The footsteps echoed down the dark hallway—
fast, frantic, desperate.
Riyan tightened his grip around my wrist just enough to keep me behind him, yet close.
"Don't let go," he whispered.
I nodded, my pulse pounding so hard I could barely hear anything else.
We moved quickly through the narrow corridor of the West Wing, the air thick with dust and dread. Every shadow looked like it might come alive.
The footsteps grew louder—
then stopped.
Silence.
A suffocating, dangerous silence.
Riyan held up a hand, signaling me to stay still. He edged forward, muscles tense, eyes sharp.
"Come out," he said, voice low, controlled. "Hiding won't save you."
No answer.
Just the faint sound of breathing—
not mine,
not his.
Someone else was here.
I clutched his sleeve with trembling fingers.
Suddenly—
A figure darted out from behind an old wooden cabinet.
A blur of dark clothing, fast enough to be almost invisible.
"Run!" I gasped.
But Riyan was already chasing them.
The hallway exploded into motion—the intruder sprinting toward the far exit, Riyan right behind him, knocking over dusty furniture as he chased.
I followed as quickly as I could, the thundering of my heartbeat drowning out everything else.
The figure reached the end of the hall—
a locked door leading to the servants' staircase.
They yanked at the handle.
It didn't budge.
Riyan was closing in.
The intruder panicked, grabbed something from their pocket, and threw it onto the floor.
A tiny metallic object skittered across the tiles.
By the time Riyan dodged it, the intruder smashed the window beside the door and leapt out.
Glass shattered everywhere.
"Damn it—!" Riyan lunged forward but stopped himself. The drop was too dangerous.
The stranger disappeared into the night.
Chest heaving, Riyan stepped back from the broken window, jaw clenched, hands shaking from adrenaline.
I reached him, breathless. "Are you okay?"
He didn't answer immediately.
His eyes were fixed on the object lying on the ground.
The thing the intruder had thrown.
I followed his gaze.
It was a USB drive.
Black.
Small.
Unmarked.
Placed exactly where he would see it.
Riyan bent down slowly, picking it up with a trembling hand.
"This wasn't to attack," he murmured.
"It was to distract."
"To distract from what?" I whispered.
He turned the USB over in his fingers.
"To make sure we didn't see them escaping," he said softly. "Which means they weren't here to steal something."
I swallowed hard.
"They were here to leave something."
Riyan looked at me—his expression a mixture of fear and realization.
He straightened, gripping the USB tightly.
"We need to see what's on this."
Before we could move, a sudden voice echoed from deeper inside the wing.
"Riyan? Aarvi?"
We both froze.
The voice belonged to his mother.
Footsteps hurried closer.
Riyan's jaw clenched. "Not now."
"We shouldn't be in here!" I whispered.
He quickly slipped the USB into his pocket just as his mother appeared at the corner, her expression twisted with shock and anger.
"What are you both doing in this place?" she gasped. "Riyan—have you lost your mind? This room is forbidden! This entire wing is—"
Her eyes darted behind him toward the shattered window.
Her breath caught.
"Oh my god… someone was here."
Riyan stepped forward, face emotionless.
"Mother. Leave the wing. Now."
She blinked. "You're not in a position to order me—"
"Now."
His tone wasn't angry.
It wasn't loud.
It was final.
She stiffened, lips trembling.
Her eyes moved to me briefly—accusing, fearful, resentful—but she turned and left without another word.
When she was gone, I finally exhaled.
Riyan walked toward me slowly, his expression unreadable.
He reached into his pocket and held up the USB.
"This," he said softly, "is connected to Arjun."
My breath hitched.
"How do you know?"
He swallowed.
"Because the intruder wouldn't have risked coming here unless it was related to him."
A pause.
"And someone doesn't want us to know what's inside."
A shiver rushed through me.
"Riyan… what if this USB has the real truth?" My voice shook. "What if it proves Arjun wasn't destroyed by me at all?"
Riyan's eyes softened—just slightly.
"Aarvi…"
He hesitated.
"For the first time… I'm starting to think the same thing."
My heart stuttered.
It wasn't forgiveness.
It wasn't trust.
But it was something.
A crack in the wall he had built around his pain.
He looked toward the main hallway, his voice steady again.
"We're opening this tonight."
"Together?" I asked quietly.
He nodded once.
"Together."
For the first time since I entered this mansion…
Riyan and I were on the same side.
But as we walked out of the West Wing, the broken window behind us whispering secrets to the wind, one truth chilled me to my core:
Whoever left that USB…
didn't run because we saw them.
They ran because they saw something else coming.