Some cases don’t reopen. They walk back into your life.
Work swallowed her whole.
Hours passed unnoticed—no food, no water, no sense of time. Aarohi Malhotra remained locked inside her cabin, surrounded by files, numbers, strategies. This was how she had built her empire—relentless focus, zero distraction.
Two years.
One spine.
An entire empire.
The phone rang.
She picked it up without checking the name.
“Hello, princess.”
A rare smile curved her lips.
“Hi, Cheekuu.”
Vikram Malhotra—her chachaji. Her father’s brother. The only constant after everything broke.
“How are you, beta?” he asked warmly. “You didn’t come to meet me last time. Make it up tomorrow? I have a lot to talk about—and I’ll cook your favourite rajma chawal.”
“That’s so sweet of you,” she said softly. “I’ll be there for dinner. Promise.”
“Oh finally,” he chuckled. “After four months. I missed you a lot.”
Her eyes welled up.
“I missed you too… Cheeku.”
The call ended, but the ache stayed.
Her mother—who left.
Her father—who was murdered by his own partners.
She had watched it happen.
Frozen. Silent. Powerless.
After that, Vikram took her in. Raised her like his own daughter. Never married. Built Blackspire Global—a twenty-year legacy that ruled industries across the world.
A knock pulled her back.
“Come in.”
Kavya entered. Aarohi didn’t look up.
“Miss… it’s past eleven,” Kavya said gently.
“Should I bring you something to eat?”
Aarohi finally glanced at her. “Why are you still here? Your working hours ended.”
Concern flickered across Kavya’s face. “You haven’t eaten. It’s raining. You’re still working—”
“Go home.”
“But—”
One look.
Kavya nodded instantly. “Yes, Miss.”
She left.
The firm went dark—every light off except Aarohi’s cabin. Rain tapped against the glass, its scent filling the air. When she
finally shut the file, it was 1:04 A.M.
She grabbed her blazer and walked out.
Rain poured relentlessly. The engine hummed softly as she drove, streetlights blurring into streaks of white.
Then—
Flashbacks struck.
Gunshots.
Blood.
A gold ring.
Her grip loosened.
Control slipped.
CRASH.
A body appeared in front of the car.
Aarohi regained consciousness within seconds.
Panic steadied her.
She rushed out—rain soaking her clothes as she lifted the unconscious girl from the road and placed her into the car.
Straight to the hospital.
Doctors took over.
She called Kavya.
Fifteen minutes later, Kavya arrived and took charge while Aarohi stood frozen—still trapped between past and present.
The doctor approached.
“She’s stable. But we found a high dosage
of drugs in her system.”
Kavya frowned. “Her age? Duration?”
“Around eighteen. Judging by the symptoms, she’s been consuming for nearly three months.”
Aarohi listened from a distance.
Her eyes hardened—sirens again.
“She’ll regain consciousness by morning,” the doctor added.
Kavya turned to her. “Miss, I’ll handle everything. The driver is outside. Please go home.”
Aarohi stood.
Without a word, she walked out—took the car herself and left.
___________________________________________
Morning.
The phone rang.
“Miss,” Kavya said, “she’s awake. She wants to meet you. She says… she knows something about you.”
“I don’t have time for this kind of shit,” Aarohi snapped.
She was about to disconnect—
“Aaru diiiii.”
The voice echoed down the corridor.
Aarohi froze.
No one had called her that in years.
Her breath hitched.
___________________________________________
Flashback
A nine-year-old Aarohi ran barefoot in the garden. Beside her, a four-year-old girl dug her tiny hands into the soil.
“Shivi,” Aarohi scolded seriously, “mitti nahi khate.”
Shivi giggled. “Aaru diduuuu—chhodooo! Mujhe khana hai!”
She fake-cried, trying to shove mud into her mouth.
“No means no,” Aarohi said firmly, cleaning
her hands. “Dramebaaz.”
“Aarohi!” Raghav Malhotra ( aarohi's father ) laughed from the table. “Strict bhi ho aur cute bhi.”
While Nandini Malhotra ( Aarohi's mother ) was recording all the scene her and taking pictures.
Baldev Raichand ( shivi's father and Raghav's bestfriend and business partner .... Shivi's mother dies when she was born ) shook his head, amused. “Beta, isko tum hi sambhalo. Meri beti toh mitti pe hi zinda rahegi.”
Shivi sneezed.
Aarohi instantly wiped her nose.
She ran to grab tissues—and spilled them
everywhere.
Shivi burst into giggles.
Tea spilled. Snacks fell.
Laughter filled the garden.
Innocence ruled the moment.
___________________________________________
Back to Reality
Aarohi stood outside the hospital room.
Inside was Shivanshi Raichand—Shivi.
Her baby sister.
Tears streamed down Aarohi’s face as Shivi whispered everything—
After her father died, she had nowhere to
go.
shivi Stammered and sobbed " T- they killed him , h-he was wearing M-mask"
Aarohi hugged her tightly.
“Shh- shh ... I’m here,” she promised. “I’ll take care of you. Always. I promise baby ”
Kavya arranged everything—medical care, protection, privacy and give her a flat to live after discharge from hospital . Aarohi ordered her to get every information about shivanshi by tomorrow .
But something cracked inside Aarohi.
" Cheeku said Baldev uncle killed my father.
Then why the Baldev uncle was killed ?
Why the same pattern?
Was Vikram lying?
Or did he know only half the truth?
And who was this man who kept killing?"
___________________________________________
Aarohi’s POV
I almost forgot about dinner.
Kavya reminded me.
I warned her—if anything happened to my baby sister, it would be the last day of her job. Maybe worse.
I changed—black high-neck top, black leather pants, leather jacket. Drank juice. Left.
An hour later, I reached Cheeku’s house.
Silence.
I rang the bell.
Nothing.
Someone moved behind me.
Before he could react, my gun was aimed at him.
“Whoa… relax,” a familiar voice laughed. “You never disappoint me, honey.”
I smiled. Didn’t flinch.
“Cheeku. What if I had shot you?”
He laughed. “You’re my daughter. I know you better than you know yourself.”
“No,” I sighed. “You taught me these tricks. That’s why I could’ve killed you.”
We both laughed.
“Come,” he said warmly. “I made your favourite.”
I wanted to tell him about Shivi.
But something stopped me.
My instincts screamed—not yet.
During dinner, I said casually, “Can you recommend someone for the position of Chief Strategy and Compliance Officer? Mr. Khanna resigned.”
Vikram nodded. “I heard. You cancelled his licence. I’m proud of you.”
“I don’t like praise,” I muttered.
He looked disappointed.
“Except when it’s from you,” I added.
He smiled. “I’ll recommend someone honest.”
Dinner ended in laughter.
I hugged him and left—
With a storm brewing inside me.
Because this time,
I wouldn’t trust anyone blindly.
Not even family.
And I would investigate the truth—
myself....
** Predator mode was on — and this time, she wasn’t
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