convinced. Could be a prank.”

This woman.

With a sigh, I pulled out my phone, searched my name, and handed it over.

She took it, glanced… then blinked.

Then blinked again.

The smugness melted.

Oh yes, there it was—the disbelief settling in.

She slowly scribbled again.

“Ohh… Now I get it.”

My brows lifted. “Get what?”

She looked up, stone-faced.

“Why you always act like the room belongs to you.”

“Because you’re a politician.”

My jaw dropped. “That’s what you took away from that?!”

She held up the notepad again, already writing.

 “Also explains why you give orders like you’re narrating a national emergency.”

Subconscious me, lounging dramatically: She’s not wrong.

I glared. “Are you mocking me?”

 “Only a little.”

I leaned forward, voice low. “You do realize I run this state, right?”

She grinned.

 “And yet, you couldn’t even handle me for five minutes without getting trolled.”

Okay. That’s it.

I stared at her, genuinely speechless.

She gave a cute shrug, leaned back against the pillow with that devilish spark in her eyes, and lifted her notepad one last time.

“Now go on, Mr. Chief Minister. Run your state. I’ll just be here, being a national issue.”

I was done. Completely done.

Subconscious me? Rolling on the floor. Applauding.

But a thought crossed my mind. I wanted to test her—see how she reacted under pressure.

So I took a risk.

I know it’s bad, but I kept a stone face and glared.

“How dare you talk to me like that. Do you have any idea what I can do with you, huh…”

I started moving towards her like she was my prey.

And then she gave me a look—

No, a glare—that screamed don’t you even dare come close.

But still, to see what she’d do next, I moved closer.

She looked around like she was searching for something.

Then, without hesitation, she picked up the lotus lamp from the table, ready to throw it at me.

I immediately took a few steps back, covering my face on instinct.

But the lamp never came.

So I peeked from behind my arms—

She was patting the lamp like it was a pet, placing it gently back on the table.

And then—

She bent down and picked up a slipper.

“What the—” My eyes widened like saucers.

“Pagal ladki! Main mazak kar raha tha! Keep that slipper down. For god’s sake—I’m the reputed Chief Minister!”

And I literally ran out of the room.

 I caught her grinning like she hadn’t just mentally karate-chopped my ego.

A slight smile played on my lips.

To the world, she was this quiet, wounded girl with soft eyes and a tragic story.

But to me?

She was a wild kitten—sharp claws hidden behind those innocent eyes, ready to pounce the moment I let my guard down.

And damn…

I liked it because it shows she’s not going to give up. She’s going to fight and punish the monsters who dare to do this to her.

But now one thing was clear—I needed to talk to them.

I pulled out my phone and shot a message to the group.

“Meet me. Now.”

Kaala Darbar - Underground Meeting Room

Late Evening

I sat in the chair at the head of the long, dimly lit table.

Across from me—Veer, Ryan, and Siya.

Siya was busy typing on her tablet, legs crossed, eyes sharp. Ryan leaned back, chewing gum like he had all the time in the world, while Veer was looking at my sister like a lovesick puppy, completely ignoring the chaos happening around.

My fingers drummed once on the table before I spoke.

I looked straight at Siya.

“What’s the progress?”

She didn’t look up. Just kept typing. “Give me ten seconds and I’ll make your blood boil.”

Ryan popped his gum. “Let’s hope it’s not like last time where we ended up chasing a drunk MLA who thought the dark web was a dating site.”

Siya rolled her eyes. “That was one time, and at least I didn’t threaten to hang a guy upside down from India Gate.”

Ryan smirked. “Was effective though.”

I raised my voice . “Focus.”

Siya sighed, turned the tablet, and slid it toward me.

“We’re all set. No one will know he’s in India, not New York. And yes—it’s 100% confirmed that he’s the one who molested that girl. The lawyer and judge were bribed, that’s why all the evidence was corrupted and used against the girl. They even claimed she initiated it. The judge declared it ‘wasn’t an attempt to rape,’” she said, rage flickering in her eyes.

“After bail, his father sent him on vacation to celebrate. He doesn’t know his son has been abducted by our men—and could be here any minute,” Veer added, a smirk playing on his lips.

“So let’s make him feel what punishment actually looks like,” I said.

Ryan leaned forward. “Slow and painful?”

I looked him in the eye.

“Very.”

I leaned back in my chair, and asked

“And what about that girl?”

Veer’s lips curled into a smile. “The one you call Lotus, Sarkaar?”

I raised a brow. “Yes. Lotus. Any problem?”

Siya crossed her arms, annoyance written all over her face. “Yeah, there is a problem, bhai. I don’t think she’s from Delhi.”

I turned to her.

“I’ve checked everything,” she said, pulling out her tablet again. “College databases, office ID records, housing societies—even Aadhaar-linked entries. There’s no trace of her anywhere. I’m damn sure she’s not from Delhi.”

I stared at Siya for a moment, then said calmly, “Of course she’s not.”

She froze.

Then slowly gave me a full-blown betrayal stare. “What do you mean, 'of course she’s not'? You could’ve said that earlier, I wouldn’t have wasted my nights and a Red Bull addiction searching Delhi’s every corner!”

I held up a hand. “Don’t look at me like that—I also found out just now. That’s why I called you all here.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Wait—what do you mean?”

I exhaled, looking between the three. “I introduced myself to her as the Chief Minister of Delhi…”

“And?” Veer asked, squinting.

“She didn’t believe me.”

Silence.

Then—Siya blinked. “Wait. What?!”

Ryan snorted. “You mean… someone didn’t recognize your face? Man, that’s gonna bruise the ego.”

My subconscious, ever dramatic, chin in: tell them the whole conversation, how she trolled you sarkar.

Veer leaned forward. “Did you ask her where she’s from?”

I shook my head. “No. I didn’t want to trigger her. She’s… complicated. She speaks through notes. One wrong question and she might shut down.”

“I can't say them that i forget to ask that because i was busy in teasing her” i thought

“Ohh… sarkar let me.correct you. Not teasing her instead getting trolled by her” ughhh my subconscious not againn..

Siya sighed. “So what now?”

“Start searching beyond Delhi,” I said. “Cross-reference facial scans with inter-state databases. Focus on the north first—Uttarakhand, Punjab, Himachal, Uttar Pradesh.”

Siya nodded slowly. “Alright. But bhai, I’ve already checked missing complaints in each state. There’s no report that matches her face or description.”

I frowned. “Then we wait. She’ll drop something eventually. A clue. A memory. Anything.”

Veer leaned back, thoughtful. “She’s hiding in plain sight. That’s rare.”

Ryan tilted his head. “And dangerous.”

I murmured, more to myself than them, “Who are you, Lotus… and what are you running from?”
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