The apartment buzzed with the easy warmth of friendship as Alisha, Neha, Khushi, Vivan, and Varun lounged on the sofas, their laughter mingling with the clink of empty plates. Vivan's piercing gaze settled on Alisha, his voice laced with curiosity. "So, I hear you're playing bodyguard for some hotshot in Delhi?"Alisha's eyes widened, darting to Neha and Khushi, who shook their heads, silently swearing their secrecy. Vivan's smirk deepened. "Don't look at them, Ishu. I know everything—every step you take, every day. But I want the story straight from you."With a sigh, Alisha spilled the tale to Vivan and Varun—the boy's accident, Samrat's life-saving surgery, the seven-month contract binding her as his bodyguard. Varun's grin was instant, mischievous. "Well, damn! Someone's finally taming our wild Ishu!"Vivan's glare silenced him. "Zip it, Varun." His eyes softened as they met Alisha's, concern flickering. "Did I do the right thing, Vivan?" she asked, her voice tentative.He rested a hand on her head, his touch grounding. "You did. He helped you—it's your duty to repay him. You're stronger than this, Ishu."Her smile bloomed, Vivan's faith a lifeline. The day slipped away in their shared laughter, a fleeting oasis before the storm.The Next EveningA dazzling business party awaited Samrat Oberoi, and Alisha was to shadow him as his bodyguard. In his sleek Delhi office, Samrat reached for his phone to call her when a knock echoed. "Come in," he said, his tone cool.The door swung open, and a bright "Good evening, boss!" rang out. Samrat turned, his jaw dropping. Alisha stood before him, a vision in black—black pants, black shirt, black gloves, black shoes, her ponytail tied with a black ribbon. A Bluetooth earpiece gleamed, and a bulletproof vest hugged her frame. She looked less like a bodyguard and more like a spy ready for a high-stakes mission."What is this?" Samrat asked, amusement dancing in his eyes.Alisha glanced at herself, unfazed. "Your bodyguard, obviously. This is the look. I've seen it in movies."Samrat sighed, pinching his nose. "Bodyguard? You look like a spy about to infiltrate a secret lair.""It's fine, isn't it?" she shot back, smirking."Whatever. Let's go." He paused, eyeing her vest. "Where'd you get that bulletproof jacket?""A friend. Police inspector," she said casually.Samrat nodded, striding ahead. Alisha followed, her confidence unshaken, every step radiating power.The PartyThe venue glittered with opulence, chandeliers casting golden light over Delhi's elite. As their car pulled up, the driver opened Samrat's door, and he stepped out, his presence commanding instant attention. Alisha fell into step behind, her all-black ensemble drawing gasps. Before entering, Samrat leaned close, his voice low. "Your job is to keep any girls from getting near me."Alisha's brow furrowed, irritation sparking. Handsome, sure, but this cocky? she thought. He's not even inside, and he's expecting a fan club. Arrogant jerk.Still, she followed, her stride so confident she seemed a guest, not a guard. In her dark attire, she wasn't a bodyguard—she was a mafia queen, her aura pulsing with danger and allure. Every eye on Samrat shifted to her, captivated. Unfazed, Alisha kept pace, her focus razor-sharp.As Samrat moved forward, a girl rushed toward him, arms outstretched. Alisha intercepted, gently pushing her back. "Sorry, miss, please keep your distance."The girl glared. "Who are you?""His bodyguard," Alisha said coolly. "Excuse us." She guided Samrat away, leaving the girl stunned.Samrat glanced back, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Not bad."Alisha winked. "Try me."His soft chuckle cracked his stoic facade, and they pressed on.The party's energy shifted as Vivan and Varun made their entrance, cutting striking figures in tailored suits. Vivan's intense aura and Varun's roguish charm turned heads, whispers rippling—Kapoor Industries' rising stars. Their presence was electric, their names tied to wealth and ambition. Vivan's eyes scanned the room, locking briefly on Alisha, a subtle nod passing between them, a silent Black Squad signal. Varun, ever the charmer, worked the crowd, shaking hands with tycoons while keeping Alisha in his sights, protective yet playful. Their arrival hinted at deeper stakes—Kapoor Industries' shadow loomed, potentially clashing with Samrat's empire or fueling Black Squad plans.Samrat, deep in conversation with a business partner, didn't notice their entrance, but Alisha's pulse quickened. Vivan and Varun, here? Their presence screamed purpose, and she sensed trouble brewing.As Samrat's discussion wrapped, a man approached, his smile oily. "Hello, Mr. Oberoi. Been a while.""Mr. Dutt," Samrat replied, his tone flat."I heard you've moved to Bangalore," Dutt probed.Samrat's eyes narrowed. "You seem awfully curious about my personal life."Dutt faltered, then pivoted. "Actually, I wanted to discuss your new hotel's assets."Alisha sensed the conversation's weight and stepped away, giving them privacy. She lingered nearby, admiring the venue's lavish decor—golden drapes, crystal flutes, a symphony of wealth. Samrat glanced at her, noting her discretion, and turned back to Dutt.Dutt's gaze slid to Alisha, his tone slimy. "Your bodyguard's quite young, isn't she?"Samrat's jaw tightened. "Is that relevant to the assets?""Sorry, sorry," Dutt backtracked, but his eyes lingered on Alisha. "Just curious—is she really your bodyguard?"Samrat followed his gaze, catching the lecherous glint in Dutt's eyes. "Yes," he said, his voice ice.Dutt's grin turned vile. "Just a bodyguard, or your bed buddy too?"Samrat's stare was unyielding, a storm brewing. Dutt, oblivious, pressed on, his gaze raking Alisha. "No big deal if she's warming your nights. She's stunning—those eyes, those lips, that neck…" His eyes dipped lower.A scream tore through the party. Alisha spun, her heart lurching. Mr. Dutt was on the floor, blood gushing from his mouth, a broken glass bottle lodged in his face. Samrat stood over him, his face a mask of rage, his knuckles white. The crowd froze, gasps echoing.Alisha sprinted to Samrat, her instincts screaming. Did Dutt attack him? Guilt crashed over her—she'd left him alone, failing her duty. "Boss, are you okay?" she asked, scanning him for injuries. Finding none, she exhaled, but Samrat's fury was palpable, his eyes burning.Without a word, he seized her wrist, dragging her through the stunned crowd toward the exit. Alisha stumbled, apologies spilling out. "I'm sorry, boss, I'm so sorry. I thought he just wanted to talk. I failed my duty. I should've stayed. It's my fault. Please forgive me."Samrat didn't respond, his grip tight as he pulled her to the parking lot. Her pleas continued, a frantic litany of "sorry" until they reached the car. He spun, his voice a thunderclap. "Shut up!"Alisha flinched, stepping back, fear flickering in her eyes. Samrat's anger was a living thing, raw and terrifying. "Get in," he barked.She obeyed, sliding into the passenger seat, her heart pounding. Samrat took the driver's seat, peeling out with reckless speed. The car roared through Delhi's streets, the silence between them suffocating. Alisha stole glances at him, his jaw clenched, eyes fixed ahead. She didn't dare speak, her courage faltering under his wrath.Minutes later, the car screeched to a stop outside her apartment. Alisha blinked, stunned—he knows my Delhi address? She murmured a quiet "Thank you," but Samrat didn't respond, his gaze locked forward. She stepped out, and the moment she entered her building, Samrat sped off, tires screaming.Inside, Alisha took a shaky breath, climbing to her flat. She knocked, and Neha opened the door, her smile fading at Alisha's pale, haunted expression. Khushi emerged from the kitchen, where she'd been cooking, and froze. "Ishu, what's wrong?" Neha asked, guiding her to the couch.Alisha buried her face in her hands. "I messed up. Everything. It always goes wrong. I'm a disaster.""Tell us what happened," Neha urged, her voice gentle.Haltingly, Alisha recounted the party—the girls she blocked, her step away for Samrat's privacy, Dutt's supposed attack (or so she thought), Samrat's violent reaction, and his furious silence. Khushi placed a hand on her shoulder. "Ishu, this wasn't your fault."Neha nodded. "Exactly. You thought they were discussing business. How could you know Dutt would provoke him? You're not his lifelong bodyguard—just temporary. Anyone would've assumed the same."Khushi chimed in, "If he hires a permanent guard, he won't trust them at first either—not until they prove their loyalty. Don't beat yourself up. Samrat's fine, isn't he? That's what matters."Alisha's voice trembled. "But he was so angry. I think he'll fire me."Khushi scoffed. "Fire you? He's a tycoon, not an idiot who sacks someone over a small mistake."Neha grinned. "And if he does? You didn't want to work for him anyway, right?"Alisha hesitated. "No, I do now. I made a mistake, and I want to fix it."Their faces lit up, Neha's smile wide. "That's my girl!""But what if he fires me?" Alisha asked, fear creeping back."Then beg for another chance," Neha said. "Show him your real strength next time."Alisha frowned. "Why should I beg?"Neha rolled her eyes, tapping Alisha's head. "Dummy, if you want to fix your mistake, you own it. Asking for a chance doesn't make you small—it shows you're serious."Alisha nodded, resolve hardening. "Okay, I get it." Neha and Khushi pulled her into a tight hug, their warmth easing her turmoil.Pulling back, Alisha asked, "Has Vivan come by?"Khushi's eyes widened. "Oh, I forgot to tell you! His luggage is here—he was at the same business party as you and Samrat. Didn't you see him?""I did," Alisha said. "He said he'd be back soon, but he's still not here."Khushi waved it off. "It's a business party. He's probably schmoozing clients. Don't worry, he'll be back."Alisha nodded, settling into the couch. "You guys eaten?" she asked."We were waiting for you and Vivan," Khushi said.Alisha smiled faintly, and they dug into chips, watching movies to pass the time. One film ended, then most of the sequel, but Vivan still hadn't returned. Anxiety gnawed at Alisha, and she grabbed her phone, dialing Vivan.He picked up, his voice calm. "Hello?""Guru, where are you? Come back already!" Alisha urged. "I'm here, watched two movies, and we're starving waiting to eat with you.""You haven't eaten?" Vivan asked, surprised."Not until you're here," Alisha said. "Your three besties are wasting away. Hurry!"Vivan chuckled. "Give me fifteen minutes. I'm on my way."Alisha hung up, relieved. But across town, Vivan's reality was darker. Before him lay Mr. Dutt, bloodied and broken, the man who'd insulted Alisha. His face was a wreck, a cloth gagging his pleas. Vivan's eyes were cold, merciless—a Black Squad enforcer, not just Alisha's mentor. He'd tracked Dutt after the party, enraged by whispers of his vile words. With a final, brutal kick to Dutt's face, he knocked him out, the man collapsing in a heap.Turning to his secretary, Rajat, Vivan's voice was ice. "By morning, this filth is on the street."Rajat nodded. "Yes, sir."Unbeknownst to Vivan, Samrat had issued a similar order to his secretary, Rahul, his own fury mirroring Vivan's. Both men, bound by their outrage over Dutt's words, had unleashed vengeance, their paths converging in a storm of retribution, with Alisha at the center.
What fuels Samrat and Vivan's brutal vengeance, and how will their actions ensnare Alisha? Will Vivan's return expose his Black Squad motives or deepen the Kapoor Industries enigma? And as Alisha vows to redeem herself, can she navigate Samrat's wrath—or the secrets threatening to unravel her world? Delhi's shadows are tightening, and the truth is a dangerous spark.