The backup team arrived within minutes, their blacked-out SUVs swarming the entrance of the alley with quiet, militaristic precision. Without a word, Devika walked straight to the lead vehicle, pulling open the driver's side door and sliding behind the wheel. Rajveer didn't question her; he bypassed the hood and climbed into the passenger seat beside her, shutting out the muted chaos of the fairground.
"Vishal Hooda aur uska beta, Karan Hooda," Devika began, her voice dropping into a flat, businesslike tone as she navigated the dark roads. "Abhi humare prime targets hain."
Rajveer adjusted his posture, his eyes fixed on her profile. "Kal ka attack bhi unhone hi karvaya tha?"
"Haan. Aur," she replied, keeping her eyes locked on the asphalt. "Mehal par dusra attack bhi karvaya tha jab sab mehmaan jaa rahe the."
A sharp spark of dangerous familiarity flared in Rajveer's chest. The "Deep State" administrative control his family possessed was under direct threat, and he had been completely oblivious. "Hume kyun nhi bataya gya?"
"Aap aaram kar rahe the, aur hum logon ne sab control kiya hua tha," Devika shot back smoothly, though there was a hint of residual annoyance in her jaw. "Vahi hum dekh rahe kal raat laptop par jab aap andar aaye. Jaise hi humare security alarm baje, humne Jai aur uski team ko inform kar diya tha sab dekhne ke liye. Hum sab cctv mein dekh rahe the. Jai ko aaj kal hum training de rahe hain in sab cheezon ki."
She paused, taking a sharp turn that made the tires hum against the gravel. "Lekin Jai to Jai hai. Usne attack to rok liye lekin sabko pakad nhi paaya. Gadha kahinka!
Phir Humare saamne rone laga, kya karen ab!"
Rajveer's lips thinned into a hard, disciplined line. "Isliye kal tum gyi thi."
"Exactly," she nodded, her grip tightening slightly on the steering wheel. "Jai aur humne unlogon ko track kar liya tha aur unke safehouse bhi pahunch gye the. Vahan vo log Karan Hooda se mil rahe the. Hum log chahte to vahin pakad lete sabko. Par humara bhai!!"
She let out a sharp, irritated breath, shaking her head. "Jai ko neend aane lagi. Irritate karne laga hume, ki jaane do, kal ghumne bhi jaana hai, aur humne majbooran use vapas bhej diya."
Rajveer stared at her, the gravity of her words settling in.
---
The black SUV pulled into the secure, heavily guarded courtyard of the central police station. The facade was ordinary, but the real power lay beneath the surface. Devika turned off the ignition and looked at Rajveer, her expression cold and focused. "Kal pakde hue log yahin hain," she informed him, unbuckling her seatbelt. "Police kuch ugalwane ki koshish kar rahi hai."
They walked through the main doors, bypass-ing the front desks and heading straight toward the secure, heavy iron door that led to the underground cells. As they navigated the concrete corridors, every police officer they passed snapped to attention, saluting them with rigid discipline. Devika offered a series of brief, authoritative nods, but her focus remained on Rajveer. She continuously filled him with every minute detail she could recall from her stakeout—names, dates, and safehouse coordinates. Rajveer listened intently, a quiet sense of respect growing within him. He deeply appreciated that she wasn't trying to hide the dark, brutal realities of their administration or trying to coddle him. She was trusting him entirely as an equal partner to the throne.
They turned a final corner, approaching a dimly lit cell where a single prisoner was bound to a heavy wooden chair. The scene inside was grim. The policemen were employing a ruthless, old-school interrogation tactic—placing live insects directly onto the man's bare stomach, covering them with a heavy iron bowl, and heating the top of the bowl with a lit candle. The intense heat forced the trapped insects to claw frantically against the man's skin. The prisoner screamed in raw agony, his muscles spasming, but he remained stubbornly disciplined, crying out the exact same phrase over and over: "Main nirdosh hun! Main nirdosh hun!"
A senior officer stepped out of the cell, wiping sweat from his forehead as he approached the royal couple. He offered a respectful bow. "Kuch nhi phuta, hukum. Kal se koshish kar rahe hai. Khali bole jaa rahe hai sab, main nirdosh hun. Inke kabile waale bahut moti chamri ke hote hain, Hukum."
Devika crossed her arms, her large round eyes narrowing into a contemplative gaze. "Inke kabile waale padhe-likhe nhi hote na?" she asked quietly.
"Nhi, Hukum," the officer replied instantly. " Lekin ye wala padha-likha hai. Kahin akhbaar ki naukri bhi karta tha pehle. Naam jhumru hai."
A clever, dangerous spark lit up Devika's eyes. She signaled for Rajveer to wait by the threshold while she strode directly into the interrogation room.
"Kya ho raha hai yahan?!" she shouted, her voice booming with sudden, sharp indignation. She waved her hand dismissively, signaling the torturers to back off immediately. "Aise koi torture karta hai shareef aadmi ko? Sirf puch-tach karne bola tha!"
The officers instantly fell back, playing along with the sudden shift in tone. Devika walked up to the bound man, who looked up at her with a sudden, desperate surge of hope in his bleeding eyes.
"Theek hai dost?" she asked softly, her voice dripping with maternal concern. She dragged a wooden chair forward, sitting directly in front of him, and handed him a clean glass of water.
"Madam ji..." the man sobbed, leaning forward as best as he could, desperately trying to massage her lower legs in gratitude. Rajveer watched from the doorway, noticing how Devika's eyes rolled back in brief, intense irritation at the physical contact, though she kept her voice perfectly soothing.
"Bahut julm kiye hai aapke ye officer log, madam ji!! Hum nirdosh hain!" he begged, tears tracking through the grime on his face.
"Are, are, maasum! Sharam nhi aati tum log ko?" she scolded the officers again, her face a mask of deep sympathy. Behind her back, the hardened policemen struggled to suppress their grins, keeping their heads lowered in mock guilt.
"Accha dost, humne suna, aap padhe-likhe hain?" she asked, her tone sweet and full of admiration. The man hurriedly nodded his head, eager to please his savior.
"Kuch padh ke dikhao bhai, aisa thode hi chalta hai!" She gestured to a nearby desk, ordering an officer to bring a scrap of a local newspaper.
The man took the paper with trembling hands and hurriedly began reading the print aloud. As he read, he visibly relaxed, his confidence returning as he saw Devika nodding along, smiling with apparent pride.
"Bahut achhe! Ab kuch likh ke bhi dikha do," she encouraged, calling for a leather-bound diary and a pen to be placed in his lap. As the man lowered his head to write down the text he had just read, Devika caught the eye of the senior officer near the door. With a subtle, lightning-fast flick of her fingers, she signaled him to record the interaction on his phone. The officer immediately brought up his camera, capturing a clear, high-definition video of Jhumru writing lines into the diary.
Once the page was full, Devika took the diary, patted Jhumru on the shoulder, and walked back out into the corridor to join Rajveer. They began walking down the row of cells toward the next target.
"Iska aap karengi kya, Ma'am?" one of the trailing officers whispered, genuinely baffled by the soft approach.
Devika halted, snapping her head toward him with a ferocious scowl. "Acchar dalenge, khaoge?!" she barked sarcastically.
The officer immediately shrank back, mumbling an apology. Walking beside her, Rajveer felt a sudden surge of dark amusement, silently thanking God that he hadn't been the one to ask that question, even though he had been thinking the exact same thing.
They arrived at a heavily reinforced cell at the far end of the underground block. Inside, the second prisoner—the hardened leader of the strike team—was casually eating a plate of food, looking entirely unbothered. The moment he looked up and noticed the royal entourage, the atmosphere shattered.
Before anyone could even register her movement, Devika reached into her waistband, pulled her firearm, and fired a deafening shot directly between the man's legs.
Bang.
The bullet tore clean through the fabric of his loose dhoti, embedding itself deep into the stone floor without grazing his skin. The sudden, explosive violence shocked everyone in the corridor—even Rajveer, whose hand had automatically flown to his own weapon in reflex.
"Agli baar kahan thokenge, soch le!!" Devika shouted, her voice laced with lethal promise.
With her free hand, she hurled a heavy velvet pouch into the cell. It hit the concrete floor with a loud, metallic clatter—the distinct, heavy ring of gold coins.
"30 tola sona. Yahi diya tha na Hooda ne?" she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.
The prisoner stared at the bag, then looked up at her, his face turning pale as pure shock washed over his features. "Aap... aapko..."
"Tere us jhumru ne bataya. Aur bhi bahut kuch, dost," she lied effortlessly, her face deadpan and completely convincing.
The man's pale face instantly flushed with absolute fury and denial. "Nhi! Humar Jhumru aisa nhi hai! Vo humka dhoka nhi de sakta! Jyada aap log humko phasao mat!!"
"Accha? To hum jhut bol rahe hain?" Devika smirked, turning to the senior officer and signaling him to hand the phone through the iron bars.
The prisoner lunged forward, grabbing the phone. On the screen, the high-definition video played out cleanly: Jhumru sitting comfortably, smiling, and meticulously writing page after page of information into a diary while the police stood by peacefully. The officer then slid the actual physical diary through the bars, opening it to the freshly written pages.
The man stared at the handwriting in sheer, blind rage. He knew Jhumru was the only literate man in their entire clan; he recognized the script, completely oblivious to the fact that Jhumru had merely been copying a public newspaper article.
"Dekh," Devika pressed, her voice dropping into a chilling, venomous whisper. "Jhumru ne khud sab kuch likha hai tere aur teri toli ke baare mein. Information dene ke liye vo aazaad, aur tu to gya, beta!"
The psychological trap snapped shut. The man began fuming, his breathing ragged as the sting of perceived betrayal consumed him. "Nhi... nhi madam..." he growled, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the iron bars. "Vo saala humlog ko aise fasa nhi sakta!! Humko bhi uske baare mein baaten pata hain. Aap likhiye!"
Standing shoulder to shoulder in the dim corridor, both Rajveer and Devika smirked in perfect unison. Devika gave a sharp nod to the officers, signaling them to bring in the recording equipment and take down the full, official confession.
"Iske baad," Devika whispered to the officer as they turned to leave, "Same plan to Jhumru. Samjhe?"
Rajveer looked down at his wife, the brilliant, terrifying blueprint of her intellect fully laid bare before him.
---
By the time the doors of their room clicked shut behind them, it was well past midnight. A brief, quiet update from the night-shift security team confirmed that the entire sibling contingent and their friends had been escorted back to their respective estates safely after the fair.
The heavy, strategic mask Devika had worn in the underground cells vanished the second the lock turned. Keeping her gun to a nearby drawer, she kicked off her tactical boots, let out a dramatic yawn, and practically threw herself face-first onto the mattress. She let out a muffled, bubbly giggle into the fabric, instantly reverting right back to the chaotic, energetic girl Rajveer was rapidly growing accustomed to.
Rajveer shook his head, a quiet chuckle escaping him. He picked up her scattered boots along with his own shoes, carrying them into the dressing room before heading into the bathroom to wash off the dust of the local market and the tension of the interrogation.
When he returned to the bedroom, he stopped, his gaze softening. Devika was already fast asleep, knocked out in the exact position she had landed. Her arms were spread wide like a capital T, her legs were half-hanging off the edge of the mattress, and her face was pressed directly against the center of the bed.
He stood there for a long moment, simply adoring the sheer innocence of her sleeping figure. Then, He carefully lifted her legs, placing them fully onto the mattress, gently folded her extended arms across her chest, adjusted a plush pillow beneath her head, and pulled the heavy silk blanket over her shoulders. satisfied, he slid onto his side of the bed, turning to face her.
Watching the steady, rhythmic rise and fall of her shoulders, he didn't even realize when his own exhaustion caught up to him and he drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep.
The next morning, the soft, ambient sound of running water from the attached bathroom pulled Rajveer from his sleep. He blinked against the morning sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains, realizing Devika was already up and bathing. Content to enjoy a rare, unscheduled morning, he reached for the edge of the blanket, pulling it higher as he prepared to drift back into sleep.
Then, the bathroom door swung open.
Rajveer's breath caught in his throat. Devika stepped out into the room, looking breathtakingly radiant in a vibrant green lehenga-choli—the color designated for the afternoon's upcoming *mehendi* festivities. Her hands were raised, wrapping a plush white towel around the heavy, damp weight of her long hair. Because she hadn't put on her heavy dupatta yet, the tailored cut of the blouse left her neck, the elegant curve of her waist, and her back entirely exposed to the morning air.
He tried. He genuinely, desperately tried to close his eyes and pretend he was still asleep, but his gaze completely locked up, refusing to obey his brain. He found himself utterly mesmerized, tracking every single movement from head to toe as she walked over to the vanity mirrors. He watched her skin catch the morning light as she applied a light moisturizer, her fingers steady as she carefully filled her parting with deep crimson sindoor before clasping her mangalsutra around her neck.
It took him a moment of intense staring to realize that she was fully aware of his gaze.
Despite the cool, collected, serious expression she tried to maintain in the mirror, the tips of her ears had turned a brilliant crimson red. It was her absolute giveaway—the one physical tell she could never control when she was flustered.
Panicking at being caught red-handed, Rajveer instantly snapped his eyes shut, quickly hauling the edge of the blanket all the way up over his face to hide.
A soft, melodic voice cut through the quiet room, laced with a heavy dose of teasing despite her own racing heart.
"Aapki apni personal biwi hain, janab!"
Rajveer didn't dare lower the blanket, keeping his face firmly hidden beneath the silk fabric, though a massive, unstoppable smirk broke across his lips at her bold, shy retort. He listened closely, hearing the faint rustle of her skirts followed a few moments later by the distinct click of the main door closing.
Carefully, he lowered the blanket, his eyes scanning an entirely empty room. A sudden, unexpected wave of disappointment settled in his chest at her absence, but his eyes quickly caught a matching, heavily embroidered green kurta laid out neatly over the dressing chair, placed there explicitly for him.
---
Ten minutes later, Rajveer stepped out of the shower, his mind entirely absentmindedly fixed on the strategy for the Hooda operation. He was wearing nothing but a white towel slung low around his waist, water droplets still glistening on his chest and shoulders as he ran a hand through his damp hair.
He didn't expect the door to open.
Devika walked in, carrying a silver tray with a steaming cup of fresh coffee. She was completely in her own world, muttering something under her breath about the caterers, when her eyes drifted up and locked onto his bare, athletic frame.
She didn't stopped but at once dropped her gaze to the cup.
She practically slammed the coffee cup down onto the nearest bedside table, her face burning a deep, furious shade of red that matched her sindoor.
While going back, she smacked the empty silver tray on her own forehead with a soft clang.
"Gadhi!" she muttered, as she bolted out into the corridor, slamming the door shut behind her.
Rajveer stood frozen by the bathroom door, staring at the closed wood before looking down at his towel. A deep, booming laugh rumbled through his chest as realisation hit him, louder and lighter than any sound he had made in seven long years.
---
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