Adultery Love Sex And War : Age Of Darkness

[DeanWinchester00007]

Believe me , its not my intention. Its that I don't get enough time lately to work comfortably on the story. Which is why the delays. But you can definitely be confident that I won't mess with the QUALITY of the story. That is a given dedication!

But are we getting an Update or not ? if not Then When ?     

[Harry Jordan]

But are we getting an Update or not ? if not Then When ?     

Its coming very soon , I am currently correcting some of the spelling and grammatic errors. That tail end of the chapter had some spell errors. I usually use AI to correct those but that too has been behaving very erratically. However its almost done , it will be coming in few hours. I will be posting a simple message when I start uploading it.

[Harry Jordan]

You know that saying in Hindi.

"SABRUH KA PHAL MEETHA HOTA HAIN"

Chapter 33 coming online in Half Hour!

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                          CHAPTER 33

The revelation about Hemant stayed with Sonarika the entire day like a quiet storm she couldn’t escape. It wasn’t his past that shook her. It was the fact that he had hidden it from her. A man she had loved so deeply… a man she had once believed she knew completely… had lived an entire life she was never allowed to see. That thought lingered. By evening, the family decided to step out to a nearby city garden. The air was lighter there—children playing, couples walking, the soft hum of a peaceful evening. For a while, Sonarika allowed herself to breathe. Karan ran ahead laughing, dragging Anjali along toward a small play area. Anjali followed, half-laughing, half-complaining as usual. Sonarika smiled watching them. For a brief moment, life felt simple again. Until a familiar voice broke that illusion.


"Hey"

She turned. And froze. Vikram stood there. Her heartbeat spiked instantly. What is he doing here? Her parents were right there. They didn’t know. They couldn’t know. Before she could react, Karan ran toward him.

"Dance Uncle!"

Vikram laughed warmly and bent slightly.

"Hey little handsome!" He ruffled Karan’s hair.

"You’ve gotten taller" Karan grinned.

Sonarika quickly stepped in, trying to steady the situation.

"Papa… this is Vikram"

Jagjeet Sharma looked at him carefully—and recognition flashed almost instantly.

"Vikram Bajaj?"

Sonarika’s breath caught. Jagjeet continued.

"CEO of BajajCorp?" Vikram nodded politely.

"I’m surprised you recognize me, sir" Jagjeet gave a small smile.

"I’ve had a dealership interaction through one of your associates here in Delhi"

Vikram played along smoothly.

"I’m glad we finally have a proper introduction then"

The conversation stayed formal, safe. But Sonarika could feel the tension beneath her skin. After a few minutes, she managed to step aside with him.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice dropped instantly.

"I needed to talk to you" Vikram said calmly.

"Not here..Are you crazy?" she snapped softly. 

He raised his hands slightly.

"Okay. Then meet me at the same restaurant as last time"

She hesitated. This was dangerous. But refusing would only create more questions.

"Fine, now leave" she said quietly. 

Vikram nodded. He turned back to the group, made a polite excuse, and walked away. By night, the city lights reflected softly across the restaurant windows. Vikram was already there when Sonarika arrived. This time, she wasn’t dressed in traditional wear. A simple t-shirt and jeans. Effortless. Real. Vikram noticed immediately.

"You look different" he said.

"It just means I’m reconnecting with myself" She sat down across him.

"I like it" He smiled faintly.

She didn’t respond to that.

"Why did you call me here?"

Vikram leaned back slightly.

"My parents… what they said earlier about you visiting our ancestral mansion—don’t take it seriously"

Sonarika frowned.

"Do they know anything about me?"

He shook his head.

"They don’t know about your marriage"

A pause.

"They don’t know about Karan either"

That hit harder than expected.

"You hid that?" she asked.

"I did" Vikram didn’t deny it.

"Why?"

He looked at her honestly.

"Because at one point… I wanted you in my life. And I knew the truth would complicate that"

Sonarika stared at him.

"And now?"

Vikram’s voice softened.

"Now… you’ve changed"

He paused.

"And I don’t want to repeat the same mistake"

She didn’t fully understand.

"I want to know you, not chase you. Not manipulate situations" he clarified. 

"That realization came from watching you rebuild yourself"

Sonarika leaned back slightly, absorbing that.

"At least you admit there were flaws" she said.

He smiled faintly.

"Because there were"

She studied him.

"You still have feelings for me"

"I do" Vikram didn’t look away.

Silence.

"But I won’t act on them, Not like before" he added. 

Her thoughts drifted again. Hemant. His lies. His hidden life. And now Vikram… choosing restraint. Before she could say anything, Vikram spoke again.

"You don’t look okay"

"I’m fine" She stiffened slightly.

"No, You’re not " he said gently. 

"Something’s bothering you" He leaned forward.

For a moment, she almost told him the truth. About Hemant. About the Garud Forces. About the lies. But Suresh’s warning echoed in her mind.

'This cannot leave the room'

So she made a decision. If Hemant could live behind a cover…So could she.

"He lied to me" she said quietly.

Vikram frowned.

"About what?"

She took a breath.

"He was never in the army"

The lie left her lips, and it felt heavier than she expected.

"He has a… questionable past"

Vikram went silent. Sonarika watched him carefully. She expected it now. Expected him to seize this. To twist it. To turn Hemant into the villain. To pull her closer. But he didn’t. Instead, he spoke slowly.

"Then he probably had a reason"

Sonarika blinked.

"What?"

Vikram shrugged lightly.

"I’ve been studying his company growth" He continued thoughtfully.

"YOD Industries didn’t rise overnight by accident"

"That kind of scale… that kind of execution… it comes from experience"

He looked at her.

"If he hid something, it wasn’t random"

Sonarika stared at him, surprised.

"You’re not going to say anything against him?"

Vikram shook his head.

"I understand him"

That answer unsettled her in a completely different way.

"Whatever his past is, he had his reasons to keep it hidden" Vikram added.

Sonarika looked down, processing that. Maybe…Maybe the truth wasn’t as simple as betrayal. Maybe it never was. She stood up slowly.

"Not everything stays hidden forever"

"True"  Vikram nodded.

They exchanged a quiet goodbye. And as Sonarika walked away into the night, her thoughts felt heavier—but clearer. For the first time, she wasn’t just questioning Hemant’s lies. She was questioning why they existed.

And somewhere deep inside—She wasn’t ready to believe the worst about him. Not yet.


The next morning, the garden no longer felt like a place of peace for Sonarika. She still worked the soil, still adjusted the saplings, still watered each plant with care—but her mind wasn’t present anymore. Every thought circled back to one thing.

Hemant.

Not his strength. Not his love. But his silence. Her phone buzzed, breaking the loop. A message from Sreelekha Naik’s office. Her boss would be arriving in Delhi for the weekend—along with a colleague—to attend the Arijit Singh Concert. For a moment, Sonarika smiled. This should have excited her. A new job. New people. A new beginning. But the feeling faded quickly. Because one question refused to leave her—Was there really a part of life that a husband should hide from his wife… forever? Later that morning, she and Ragini headed to a nearby shopping center. Bright lights. Loud music. Rows of clothes. A normal day. Or at least, it looked like one. They walked through racks of dresses, occasionally holding one up, commenting, rejecting—but the conversation inevitably drifted. Back to him.

"I admire him more now" Ragini said, casually flipping through a rack.

Sonarika stopped.

"Admire?" she asked.

Ragini nodded.

"After everything we heard yesterday… he’s not just a good man. He’s… extraordinary"

Sonarika’s expression hardened slightly.

"I’m not impressed"

Ragini looked at her.

"I’m upset that he hid an entire life from me" Sonarika clarified. 

“He had reasons,” Ragini replied gently.

Sonarika let out a quiet, almost bitter breath.

"That’s exactly what Vikram said"

Ragini froze. Slowly, she turned toward her.

"You met him… last night?"

Sonarika didn’t avoid it.

"Yes"

Ragini studied her carefully.

"Are you… having second thoughts about him?"

The question was direct. Sonarika shook her head immediately.

"No"

Her voice was firm.

"There’s no second opinion here"

She paused, her eyes dropping slightly.

"What happened with Vikram… should never have happened"

There was no defensiveness in her tone now. Only honesty.

"I gave in too easily, without even fighting it" she continued.

Ragini stayed silent.

"That wasn’t me" Sonarika added softly.

Her voice grew heavier.

"I can’t fully blame him either. I didn’t just ruin my marriage… I ruined his life too"

She exhaled slowly.

"That guilt… it doesn’t leave"

Ragini’s expression softened.

"You’re healing" she said.

Sonarika shook her head faintly.

"Healing doesn’t erase consequences"

She looked ahead, almost distant.

"Even if I move forward… I’ll still be someone who broke two people who loved her"

That truth sat heavily between them. After a moment, Ragini asked quietly—

"Are you thinking of a future without Hemant?"

Sonarika didn’t answer immediately. When she did, her voice was softer than before.

"It wasn’t what I wanted"

A pause.

"But things have changed"

She swallowed slightly.

"I don’t see that same family anymore"

Ragini didn’t interrupt.

“I’m scared,” Sonarika admitted.

"Of being alone… for the rest of my life"

That was the real fear. Not guilt. Not judgment. Loneliness.

"But maybe I deserve that" she added quietly.

Ragini frowned.

"Don’t say that"

But Sonarika continued.

"My desires have changed"

She picked up a dress absentmindedly, then put it back.

"I don’t want a ‘perfect man’ anymore"

A faint, almost ironic smile appeared.

"That idea… it ruined everything"

By evening, Sonarika found herself standing outside Reshma’s house again. This time, not as a visitor. But as someone seeking answers. Reshma welcomed her with warmth, as always.

"Sonarika, come in" she smiled. 

But Sonarika didn’t waste time.

"I need your help"

Reshma sensed the seriousness immediately.

"And Suresh’s" Sonarika added.

Reshma’s expression shifted slightly.

"What kind of help?"

Sonarika hesitated—but only for a moment.

"I want to know everything about Hemant"

Her voice was steady now.

"His complete history"

"And I need it… discreetly"

She swallowed.

"I’ll pay for it"

That was the moment Reshma’s expression changed. Not anger. But something close to hurt. Sonarika realized it instantly.

"I’m sorry" she said quickly.

"I didn’t mean it like that"

And then—She broke. The truth she had been carrying finally came out. Reshma went still. The silence deepened.

"I cheated on him. With Vikram. Our marriage is falling apart" Sonarika continued.

Her voice trembled now, but she didn’t stop.

"I blamed myself for everything… and I still do"

She took a breath.

"But now I find out… he hid his life from me too"

Tears welled in her eyes.

"I don’t even know what my reality was anymore"

Reshma moved closer and gently held her hands.

"Listen to me" she said softly.

"The moment a person accepts their mistakes… truly accepts them…that’s the first step toward becoming human again, you’re already on that path"

She smiled gently. Sonarika looked at her. Her voice was calm, reassuring.

"You deserve redemption. And you deserve the truth you’re searching for"

Sonarika’s eyes filled, but this time there was a hint of relief. Reshma continued.

"There’s someone you should meet"

She mentioned a name. Dhananjay Shankar.

"He’s a former soldier who was once part of Hemant's squad" she explained.

"He now works as a guest lecturer at a military institute in Karol Bagh"

Sonarika listened carefully.

"If you want to understand Hemant" Reshma said.

"You should hear his story from someone who saw that life firsthand"

Sonarika nodded slowly.

"Thank you"

As she turned to leave, Reshma added one last thing.

"Whatever happened between us in the past…"

A small, knowing smile.

"I still believe you deserve peace"

Sonarika paused for a second, then nodded. And as she stepped out into the evening, her mind felt clearer than it had in days. Not lighter.But clearer. For the first time, she wasn’t just reacting to revelations. She was choosing her next step. Tomorrow—She would go to Karol Bagh. And meet the man who might finally help her understand—Who Hemant really was.

The cab crawled through the restless arteries of Delhi, past the crowded lanes of Karol Bagh where honking horns and impatient drivers formed a language of their own. Sonarika sat still in the backseat, her fingers intertwined, her eyes unfocused as the city blurred past her window. The further they moved from the chaos, the quieter everything seemed to become, as though the world itself was preparing her for something she wasn’t ready to face. When the cab finally turned toward the National Defence College, a strange stillness settled inside her chest.

Stepping out, she was immediately struck by the sharp contrast. Order replaced chaos. Precision replaced noise. Men and women in uniform moved with purpose, their presence almost intimidating in its perfection. Sonarika adjusted her dupatta unconsciously, feeling like an outsider in a world built on discipline and secrets. Reshma’s voice echoed in her mind—“You need to meet him. He’s the only one who’ll tell you the truth.”

Dhananjay Shankar.

The name alone had been enough to disturb her sleep the night before. It had unraveled everything she thought she knew about Hemant. The man she had lived with—the quiet, patient, almost fragile man who avoided confrontation—had once been something entirely different. A Garud Force commando. Not just that, but a commander of covert operations. The story he had told her—the trembling confession about fear, about watching a fellow soldier die—now felt like a carefully crafted lie. And she had believed it without question.

Inside, she was guided into a modest staff room. The representative informed her politely that “Shankar sir” was taking a class and would arrive shortly. Ten minutes, he said. Sonarika nodded and sat down, her eyes wandering across the walls lined with framed photographs and commendations. Each image told a story of bravery, sacrifice, and a life lived on the edge of danger.

Her gaze stopped.

It was a simple photograph, almost easy to miss among the rest. A group of soldiers stood together, their expressions firm, their postures unyielding. And there—slightly to the right, not even at the center—stood Hemant. But it wasn’t the Hemant she knew. This version of him looked sharper, harder, his eyes carrying a weight she had never seen. Yet strangely, he also resembled the man he had become recently—the man who had rebuilt himself while running YOD Industries. The resemblance was uncanny, unsettling.

Her thoughts spiraled until a sudden, sharp sound broke her trance—a faint screech of wheels against the polished floor.

She turned.

A man approached her in a wheelchair, moving with controlled effort. His upper body was strong, almost imposing, but one leg was missing. Despite it, there was nothing diminished about his presence. His eyes were sharp, observant. He stopped in front of her and studied her face for a moment before speaking.

"You must be Sonarika Kumar"

His voice was calm, certain.

"And you are Mr. Dhananjay?" She blinked, slightly caught off guard, then nodded. 

"Just call me Dan" He smiled faintly. 

There was something disarming about his tone, though it didn’t quite put her at ease.

"Hemant might’ve told you about me" she said cautiously.

Dan shook his head. 

"I was invited to your wedding. Couldn’t make it. Medical commitments" 

He tapped lightly on the arm of his wheelchair, as if that explained everything. Then his expression shifted. 

"How is Hemant?"

"He’s… probably doing better for himself. He’s running his company now" Sonarika hesitated. 

"Probably?" Dan’s eyes narrowed slightly. 

The word hung between them, heavier than she had intended. Sonarika exhaled. 

"We’ve filed for a divorce"

For a brief moment, something like disappointment flickered across Dan’s face. Then, unexpectedly, he smirked. 

"Hemant’s luck with love has always been in the sewers"

The remark stung more than she expected. 

"What do you mean by that?"

Dan leaned back slightly, his gaze steady. 

"You’re not the first woman things he has failed with"

Sonarika straightened instantly. 

"He didn’t fail....I did" Her voice was firm now. 

"The divorce is because of me. I… committed adultery"

The words felt heavy, even now. Dan’s expression changed completely. The smirk vanished, replaced by something more somber. He let out a slow breath, as though absorbing the weight of her confession.

"I’m not here to explain myself" she continued quickly. 

"I came because I need to know who Hemant really is. Or was"

Dan studied her for a long moment, as if measuring her resolve. 

"That’s not a story I can tell in ten minutes. Not here"

"I can come again" she said immediately.

"Not here"

He shook his head. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small piece of paper and scribbled something on it before handing it to her. 

"This is a military quarters in New Delhi. Come there on Monday"

"I’ll be there" Sonarika took the paper, her fingers brushing against his. 

"Thank you" She stood up, gathering herself, ready to leave. 

As she turned, Dan’s voice stopped her.

"Did Hemant ever mention you about me"

"No. Never"

She frowned slightly. For the first time, Dan looked genuinely surprised. A faint, almost nostalgic smile touched his lips.

"Clear your schedule on Monday" he said quietly. 

"It’s going to take a whole day to tell you who Hemant Kumar really is"

And as Sonarika walked out of that room, the paper clutched tightly in her hand, she realized something unsettling—she wasn’t just about to learn the truth about her husband. She was about to meet a stranger she had once called her own.

                                                                                                                           (TO BE CONTD)

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                      (CHAPTER CONTD)                      

The next day unfolded slower, quieter, as though Delhi itself had decided to give Sonarika a moment to breathe. At her maternal home in Janakpuri, she sat in the garden surrounded by bougainvillea and fading winter sunlight. The familiar space, once a refuge of childhood comfort, now felt distant—like something she could see but no longer fully belong to. Her thoughts drifted endlessly, circling back to the same questions. Hemant. Dan. The photograph. The truth waiting for her on Monday. She tried to ground herself in the present, but her mind refused to stay still.


Her phone rang, pulling her out of the haze.

It was a short call. Direct. Professional.

Mrs. Sreelekha Naik had arrived.

Sonarika changed quickly, forcing herself into composure, and left for the hotel. The drive felt shorter this time, though her thoughts were heavier. When she arrived, she paused briefly at the entrance, taking a breath before stepping inside, as if preparing to step into yet another version of her life.

Sreelekha greeted her with warmth that felt almost maternal. 

"There you are" she said, her voice carrying both authority and affection. 

"I was wondering when you’d come"

"I came as soon as I got your call, ma’am" Sonarika smiled faintly.

Sreelekha waved off the formality. Her eyes studied Sonarika for a moment. 

"So… are you looking forward to your new life at VATIKA?"

There was a pause.

"I am, though… I think I’m more anxious than excited" 

Sonarika replied, choosing her words carefully. 

"That’s good, anxiety means you understand the weight of what you’re stepping into" 

Sreelekha said with a small nod. 

"Let me introduce you to someone important"

She then gestured toward someone standing slightly behind her. 

Sonarika turned.

The woman before her stood tall, with sharp features that immediately marked her as someone of European descent. Her expression, however, was distant—almost withdrawn. There was a heaviness in her eyes, like she was carrying something invisible but immense.

"This is Katherine, she’ll be working with us on our new hybrid medicinal plant research project" 

Sreelekha said. 

"Nice to meet you" Katherine gave a brief nod. 

Her voice was polite, but there was no warmth in it.

"Nice to meet you too" Sonarika smiled gently. 

There was an awkward pause before Sreelekha stepped in again, her tone softening. 

"Katherine’s been through a lot" she said quietly. 

"I’ll tell you more another time. For now, I just want her to have a good time. A change of pace"

"I’m sure she’ll enjoy the music concert" Sonarika nodded with understanding. 

"You didn’t think I liked music, did you?" Sreelekha chuckled lightly. 

"I… didn’t know, honestly" Sonarika hesitated. 

"Well, I can’t afford to mellow out in front of everyone. Running a massive industry doesn’t leave much room for that" 

Sreelekha said with a hint of amusement, before Sonarika could respond, the sharp chime of the hotel doorbell cut through the room.

"That must be them" Sreelekha turned. 

The door opened. And the moment froze. Vikram walked in. Behind him was his sister, Anjana. For a split second, Sonarika forgot how to breathe.

"What are you doing here?" 

She asked, the shock evident in her voice before she could control it. Vikram met her gaze, his expression calm but unreadable. 

"Sreelekha Mam and my mother, Neelam, are old friends" he explained. 

"We’re here to set up a meeting between them"

Sonarika’s eyes flickered briefly toward Sreelekha, who simply nodded as confirmation.

Anjana stepped forward slightly. She looked different—frailer somehow. The grief of losing her husband, Ritesh, still lingered in her posture, in the way her shoulders carried an invisible weight.

"Sonarika, I need to speak with you. In private" Anjana said softly, 

"About what?" The request caught her off guard. 

"I’ll explain when we meet, when are you free?" Anjana replied. 

Sonarika hesitated, glancing briefly at Vikram before answering. 

"I’m free this evening"

Anjana nodded and handed her a small note. 

"Come here. It’s a private restaurant. It’ll just be us. No Vikram"

There was something reassuring in that last sentence. Something that eased the tension coiling in Sonarika’s chest.

"Alright" she said quietly.

As Anjana stepped back, the room seemed to regain its motion, but Sonarika felt strangely detached from it all. Conversations resumed, voices blended, but none of it truly reached her. Because her mind had already begun to spiral again. Hemant’s hidden past. Dan’s unfinished story. Vikram’s presence. Anjana’s request.

And somewhere beyond all of that—a future she could no longer clearly see. As she stepped away from the group, her fingers tightening slightly around the note Anjana had given her, Sonarika realized something unsettling. Her life was no longer a straight path. It was a maze. And with every step she took, she was only going deeper into it.

That evening, the city seemed softer, wrapped in a quiet hum as Sonarika stepped into the restaurant Anjana had mentioned. It was discreet, almost hidden from the outside world, with dim lighting and private booths that felt designed for conversations people didn’t want overheard. A hostess guided her silently, and as the curtain to the booth parted, she saw Anjana already seated, waiting.

"You came" Anjana looked up and greeted her with a warm, almost familiar smile.

"Of course" 

Sonarika replied, sliding into the seat across from her. For a moment, neither spoke, as if both were measuring the weight of what needed to be said.

"How are you doing?" Sonarika finally asked, her voice gentle.

Anjana exhaled softly, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass.  A faint smile appeared, touched with sadness. 

"I’m… getting along..Ritesh always liked me strong. So I suppose I have to stay that way"

There was something quietly resolute in her tone that made Sonarika nod. 

"He would be proud of you, even though I never met him" she said sincerely. 

Anjana’s smile deepened slightly, her gaze sharpening just a little. 

"He would’ve liked you too...Especially considering Vikram"

The words landed awkwardly. Sonarika shifted in her seat, discomfort creeping in. She didn’t respond, and the silence that followed made the tension obvious. Anjana noticed immediately.

"I’m sorry, That came out wrong" she said, her tone softening.

"No… it’s just—complicated" Sonarika shook her head lightly. 

"I know" Anjana said quietly. 

"And I understand your dilemma more than you think" 

She leaned forward slightly, her voice calm but firm. 

"But sooner or later, you’ll have to accept something, Sonarika"

Sonarika looked up.

"Hemant is not coming back"

The words were not harsh, but they were final. A flicker of pain crossed Sonarika’s face. 

"I know that, I just… I’m still trying to process it" 

She said, though her voice betrayed how difficult it was to say it aloud.

"I’m not here to justify what you did" Anjana continued gently. 

"But you can’t keep holding on to something that’s already gone. The family you were fighting for—it doesn’t exist anymore"

Sonarika lowered her gaze, her hands tightening slightly in her lap. Anjana let the silence sit before speaking again. 

"Hemant will be fine, he’s a different man now. He’ll move on. He’ll rebuild. Maybe even find someone new, someone who gives him what he needs"

There was no malice in her words—only a kind of practical certainty.

"But you…you’ll go back to Goa alone. And you’ll be left to figure out your life from whatever pieces remain" 

Anjana continued, her voice softening further,  Sonarika looked up again, something fragile in her expression.

"You don’t have to do that alone" Anjana added.

The implication was clear even before she said his name.

"Vikram plans to move to Goa" she explained. 

"He’s not interested in the Bajaj family’s main business. He wants something quieter. That old hotel—it means something to him. He wants to build his life there"

Sonarika’s breath caught slightly.

"You could be a part of that" Anjana said. 

"You could build something new… from what’s left"

The words lingered heavily between them.

"Doesn’t that make me the villain in his life?" 

Sonarika asked suddenly, her voice steady but laced with conflict. Anjana held her gaze. 

"Maybe. Right now, yes" She didn’t sugarcoat it. 

"But time changes things. Pain fades. People move on. When someone else enters his life, he won’t need to hold on to what he had with you anymore"

Sonarika didn’t respond immediately. Her thoughts felt tangled, pulling her in opposite directions.

"I can’t decide something like this right now" she admitted.

"I’m not asking you to" Anjana said softly. 

"I’m just asking you to see that your life isn’t over"

She paused, choosing her next words carefully.

"Maybe what happened between you and Vikram wasn’t just a mistake" she continued. 

"Maybe it meant something deeper. The universe doesn’t bring people together without a reason"

Sonarika frowned slightly, unsure whether to believe that or reject it entirely.

"He cares about you" Anjana said simply. 

"You matter to him. The only question is… do you want him to matter to you too?"

The simplicity of it made it harder, not easier. Anjana leaned back, her expression softening with something more personal now. 

"I didn’t get a lifetime with Ritesh" she said quietly. 

"Just a few years. But I lived those years fully. And now… those memories are what keep me standing"

Her eyes shimmered, but her voice didn’t break.

"Don’t waste what time gives you, Sonarika"

The conversation ended not with resolution, but with a quiet understanding that something had shifted. When they stepped out into the night, the air felt heavier, charged with everything left unsaid. They exchanged a brief goodnight, and then went their separate ways. But Sonarika didn’t feel like she was walking away. She felt like she was being pulled in multiple directions at once.

Hemant—his hidden past waiting to be revealed. Vikram—the possibility of a future built on something uncertain. And herself—caught somewhere in between, trying to understand what she truly wanted. As she walked under the dim streetlights, her thoughts spiraling into something deeper, more consuming, she realized the truth she had been avoiding. This was no longer about right or wrong. It was about choice. And whatever she chose next… would define the rest of her life.

The next day carried a different kind of energy—lighter on the surface, yet quietly heavy underneath. It was the penultimate night before the concert, and Ragini, with her usual enthusiasm, refused to let Sonarika stay wrapped in her thoughts. 

"We are going shopping" she had declared, almost dragging her out of the house. 

"And you are wearing something dazzling, no arguments"

The shopping center buzzed with life, filled with bright lights, chatter, and racks of shimmering fabric that seemed to promise escape, if only for a few hours. Ragini moved from one section to another with excitement, picking dresses, holding them against Sonarika, rejecting some instantly and admiring others with exaggerated expressions. Sonarika followed, smiling faintly, letting herself be carried by the moment even as her mind wandered elsewhere.

She found herself standing before a rack of dresses in muted silence, her fingers brushing lightly against different fabrics. That was when she paused at a blue dress. It was elegant, simple, yet striking in its own way. As she held it up, something stirred within her—a memory, soft but vivid.

Mumbai.

A few years ago.

She could almost see it clearly. Hemant standing beside her in a store, holding up a similar blue dress with a hopeful look in his eyes. 

"This would look nice on you" he had said, his voice quiet but certain.

She had barely looked at it.

"It’s not really my style" she had replied casually, already turning away. 

It hadn’t been harsh—just indifferent. But she remembered the way his expression had shifted ever so slightly, the flicker of disappointment he had tried to hide. And then, as always, he had adjusted. 

"Okay… what do you like?" he had asked, genuinely wanting to see her happy.

She had shown him a rose-colored dress instead, brighter, more expressive. And Hemant had smiled instantly. 

"You’ll look beautiful in that" he had said, without hesitation.

She had laughed, light and carefree, choosing that dress in the end.

Back in the present, Sonarika lowered the blue dress slightly, her fingers tightening around the fabric. The memory lingered longer than she expected.

She moved on, trying to shake it off, but her steps led her to another rack. This time, her hand stopped at a red dress. It was bold, striking, with a certain daring edge to it—something that demanded attention. And just like that, another memory surfaced. This one was louder. Brighter. Messier.

She was in a high-end store, Vikram beside her, his presence magnetic in a way that had once felt irresistible. He had picked up a red dress—something very much like the one in her hands now—and held it against her with a playful grin.

"This, would make you impossible to ignore" he had said, his voice low with mischief, 

"You’re very confident" She had laughed, matching his energy. 

"I have my reasons" he had replied, his eyes never leaving hers.

"And besides it will be too easy to remove!"

Sonarika giggled at his comment. But Vikram stayed true to his words because that night at Galaxy Apartments she did wore it. And Vikram did take it off. Another night that laid a secret on the foundation of the perfect cover provided by Meghna of another slumber night. But that night was no slumber , it was an inferno of desire. They are fucking-- fucking each other with the same lust and energy they had during their first encounter at Jabalpur. With each thrust, Sonarika is crying out; Vikram was grunting, as he was driving his cock so deeply inside the milfy woman's body. Sonarika raises her knees towards her chest, and wraps her legs around his waist, locking her ankles. Then she starts humping her ass up, meeting his every thrust with one of her own. They both grunt each time their pelvises collide.

The thrustings became heavy and they both were reaching their breaking point they so much craved. Vikram then rose up on his stiffened arms, and drives his cock so hard and so deep into Sonarika. She gripped his back, digging her fingernails in, and using her arms and her legs, she pulled him even deeper, then held him there. He roars, then grunts, again and again, sending his thick cum to Sonarika's waiting love tunnel.

When he finally finishes ejaculating, he makes two more quick thrusts before slowly collapsing onto her, his head beside hers. And then they kissed. But the night never ended that way , this wasn't like the sex Sonarika had with Hemant , there was no tender pleasure quest with everything calm , slow and intimate. With Vikram , the expectations were always more , as if there was a need to outdo their last. And the night would always be filled with passion and pleasure. 

In the middle of the night they woke up and did it again. They are doing it moaning, grunting, and the sound of skin slapping skin. A small lamp always stays on in the bedroom, has just enough light for them to see each other. The blankets have been thrown off of the mattress. Sonarika's head and chest are on the bed, her ass up in the air, and Vikram is gripping her milfy hips, fucking her. The moaning and grunting grow louder. Every time Vikram thrusts his cock into her body, she squeezes his hand. Her squeezing of his hand is becoming firmer, more intense with each thrust of his cock into her. Then Sonarika squeezes hard, to almost hurting, and she screams out in extreme pleasure as her intense climax takes over her mind and body, her nerves shooting wonderful little needles down her legs and into her feet.

Her orgasm pushes her lover over the edge. He drives his cock deeper and roars out with his own orgasm, the muscles in his ass contracting, Vikram grunts as each ejaculation flows through his cock and into Sonarika's body. His whole body goes limp before they collapse together, their bodies uncouple as they fall back down to the bed.

They did it again in the morning , and this time too no tenderness involved. That was their relationship then. One that blurred lines, that made everything feel thrilling and justified in the moment. Back then, the memory had felt intoxicating. Now, it felt different. Heavy. Sharp. Like something beautiful that had turned into a sharp needle.

Sonarika stood still, the red dress in one hand, the blue in the other. For a moment, the noise of the store faded away, leaving only the weight of those two memories pressing against her. Two versions of herself. Two choices she had made. Two men who had shaped her life in completely different ways. Anjana’s words echoed faintly in her mind, urging her toward a future she wasn’t sure she wanted. Her thoughts wavered, just for a moment, daring her to lean toward the red—to accept what was being offered, to build something new from the ruins. But something within her resisted. Quietly. Stubbornly. With a slow breath, she placed the red dress back. And held on to the blue. It wasn’t a grand decision. It didn’t solve anything. But it felt… honest. When she stepped out of the trial room wearing it, Ragini’s reaction was immediate.

"Oh my God" she said, eyes widening. 

"Sonarika… you look stunning"

There was no exaggeration in her voice—just pure admiration. Sonarika glanced at herself in the mirror. For a moment, she simply looked. Really looked. The dress fit her beautifully, but it wasn’t just that. There was something softer in her expression, something more grounded. She smiled. A small, quiet smile.

"I think I like this one" she said.

But deep down, she knew it was more than that. Somewhere in her heart, she could almost hear Hemant’s voice again—gentle, certain—telling her she looked good in it. And for the first time, she didn’t dismiss that feeling.

She held on to it.

Because despite everything—despite the betrayal, the distance, the inevitable end—he was still there, like an unshaken lamp within her. A wound, yes. But also something more. Once, he had been her anchor. Her lightning rod in a world that often felt uncertain. And even now, as everything seemed to be pulling them apart, she realized something she could no longer deny. She might lose him. She might never have him again. But she would never truly erase him from her heart.

The evening settled gently over Janakpuri, casting a warm glow through the windows of Sonarika’s maternal home. Inside her room, the air was alive with movement—makeup brushes, scattered jewelry, the soft rustle of fabric. Ragini stood by the mirror, adjusting her earrings, while Sonarika carefully pinned her hair into place, the blue dress falling elegantly around her. Ragini glanced at her reflection through the mirror and tilted her head.   

"You know, that red dress would’ve suited you better. It had… more impact"

She said thoughtfully, Sonarika met her eyes in the mirror and gave a faint smile. 

"Maybe it would have" she admitted. Then, after a brief pause, she added. 

"But I wanted to wear this tonight"

"Why?" Ragini turned toward her, curious. 

Sonarika looked down at the fabric for a moment, her fingers brushing against it gently. 

"Blue was Hemant’s favorite color, and tonight… I want the world to see that despite an uncertain future , I will choose him , always him!" 

She said quietly. 

The words carried a quiet conviction that made Ragini’s expression soften. There was no drama in it, no desperation—just something honest and deeply rooted. Ragini smiled, a hint of pride in her eyes. 

"I’m glad you said that, have you told him?" she replied. 

Sonarika let out a small breath. 

"It’s not that simple" She picked up her phone from the table. 

"I did post a picture this morning… wearing this. He’s definitely seen it"

"And?" Ragini pressed gently.

"I tried calling him" Sonarika said, her voice lowering slightly. 

"He didn’t answer"

Ragini stepped closer, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. 

"Reconciliation isn’t easy, it never is" she said softly. 

Sonarika nodded, but her expression grew distant again. 

"I don’t even know if I should try" she admitted.

“Why would you say that?” Ragini frowned slightly. 

After a brief hesitation, Sonarika spoke. 

"I met Anjana yesterday" 

She explained the conversation—the suggestions, the certainty in Anjana’s words, the future she had painted with Vikram. 

"And… a part of me feels she’s right" she added quietly. 

"I broke something that can’t be fixed"

The room felt heavier for a moment.

"Hemant has changed" Sonarika continued. 

"Ever since we filed for divorce… he’s not the same person anymore. And even if I try—really try—I don’t think he’ll ever look at me the same way again. My betrayal… that’s all I’ll ever be to him"

Ragini crossed her arms, studying her. 

"So you’re giving up?" she asked, not harshly, but directly. 

Sonarika didn’t answer immediately. Her silence itself felt like an answer struggling to form. Before she could speak, the door burst open.

"Mumma!"

Karan ran in, his voice filled with pure excitement. The tension in the room dissolved instantly as Sonarika turned, her face lighting up in a way it hadn’t all evening.

"There’s my little hero" 

She said warmly, bending down to scoop him into her arms. She hugged him tightly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

"Are you ready for tonight?"

"Yes!" he said enthusiastically. 

"I miss Papa"

The question landed softly but deeply. Sonarika’s smile flickered, just for a second, before she masked it gently. 

"Let’s try calling him, hmm?"

At Karan’s eager nod, she picked up her phone again and dialed Hemant’s number. The call rang. And rang. Then switched to engaged. She stared at the screen for a moment before lowering it slowly.

"Papa might be busy right now" she said softly, brushing Karan’s hair back. 

"We’ll talk to him later, okay?"

Karan nodded, though a hint of disappointment lingered in his eyes.

"It’s okay, tonight is still going to be special" Sonarika added gently. 

She set him down and began helping him get ready, adjusting his outfit, fixing his collar, smoothing his hair. Her movements were careful, affectionate, filled with a kind of quiet devotion that Ragini couldn’t help but notice.

Standing to the side, Ragini watched silently.

Because in those small moments—in the way Sonarika smiled at Karan, in the way her voice softened—there was no confusion, no hesitation. Only love. And yet, just beneath that, there was still a storm waiting to unfold. As Sonarika finally stood up, dressed, composed, and ready to leave, she took one last look at herself in the mirror. The blue dress. The choice she had made. The man she still couldn’t let go of. And the uncertain road ahead. Taking a deep breath, she reached for Karan’s hand.

"Come on, let’s go" she said softly. 

And with that, she stepped out into the night—carrying hope, guilt, and a mind that still hadn’t decided which way it truly wanted to go.

                                                                                                                              (TO BE CONTD)

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                      (CHAPTER CONTD)            

The night came alive the moment Sonarika and her family arrived at the concert venue of Arijit Singh. The air itself seemed to hum with anticipation—lights flashing, people pouring in, laughter and excitement blending into a shared rhythm. It felt like stepping into a different world, one where emotions were louder, brighter, and harder to hide.


At the entrance, they were greeted by Vikram, standing confidently with his younger siblings, Pawan and Sriti. The contrast from the last time Sonarika had seen them—at Ritesh’s memorial in Gurgaon—was striking. That day had been filled with silence and grief; tonight was full of life. Conversations flowed more easily, smiles came quicker, and the heaviness that once lingered between them had softened, if only for the evening.

Jagjeet quickly found common ground with Vikram, their discussion drifting into business, particularly Bajajcorp and its legacy. Their voices carried a tone of mutual respect, a familiarity built on past dealings. Meanwhile, Meenakshi was introduced to Sreelekha Naik, and the two women slipped into a conversation that felt both polite and quietly evaluative—especially when it turned toward Sonarika’s future in Goa.

"Where’s Katherine?" Sonarika asked softly at one point.

Sreelekha shook her head. 

"She stayed back at the hotel. Crowds like this… they’re not easy for her"

Sonarika nodded, understanding more than questioning. Soon, the group moved into the main concert area. The energy there was overwhelming in the best way—lights sweeping across the crowd, music vibrating through the ground, and an atmosphere soaked in romance and nostalgia. It felt like every person there was carrying a story, and the music was stitching them together for a few fleeting hours.

Karan, full of excitement, was soon whisked away by Anjali and Ragini toward a cozier section, where they could enjoy the show more comfortably. Sonarika watched him go with a smile before turning back to the stage, letting herself absorb the moment. Not long after, Vikram approached her. 

"Come" he said with a soft smile. 

"I want to show you something"

He led her and the others to a private gallery he had booked—an elevated space with a perfect view of the stage. The entire group gathered there, laughter returning, voices rising as song after song filled the night. Sonarika found herself singing along with Ragini, Anjali, and even Karan when he returned briefly, their voices blending with thousands of others.

For a while, everything felt simple. But then, curiosity tugged at her. She noticed an upper section of the gallery—more secluded, dimly lit, almost hidden. Drawn to it, she made her way upstairs quietly. What she saw there felt like stepping into a different kind of space.

Mouni and Sagar stood close together, lost in their own world, swaying gently to the music. Nearby, Meghna and Disha shared a similar closeness, their laughter low, their presence intimate. The sight unsettled her slightly—especially Meghna, whose role in bringing her and Vikram together still lingered uncomfortably in her mind.

And then, in the far corner—Vikram. He stood alone, his gaze distant, as though the music hadn’t quite reached him. But the moment he noticed her, his entire expression changed—like a lighthouse cutting through darkness.

"You came" he said, a warmth returning to his voice.

Sonarika felt a quiet relief seeing that shift. For a moment, she allowed herself to forget everything—the complications, the guilt, the weight of decisions waiting ahead. They stood there together, just like they used to. In Galaxy Apartments. In Bali. During those late-night dinners where time seemed to pause just for them. And then, as if the night itself had chosen the moment, Arijit started to sing 'Aavan Jaavan' from War 2.

"This is your moment" Vikram smiled softly. 

Sonarika turned toward the stage, her heart stirring as the familiar melody filled the air. Without realizing it, she began to sing along, her voice blending into the music. The world around her faded—the crowd, the noise, everything.



Vikram stepped closer, his arms gently wrapping around her from behind. They moved with the rhythm, their voices low, their breaths syncing with the song. Memories flooded in—moments that once felt beautiful, full, undeniable. The mornings they had shared, the laughter, the quiet understanding that had once convinced her he was everything she needed. For a fleeting moment, it all felt real again.

Complete.

Ni tere sufne de vich sohneya                                                                          (Oh beloved, in your dreams)
Ni tere sufne de vich sohneya                                                                          (Oh beloved, in your dreams)
Saanu vi kadi aavan jaavan de                                                                  (At times allow me to come and go as well)

He turned her gently, his hand guiding her face toward his. Their eyes met, and something in that gaze held her there—something deep, almost hypnotic. 

Mere ambar mein aake joh thehra hai                                                              (The one who has settled in my sky)
Hai woh suraj nahi tera chehra hai                                                                       (It's not the sun, but your face)
Zyada sone se bhi joh sunehra hai                                                                 (It's more golden than even gold itself)
Sajra sajra, sajra sajra                                                                                             (It's fresh and radiant)
Tere toh dil nu laga ke sohneya                                                                     (Oh beloved, I've given my heart to you)
Tere toh dil nu laga ke sohneya                                                                     (Oh beloved, I've given my heart to you)
Saanu bhi kadi jashan manaavan de                                                               (At times allow me to celebrate as well)

The distance between them closed slowly, their breaths mingling, their lips just a heartbeat away. And then—Something broke. The trance shattered. Reality rushed back in. Sonarika stepped back abruptly, her expression changing in an instant. The warmth drained from her face, replaced by something uncertain, shaken.

"What happened?" Vikram asked softly.

But she didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Instead, she turned and walked away—quickly, almost urgently—leaving the quiet intensity of that space behind. Back in the lower gallery, she found Ragini.

"Where were you?" Ragini asked.

Sonarika didn’t respond. Not to that. She simply gathered Anjali and Karan, her hand instinctively reaching for her son’s. 

"Come, Let’s go closer to the stage" she said gently. 

They moved into the crowd, into the heart of the concert, where everything was louder, brighter, harder to think through.

Sonarika held Karan close as the music continued, his small presence grounding her in a way nothing else could. At one point, as she looked at him smiling, singing along, she imagined Hemant standing beside them.

Just for a moment. A complete picture. A family. Her chest tightened, but she didn’t let herself linger there. She glanced once toward the private gallery. Vikram stood there, watching. Even from a distance, she could see the disappointment in his eyes—but he still smiled. And after a moment, so did she. A small, quiet smile. Then she turned back—to Karan, to Ragini, to the music, to the life still in front of her. And somewhere deep within, beneath all the confusion and noise, a feeling settled softly into place.

For now—She was doing the right thing.

As the final notes of the concert faded into the night and the crowd began to thin, a soft exhaustion settled over everything—like the calm after a storm of emotions. Lights dimmed, conversations grew louder again, and people slowly began returning to their own realities.

"Mumma… can we call Papa?" Karan tugged gently at Sonarika’s hand. 

There was no hesitation this time. Sonarika nodded and pulled out her phone. She knew one thing for certain—no matter what stood broken between them, Hemant would never ignore Karan. Not him. The call rang. Once. Twice. Again. Her eyes stayed fixed on the screen, her heartbeat slowing with each passing second. But the call kept ringing… and ringing…Until it stopped. No answer.

"Papa didn’t pick…" Karan’s face fell almost instantly. 

Sonarika quickly pulled him close, smoothing his hair gently. 

"Papa must be busy, baby" she said softly, forcing a reassuring smile. 

"We’ll call him later, okay?"

Karan nodded, though the disappointment lingered in his small eyes. Sensing it, Sonarika shifted his attention, pointing toward the stage, talking about the lights, the music—anything to bring his smile back.

And slowly, it worked. But for Sonarika, something had shifted again. A small, quiet doubt had crept in. After the concert, Vikram had arranged a grand dinner at a posh hotel. The setting was lavish—soft golden lighting, a long table reserved exclusively for them, impeccable service. It felt like a celebration meant to close the night on a high. Everyone was there. Talking. Laughing. Reliving moments from the concert.

Sonarika smiled along, participating where she could, but there was a tension beneath her calm. Being surrounded by so many people—especially Meghna and Mouni—felt… unsettling. These were not just faces in a crowd. These were people who had, in their own ways, played roles in the choices she had made. In the mistakes she now carried.

At one point, Sreelekha raised her glass.

"To new beginnings, to Sonarika, and the incredible journey that awaits her at VATIKA. I expect nothing but the best from you" 

She said warmly. Glasses lifted around the table. Smiles followed.

"To Sonarika"

She nodded, offering a grateful smile, though her fingers tightened slightly around her glass. As she lowered it, her eyes met Vikram’s. He was already looking at her. There it was again—that same magnetic pull, that quiet intensity in his gaze. It unsettled her more now than it comforted her. She broke eye contact first. After dinner, she excused herself and walked toward the washroom, needing a moment alone. But she didn’t find it. Meghna was already there. She caught Sonarika’s reflection in the mirror and smiled—a slow, knowing smile that immediately put her on edge. 

"Well, looks like you’ve finally found your path. Goa suits you, doesn’t it?" 

Meghna said casually, turning on the tap, Sonarika didn’t respond immediately, focusing on washing her hands.

"And Vikram, your connection with him seems stronger than ever" 

Meghna continued, her tone light but pointed. 

"That’s not true" 

Sonarika said firmly. Meghna laughed softly. 

"Oh please. I saw you both upstairs. You can pretend all you want, but you can’t ignore what’s there" 

She leaned slightly closer. 

"It’s not just infatuation, Sonarika. It never was"

"Stop it" Sonarika snapped, her patience thinning.

Meghna only smiled wider. 

"What? Planning to go back to Hemant now? After everything?" she said mockingly. 

The words hit harder than Sonarika expected.

"That’s not your concern" 

She replied, her voice tight. Meghna let out a short laugh. 

"You really think that’s possible? After what you’ve done? You’ve done too much damage" 

She shook her head. Sonarika’s jaw clenched.

"And anyways, Hemant’s doing quite well for himself. Haven’t you heard?"

Meghna added, almost casually. Sonarika looked at her sharply.

"In certain circles, they’ve started calling him ‘Alpha' Kumar..." 

Meghna continued, drying her hands slowly, The name alone felt unfamiliar.

"Seems he’s been… quite popular lately" Meghna added, her tone dripping with implication. 

"Especially among the Bollywood Ladies"

Something burned inside Sonarika—anger, disbelief, something sharper than both.

"Be careful" she said, her voice low but firm. 

"Don’t make the mistake of turning me into your enemy"

"We’re long past that, dear" Meghna paused, then laughed softly. 

She stepped closer, her voice dropping just enough to feel personal.

"You still don’t get it, do you?" she said. 

"You were never just making choices. You were being moved"

"What are you talking about?" Sonarika frowned. 

Meghna’s smile didn’t fade. 

"You’re a pawn, Sonarika. Always have been" She tilted her head slightly. 

"And whether you like it or not… your fate is still in play. In things much bigger than you"

Before Sonarika could respond, Meghna turned and walked out. Leaving behind silence. And unease. Sonarika stood there for a moment, her reflection staring back at her—but it didn’t feel like her anymore. Her hands trembled slightly as she picked up her phone. She called Hemant again. Engaged. The same result. A deep breath later, she dialed another number. Tara. The call connected.

"Tara, where is Hemant?" Sonarika asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

There was a brief pause before Tara responded. 

"Sir had to leave the city for an important matter"

“Where?” Sonarika pressed.

"London" Tara replied.

"London? Why?" The answer caught her off guard. 

"He mentioned… settling some old business" Tara said carefully.

The call ended, but the thoughts didn’t. London. Her mind immediately went back—long ago, when Hemant had first traveled there before the birth of YOD Industries. The first prototype. The first deals. And then it clicked.

ANVIL

The private military corporation—his biggest clients. A chill ran through her. As the family made their way home later that night, still talking about the concert, laughing, reliving moments, Sonarika sat quietly among them. Physically present. But mentally somewhere else. With Hemant. With the life he was building. With the man he was becoming. And for the first time, she wondered—not just who he had been…But who he was now. And whether she had already lost him to a world she never truly understood.


THE NEXT MORNING


Sonarika woke with a start, her breath uneven, her body still wrapped in the warmth of something that didn’t exist. For a fleeting moment, she didn’t question it. She was back there. Back in Mumbai. Back in that apartment that once held her entire world together. She felt his arm around her, firm and familiar. Heard his voice, soft and close.

"Sona…"

The name alone melted something inside her. She turned toward him, instinctively, her fingers brushing against his chest, her lips finding his in a moment that felt so real—so achingly real—And then—She woke up. This time for real. Her eyes opened to the quiet stillness of her room in Janakpuri. The ceiling fan spun lazily above her. The air felt colder, emptier. There was no warmth. No presence. Just absence. She sat up slowly, her hand unconsciously touching the space beside her, as if expecting him to still be there. But there was nothing. After freshening up, still carrying the lingering ache of that dream, she reached for her phone. A message from Tara blinked on the screen.

'Sir returned to Mumbai late last night'

Her heartbeat quickened. Without thinking twice, she dialed his number. The call connected. And the moment he answered, everything she had been holding in spilled out.

"Where the hell were you?" her voice came sharp, unfiltered. 

"Do you have any idea how many times I called you?"

"I was out of the city" Hemant replied calmly. 

"I had something important to take care of"

"Excuses, every time" she snapped. 

"Even Tara didn’t know. I thought she was your assistant"

There was silence on the other end. Then his voice came again—steady, controlled.

"A close associate of mine passed away. I was attending the funeral"

The anger drained out of her instantly.

"I… I’m sorry" she said, her tone softening, guilt creeping in. 

"I didn’t know"

"Its all alright , I am used to the grimm and brooding moments , tragedies are consistent with me. Atleast I am glad it didn't affect you and your perfect family. Would've ruined your night with family at the concert"

The words hit her harder than she expected.

"Concert? You knew?"

"Of course. I saw the pictures in your social media" Hemant said simply.

"Karan missed you" she said quickly, almost defensively. 

"Some of those video calls… he wanted his Papa there. He wanted to show you"

There was a brief silence. Then Hemant spoke, his voice softer—but distant.

"He can have his happy moments with his Papa when he comes home from vacation. After all he has a new home waiting for him"

"He’ll love it. I’m sure" Sonarika tried to soften the space between them. 

"Hope so....its just been few days and I already miss his antics...I saw how happy he was in those concert photos.." 

Hemant said. with a faint exhale. For a second, there was no bitterness. Just… something real. But it didn’t last.

"I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.....surrounded by your loved ones. Your parents. Karan. Anjali. Your friends. Mouni. Sagar.  Your Vikram" 

"My Vikram? What are you talking about?" Sonarika stiffened. 

“How did the double date go?” he asked, almost casually.

"Double date? Hemant, who told you this?" Her breath caught.

"Kunal told me. Mouni bragged to him about their planned double date with you and Vikram to rekindle the kind of bonding you guys had in the past"

Hemant confessed with a bitter tone. Sonarika shut her eyes briefly, frustration building. 

"Hemant....There was no double date...you have to believe me" she said firmly.

Silence followed. A long one. Then—

"How can I believe you...after everything. But one thing is certain Sonarika. I am no longer upset , lately I was bothered by the separation. But this isolation also helped seeing things a little clearly. Maybe somewhere , I did slip up in our marriage and that resulted in you choosing Vikram. And now , I am no longer bothered by it!"

Her chest tightened. His words felt heavier than anger ever could.

"I’m happy for you. Truly. You’ve found someone who makes your life feel complete. And it’s time I let you go—for real. So this divorce doesn’t become another wound. I don't want us to end up like a toxic couple and learn to hate each other. We will just focus on Karan and his well being for now and make sure our individual time is spend on his childhood so that he doesn't feel anything left out in life!"

Her throat tightened. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she couldn’t stop him. Her vision blurred.

"Life has taught me that not everytime one can have hope. Sometimes its just suffering , and for someone to truly move on , one has to use that suffering as a motivation rather than a means of pain. I have accepted that you have moved on and for the moment. It has given me peace. So I wish you nothing but a bright future ahead , even if I am not a part of it!" 

He finished

"Call me in the evening for Karan. Have a good day and a great future Sonarika. Bye!" 

He gave his final words in the call.

"Hemant, wait—"

The line went dead. Sonarika sat there, frozen, the phone still in her hand. His words echoed again and again, each one carving deeper than the last.
A broken sound escaped her lips as the tears finally fell. This wasn’t anger. This wasn’t resentment. This was worse. This was acceptance. And it shattered her. Slowly, she stood up, her steps unsteady, and made her way to the garden outside. The morning light felt too bright, too indifferent to the storm inside her. She sat down, away from everyone, her face buried in her hands. And for the first time in months, the weight of it all truly settled in. Not just the mistake. Not just the betrayal. But the loss. The finality of it. Regret flooded her—sharp, relentless. Regret for the choices she had made. Regret for the moment everything had changed. Regret for not seeing what she had… until it was too late. She thought of Hemant. Of who he had been. Of who he had become. And how far away he felt now. The distance wasn’t just physical anymore. It was something deeper.Something she didn’t know how to cross. And as she sat there, quietly breaking under the weight of it all, one truth became impossible to ignore—She hadn’t just lost her marriage. She had lost him.

A few hours later, Sonarika stood outside Vikram’s hotel room. Her fingers tightened slightly around the edge of her pink saree. She had chosen it carefully—soft, elegant… controlled. She had come here with a purpose. To stop this. To make sure last night never repeated itself. She took a quiet breath and rang the bell. The door opened. Vikram stood there in an open shirt and loose pants, his hair slightly messy, like he had been in the middle of something. But the moment he saw her, his expression shifted—his eyes lighting up instantly.

"Sonarika…"

That smile. That same magnetic pull. For a brief second, she forgot everything she had rehearsed.

"Hi…"  she said softly.

Vikram stepped aside, letting her in, his gaze not leaving her. 

"You look… incredible" he said, almost under his breath. 

"This saree—honestly, it just… amplifies everything about you"

She gave a faint, playful scoff, trying to steady herself. 

"You’re just saying that because you like staring at my midriff and navel"

"I do" He didn’t even hesitate. 

The honesty caught her off guard. To distract herself, she looked around. 

"What were you doing?"

"Trying to fix this. Buttons came off" Vikram picked up his shirt slightly. 

"You? Fixing clothes? I thought someone like you would just buy a new one"

She raised an eyebrow. 

"I could. But this one’s my favorite shirt" He chuckled lightly. 

"Do you even know how to stitch properly?" she asked, a hint of amusement in her tone.

"I try, though I’ve stabbed myself a few times already" he admitted. 

She noticed the tiny pricks on his fingers—and without thinking, she stepped closer.

"Give it to me" she said gently.

Vikram watched her as she took over. Her fingers moved with quiet precision, pulling out a longer thread when she noticed his was too short.

"You even messed this up" she teased lightly.

"I had faith in improvisation" he replied.

She shook her head faintly, a small smile forming despite herself. Carefully, she threaded the needle, her focus shifting entirely to the task. For a moment, it felt simple. Normal. But the air between them began to change. Too quiet. Too aware. She could feel his gaze on her. When it was done, she leaned forward instinctively, bringing the thread to her mouth to bite it clean. The action bared the line of her throat. She heard his sharp intake of breath.

She had to look up then. Their eyes met. The world stopped. It was the concert all over again, but a thousand times more potent. There was no crowd here, no music to blame. Just the two of them, and a decade of unfinished desire screaming in the quiet. He moved first. His thumb came up, brushing against her lower lip. He showed her the tiny black filament caught on his skin. The touch was incendiary. It sparked a conflagration that raced down her spine, pooling low in her belly.

Then he kissed her. It wasn’t gentle. It was possession. A reclaiming. His lips were demanding, his tongue seeking immediate entrance, and with a broken sob she granted it. Her hands, frozen at her sides, were forcibly lifted by him and wrapped around his neck. The feel of his warm skin, the solid muscle of his shoulders under her fingers—it shattered the last of her resistance. He broke the kiss only to shrug off the shirt she had just mended, letting it fall to the floor. Her handiwork, discarded. The symbolism was lost in a haze of need. Her palms slid over his naked torso, rediscovering the familiar landscape of him. The heat of his skin was a brand.

His mouth was everywhere. Her cheeks, her jaw, the frantic pulse at the base of her neck. His teeth scbangd her collarbone through the silk of her blouse, and a whimper escaped her. He unwrapped her pallu in one swift, practiced motion, the six yards of pink silk sighing to the carpet. He knelt before her, his eyes dark with worship, fixed on the hole of her navel.

"Vicky…" she pleaded, but it was not a stop.



He leaned forward and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her stomach, just above the waistband of her petticoat. Then his tongue flicked out, tracing the delicate dip of her navel. The sensation was so intimate, so shockingly erotic that her knees buckled. A sharp, ragged moan tore from her throat.

He guided her back until she was sitting on the edge of the large couch, his hands working the tiny hooks of her blouse with an urgency that made her shiver. The pink fabric parted. He peeled it open, then fumbled with the front clasp of her matching bra. It sprang open, and her full, heavy breasts spilled into his waiting hands, into the cool air of the room.

"God, Soni. I’ve dreamed of these" A groan ripped from his chest. 

His mouth was on her left nipple before she could draw another breath. There was no tenderness, only raw, desperate hunger. He suckled hard, his tongue lashing the stiffened peak, his teeth grazing the sensitive areola. Pleasure, sharp and electric, shot directly to her core, making her arch off the couch with a cry. He switched to the right breast, giving it the same relentless, worshipful attention, sucking and slurping as his hands kneaded the soft, yielding flesh.

"I want to drink you" he gasped against her damp skin, moving back to the left. 

"I want to taste your milk here"

A hysterical, breathless laugh bubbled up in her. 

"You’d… ah!… you’d have to learn how a woman’s body works first"

He looked up, his lips glistening, his eyes burning. 

"I know how it works. I’ll put my baby in this belly, and then I’ll have my fill" 

The crude, possessive promise should have revolted her. It did the opposite. It stoked the fire higher. 

"Has anyone ever loved these like I do?" he demanded, his thumb circling a nipple. 

"Has anyone ever made you moan like this?"

"Hemant" The name fell from her lips, unbidden, a stupid, reflexive truth. 

Hemant

The sound of his name was a bucket of ice water. Reality crashed back in a sickening wave. The taste of Vikram’s skin turned to ash in her mouth. The pleasure curdled into a deep, gut-wrenching shame. She looked down—at her breasts exposed and glistening from his mouth, at this man who was not her Hemant on his knees between her thighs, at the wreckage of her marriage scattered in this hotel room.

"No" 

The word was a gasp. She shoved him back, hard, scrambling away. Her hands flew to her chest, clumsily hooking her bra, yanking her blouse closed. 

"No, no, no. This is a mistake. A terrible mistake"

"Sonarika, wait—" Vikram reached for her, confusion and lingering desire warring on his face.

But she was already running, snatching her pallu from the floor, fumbling with the lock. She didn’t look back. She fled down the corridor, the echo of her own heartbeat a frantic drum of condemnation in her ears. The ride home was a silent, nauseating blur. She walked into her maternal home on trembling legs, ignoring everyone else, and locked herself in her old bedroom.

Only then did she collapse. Her back slid down the length of the door until she hit the floor, a broken doll. The tears came then, hot and silent and full of a despair so complete it choked her. She crumpled forward, her forehead touching her knees, the expensive pink silk of her saree bunching around her. She wept for the woman she had been, for the wife she had failed to be, for the tempting, ruinous path she had almost taken.

'I am a wreck. A shipwreck' 

The thought was a cold, certain truth. 

'Hemant left because he saw this in me. This weakness. This chaos. I don’t deserve to be saved. I deserve to sink'

In the dark silence of the room, hunched on the floor, Sonarika felt all hope dissolve, leaving nothing but the salt of her tears and the aching, hollowed-out memory of Vikram’s mouth on her skin.

                                                                                                                               (TO BE CONTD)

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                             (CHAPTER CONTD)                         

The evening sky had begun to dim when Sonarika reached Reshma’s house. For a moment, she just stood outside the door, gathering herself. Her fingers trembled slightly as she rang the bell. The door opened almost instantly.

"Sonarika!" 

Reshma’s face lit up with genuine warmth as she pulled her into a hug. But just as quickly, that warmth shifted into concern. 

"Hey… what happened? You don’t look okay"

That was all it took. Sonarika’s composure cracked again—but this time, she held it just enough to step inside.

"Sit. Breathe. Tell me everything" Reshma guided her to the couch, gently holding her hand. 

And this time…Sonarika didn’t hold back. The words came slowly at first. Then all at once. She confessed everything—the affair with Vikram, the choices she had made, the way it had shattered her marriage , everything to this moment , every detail , every situations , every emotions. Her voice broke multiple times, but she didn’t stop. Then came the part she had never fully said out loud.

"Ever since that freak accident…I was never the same… something changed in me. I couldn’t control certain urges. It felt like… I wasn’t myself anymore" 

She whispered. Reshma didn’t interrupt. She just listened. Carefully. Quietly. Absorbing every piece. When Sonarika finally finished, the room fell silent for a moment. Then Reshma exhaled slowly.

"That explains a lot…"

"What do you mean?" Sonarika looked at her, confused. 

Reshma leaned back slightly, her eyes thoughtful. 

"You weren’t always like this, Sonarika. The girl I knew… she was curious. Always exploring, always questioning things. You used to find joy in the smallest discoveries"

A faint, broken smile touched Sonarika’s lips at the memory.

"Your love for plants, that didn’t come from nowhere. That was your nature" 

Reshma continued, her tone softened.

"But somewhere along the way… you lost that. You became… quieter. More withdrawn. Like you stopped being you"

"It started after that stupid accident… when that grill fell. I tried to push Meghna out of the way…"

Sonarika’s eyes lowered. Reshma’s expression shifted slightly at the name.

"Do you trust Meghna?" she asked suddenly.

Sonarika hesitated.

"I used to, she was… everything to me back then. My support system" she admitted.  

Her voice hardened slightly. 

"But now… I don’t know. Something feels off. Especially after realizing how much she pushed Vikram into my life"

"That makes sense" Reshma nodded slowly. 

"How?" Sonarika asked.

Reshma stood up and walked inside, returning with a file in her hand.

"There’s something I never told you. Back when you were recovering… I was in Delhi. I went to the hospital to see you" 

She said, sitting down again. Sonarika looked up, surprised.

"But Meghna stopped me, She said you shouldn’t be disturbed. That you head injury was severe and was on the verge of memory loss. That you needed distance from your past" 

Reshma continued. A pause.

"And I believed her at that time. But something about it… didn’t sit right with me"

"Reshma , I didn't have that much serious health complication?" Sonarika stated with shock.

"I know Sonarika , I learned it after what happened later"

Sonarika’s breath grew shallow.

"Years later, I found out something else. My visit at that time in Delhi was meant to be longer as I planned to move back for a diploma course at a university nearby. They greenlit the application initially,  but after trying to visit you in the hospital , a few days later , I recieved a notification that my appilcation was rejected citing that I wasn't 'qualified' enough. Years later , through my husband , I learned that my rejection was done due to managament pressure"  

Reshma went on, tapping the file lightly. Sonarika’s fingers tightened.

"And when I investigated that pressure, I learned one of the management member had close ties with Meghna" 

Reshma said quietly. Silence filled the room.

"She wasn't just a journalist" Reshma added. 

"She’s connected to something much bigger. A network…..of powerful people, political influence, illegal operations...including ties to a woman in power who runs a sex trafficking ring to seize power and influence" 

Her voice lowered. Sonarika felt her chest tighten. This was beyond what she had imagined.

"I knew she was… manipulative, but this…?" she whispered. 

"Hey. Look at me" Reshma reached out and held her hand firmly. 

Sonarika did.

"You’re not alone in this" Reshma said gently. 

"Whatever she’s doing—there’s a reason. And we’ll figure it out"

But Sonarika shook her head, tears forming again.

"None of that changes what I’ve done" she said, her voice breaking. 

"I’ve already lost Hemant. Completely. There’s no going back"

Reshma didn’t agree.

"You’ve changed" she said calmly.

"How can you be so sure?" Sonarika frowned through her tears. 

"Because this time, you resisted" Reshma said, her voice steady.

Sonarika froze.

"You didn’t give in. Based on all the things you told me , unlike all the time Vikram had worked his charm on you , this time , you resisted Vikram. You didn't succumb to the temptation easily , you showed resolve , you revolted. This shows that you are not that vulnerable and broken woman anymore" 

Reshma continued.Something shifted slightly inside Sonarika.

"You’re not that helpless, submissive version of yourself anymore You're resisting , you are revolting , I see my old daring classmate in you again now. And my faith in her still lives" 

Reshma added. Sonarika wiped her tears slowly, listening.

"You need to reconnect with who you really are....what you are meant to be" Reshma said. 

"And you need guidance. Talk to Dhananjay Shankar. The truth will show you your path"

There was a pause before Reshma added, more softly—

"And understand something… relationships aren’t perfect. Even mine wasn’t"

Sonarika looked at her, surprised. Reshma smiled faintly. 

"Suresh and I… we went through a phase. We tried 'open marriage' for two years to spice things up. We did with full discussion and consent with each other understanding each other's limits. I did things I never did in marriage , he did the same. But we still found our way back to each other , as promised. And we found our relationship to be stronger than ever that only deepened after two of my kids. Now those two years fuel our sex life in this lifetime. But just because it worked for us , doesn't mean it will work for others. That is where you went wrong Sonarika. Rather than discussing your needs to your husband , you seeked a thrill and broke his trust and love for you"

She leaned forward slightly.

"I’m not justifying your betrayal , I am simply pointing out that you now see your mistakes and betrayal and you understand your failings. That is the path of redemption. There is no guarantee you will get him back , but you can for the first time actually fight for him and his love" 

Reshma said gently. Sonarika lowered her gaze.

"The path back to him…..it’s gone" she whispered, 

"Maybe the old path is, but that doesn’t mean a new one can’t be built" Reshma said. 

Sonarika looked up again.

"Not by forcing anything but by becoming true to each other , because that is the truth both of you must accept , both of you lived each other's lies. Its time to give truth that chance , not just for love , but for the family that relies on that love. And family is everything worth fighting for Sonarika!" 

Reshma continued. A quiet determination began to replace the chaos in Sonarika’s eyes.

"You show him—not with words, but with who you truly are—that there’s only one place your heart truly belongs. You pay the penance for your sins and in the end show him how much he matter to you , don't tell him , just show him. Make him understand why you want this to work , convince him for a second chance and then rebuild your world again this time with truth and a new resolve , everyone deserves a second chance as long as its geuine and is to redeem!"

Tears still lingered, but they weren’t the same anymore. They weren’t just pain. They carried something else. Resolve.

"I’ll meet Dhananjay Shankar" Sonarika said softly.

"Good" Reshma smiled. 

She squeezed her hand again. 

"And remember… whatever comes next—you won’t face it alone"

For the first time that day—Sonarika felt it. Not relief. Not happiness. But something she thought she had completely lost—A reason to stand back up.

THE NEXT MORNING

The cab slowed to a halt in front of a quiet residential complex. Sonarika stepped out, her eyes scanning the place Dan had shared. At the far end stood a rowhouse—old, weathered, carrying the same aged charm as her maternal home in Janakpuri. It didn’t look like the residence of someone extraordinary. And yet… something about it felt deliberate. She adjusted her formal shirt, neatly tucked into her slacks. The outfit wasn’t just about appearance—it was armor. She didn’t want to walk in as someone broken. She walked through the gate, her steps steady, and reached the door. Ding. As she waited, her eyes caught something—a small camera mounted at the far corner. It shifted slightly. Watching her. A soft mechanical beep followed. Then—Click. The door unlocked on its own. From inside, a familiar voice echoed, calm and casual—

"Door’s open. Come in"

Sonarika stepped inside. The interior was simple. Neat. Functional. But before she could take it all in, she saw him. Dan. He was approaching her in his wheelchair, balancing a tray while maneuvering himself forward. The effort was visible. Without thinking twice, Sonarika moved toward him.

"Let me—"

"I can manage" Dan said, instinctively holding onto the tray.

She paused for a second… then gently but firmly took it from him.

"There’s no shame in getting help, You’ve already given enough for this country" 

She said, her voice calm but certain. Dan looked at her. Really looked this time.

"Fair point" Then a faint smile appeared. 

She placed the tray on the nearby table and took a seat. Dan rolled forward, positioning himself across from her. The tray held a teapot and two cups. She poured herself some tea and took a sip.

"I prefer less sugar. So… if it’s not sweet enough, that’s on me" Dan leaned back slightly.

"It’s perfect" Sonarika shook her head lightly. 

A brief silence settled.

Then Dan’s expression shifted—more focused now.

"So.....You’re here to know about your husband" he said.

"I am. I want to know… who he really is" Sonarika nodded. 

Dan exhaled softly, as if preparing to revisit something significant.

"I don’t know what version of him you’ve seen" he began. 

"Maybe a regular guy. A corporate employee. Someone… ordinary"

He paused.

"But the man I met…..was anything but that" his eyes hardened slightly with memory, 

Sonarika’s attention sharpened. Dan leaned forward a little, his voice lowering—not out of secrecy, but gravity.

"I still remember the first day I met him" he said. 

"Clear as yesterday"

A faint smile crossed his lips—this one not light, but filled with something deeper.

"Because that was the day I realized… my life was about to change"

Sonarika didn’t interrupt. She could feel it. This wasn’t just a story. This was something that mattered.

"Meeting him, wasn’t just coincidence. It felt like… stepping into something far bigger than yourself" 

Dan continued, his gaze distant now, He looked back at her.

"And I knew, right then… that I was about to become part of something that wasn’t normal"

A slight pause.

"That I was going to be part of nothing short of a Spectacle!"

                                                                                                                            (TO BE CONTD)

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                          (CHAPTER CONTD)                      

6th FEBRUARY 2004 — BALTAL BASE CAMP, JAMMU AND KASHMIR



The cold didn’t just bite—it hunted. Lieutenant Dhananjay 'Dan' Shankar sat on a weathered ammunition crate, gloved hands clasped, breath fogging into the pale Himalayan dusk. The mountains loomed like silent sentinels around the base, their snow-covered ridges glowing faintly under a dying sun. There was a tension in the air that no amount of training could numb—a quiet, suffocating awareness that something big was coming.

Dan had arrived that morning under sealed orders, separated from his previous unit without explanation. That alone was enough to raise alarms. In Kashmir, nothing happened without reason. And lately, reasons were soaked in blood. Mujahideen attacks had escalated, becoming more brazen, more surgical. The valley wasn’t just unstable—it was boiling.

The camp reflected that unease. Soldiers moved with purpose, their conversations clipped and low. Crates of ammunition were stacked like barricades. Radio chatter crackled constantly from the command tents. Somewhere in the distance, a patrol vehicle roared to life and disappeared into the icy wilderness. Dan observed everything, his instincts sharpening with every passing second.

He stood up, adjusting his combat jacket, eyes scanning the perimeter. Every detail mattered. Every shadow could hide a threat. But just as he began piecing together the patterns of movement around him, a deep mechanical hum sliced through the air.

A helicopter.



Dan turned sharply toward the sound. Cutting through the pale sky was a Mi-16 transport chopper, descending steadily toward the landing zone. Snow whipped violently beneath it as it touched down, the rotor wash scattering ice and dust like a storm unleashed. Dan narrowed his eyes. Another unit, no doubt. Baltal was becoming a convergence point.

The side door slid open.

One by one, soldiers stepped out—disciplined, calculated, their boots hitting the ground in synchronized rhythm. Their gear was different—lighter, sleeker. Special operations, perhaps. Dan watched carefully, noting their posture, their silence, their precision. These weren’t ordinary troops.

Then, at the very end, someone else emerged.

The man stepped out without urgency, yet commanded attention instantly. Unlike the others, he wore an olive-green t-shirt instead of the standard uniform shirt. Aviator sunglasses shielded his eyes despite the fading light. His physique was imposing—broad shoulders, powerful arms, every movement radiating confidence without arrogance.

He walked past Dan.

For a fleeting moment, the man turned his head slightly, his gaze landing on Dan. Then came a smile—not mocking, not casual—but something warm, assured… dangerous in its own way. It wasn’t just charisma. It was presence. The kind that didn’t need to announce itself.

Dan felt it immediately. Respect. Curiosity. And something else—a quiet realization that this man wasn’t ordinary.

The moment passed. The man continued walking.

But it stayed with Dan.

Hours later, the entire assembly gathered inside the main hangar. Rows of soldiers stood in formation, boots aligned, shoulders squared. The hum of generators echoed faintly as floodlights illuminated the steel interior. The air inside felt heavier than outside—thick with anticipation.

"At ease!"

Major Sharma’s voice cut through the silence like a blade. He stood at the front, posture rigid, eyes scanning every man present. The room shifted slightly as soldiers relaxed just enough to comply.

Then came the sound of boots—measured, authoritative.

Brigadier Bakshi entered.

Every man straightened instinctively, respect snapping into place. Bakshi wasn’t just a senior officer—he was a battlefield legend. His presence alone carried the weight of decades of war, strategy, and survival. His gaze moved across the crowd, calculating, knowing.

"Gentlemen" he began, voice calm but commanding, 

"You are here because you are among the finest this country has to offer"

No one moved. No one spoke.

"Since the hijacking of IC 814, we have understood one thing very clearly—our enemies are evolving. They are no longer confined to borders. They are targeting our skies, our systems… our sovereignty"

A pause.

"And so, we evolve"

The words landed like a declaration of war.

"A new elite task force is being formed. Prototype designation—Tiger Force. Its purpose—strategic operations and the protection of India’s critical air infrastructure. You are the candidates"

A ripple of silent intensity spread through the room.

"To test your capability" Bakshi continued, 

"We are initiating a covert strike. Not far from here. A terror camp operating under heavy concealment in the hills. You will engage. You will neutralize"

His eyes hardened.

"And you will accomplish your mission"

He stepped back. Major Sharma took over. 

"Squad assignments will be issued now. Listen carefully"

Names were called. Units divided. Tension sharpened.

"Lieutenant Dan"

Dan stepped forward instantly. 

"Yes, sir"

"You have been assigned to Delta Squad"

"Understood, sir" Dan nodded once. 

Sharma’s gaze held his for a second longer. 

"You’ll be assaulting from the high ridge. Shock and awe. Fast insertion, aggressive engagement"

Dan felt a flicker of adrenaline surge through him.

"Your commanding officer—"

A pause.

"Captain Kumar"

Dan froze for just a fraction of a second. That man. The one from the helicopter. He could read his nameplate now.

Cpt. Hemant Kumar

There he was again—but different. Gone was the relaxed aura. In its place stood a fully geared soldier. Tactical vest, combat uniform, weapon slung with effortless familiarity. The sunglasses were gone, revealing sharp, focused eyes. The transformation was absolute.

"Lieutenant" Hemant said, extending a hand.

"Lieutinent Dan reporting for assignment sir" Dan shook it firmly. 

"Relax, Dan. Out there, we don’t have time for stiffness" A faint smile returned. 

There was something reassuring in his tone—confidence without ego.

“I’ve reviewed your record, You think fast. You adapt faster. I like that" Hemant continued. 

"I won’t slow you down, sir" Dan didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he met his gaze steadily. 

"Good. Because you won’t just be keeping up" Hemant chuckled lightly. 

A pause.

"You’ll be assisting me on this assault"

That hit harder than any order so far. Before Dan could respond, Hemant turned, addressing the squad now assembling behind him—battle-hardened men, each one carrying the same silent intensity.

"Listen up!" Hemant’s voice rose, sharp and clear. 

"We move at 1400 hours. High ridge insertion. No noise, no mistakes. We hit hard, we hit fast, and we neutralize them before they even understand what happened"

He looked at each of them, one by one.

"This isn’t just another mission"

A beat.

"This is the beginning"

Dan felt it in his bones now. This wasn’t routine. This wasn’t just another operation in a troubled region. This was something bigger. Something that would define them. Hemant’s final words sealed it.

"Gear up, Delta Squad"

His eyes locked onto Dan for a brief second.

"Operation Flaming Sun is a go!"

And just like that—The conquest had begun.

The sun stood high over the frozen passes of Zoji La, its light harsh and unforgiving against the white expanse. Noon in the mountains did little to soften the cold—but it revealed everything. And today, it revealed war in motion. Columns of Indian Army vehicles rolled steadily along the narrow highway below, engines growling against the silence of the valley. Dust and snow trailed behind them like a signal flare. It was deliberate. Loud. Impossible to ignore. Exactly as planned.

Inside those vehicles sat soldiers ready for impact—but their true purpose was deception. Miles above, hidden among jagged rocks and steep ridgelines, Delta Squad waited. The Hizbul Mujahideen launchpad nestled in the hills stirred to life as expected. Through binoculars, Dan could see the chaos unfolding—men scrambling, weapons being hauled into position, anti-tank launchers mounted with urgency. Radios crackled. Orders were shouted. The bait had been taken.

"They’re locking onto the convoy" Dan muttered, adjusting his scope.

Beside him, Commander Hemant Kumar remained still, eyes sharp, calculating every movement below. There was no excitement in his expression. Only timing.

"Good, Let them" Hemant said quietly. 

A beat.

"Delta… move"

The command was all it took. Within seconds, ropes were deployed over the cliff edge. One by one, shadows dropped from the sky—silent, precise, deadly. The wind howled as they descended, but their focus never wavered. Boots skimmed against rock, hands controlled the descent with mechanical perfection.

Then—Impact. The first soldier hit the ground and immediately opened fire.

The silence shattered. Gunfire erupted across the launchpad as Delta Squad unleashed controlled chaos. Suppressed bursts from customized UMPs tore through the startled terrorists. AK-47s roared in response, but it was too late. The attack had come from above—from nowhere.

Panic spread like wildfire.

"They’re on us! From the ridge!"

"Take cover—take—!"

The orders never finished.

Dan landed hard, rolled forward, and fired in one smooth motion. Two targets dropped instantly. He moved without hesitation, covering his flank, coordinating with the rest of the squad through hand signals and instinct. This wasn’t just combat. This was domination. At the center of it all was Hemant. He moved like a force of nature—relentless, unstoppable. His shots were precise, his movements fluid, every action calculated for maximum impact. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t second-guess. He led. And the battlefield bent around him. Within minutes, resistance began to crumble. But one man ran.

A terrorist broke from the chaos, sprinting uphill, desperate to escape the kill zone. He zigzagged through rocks, trying to break line of sight, trying to outrun death itself. Hemant saw him. Without a word, he gave chase. Dan noticed—but didn’t follow. Something told him this wasn’t a pursuit anyone else needed to interfere with. The chase climbed higher, away from gunfire, away from the dying echoes of battle. Boots crushed snow and gravel as predator and prey raced toward the edge of the mountain.

Then—The cliff.

A deep gorge split the terrain ahead, a deadly drop separating two rocky ledges. The terrorist didn’t stop. Driven by fear, he leapt across the gap—barely making it, crashing onto the other side. Hemant stopped at the edge. For a moment, there was only silence. The terrorist scrambled up, breathless, then turned back—and laughed. A broken, hysterical sound.

"I will bring more men from across , we will not spare a single one of you!!!!" 

He shouted across the gap. Hemant didn’t respond. He simply stared. Slowly, he reached to his side and pulled out a compact hatchet. The steel glinted under the harsh sunlight. Then, with deliberate calm, he tied it securely to the end of a rope coiled at his waist. The terrorist’s laughter faltered.



"What are you—"

Hemant began to swing. Once. Twice. The rope cut through the air with a low, rising whistle. The motion was smooth, controlled, gaining speed with every rotation. His eyes never left the target. The terrorist stepped back. Too late.

With a sudden, explosive motion, Hemant released. The rope shot forward like a missile. The hatchet spun once—Then struck. Clean. Brutal. Final. The blade buried itself into the man’s neck with devastating force, the momentum snapping his body backward. His decapitated body fell to the cliff followed by the severed head. Silence returned to the mountain, swallowing the last trace of resistance.

Hemant stood still for a second longer.

Then he pulled the rope back. And turned. By the time he returned to the launchpad, it was over. Smoke lingered in the air. Weapons lay scattered. Bodies marked the battlefield. Indian soldiers moved through the area, securing positions, confirming kills, checking for any survivors. Dan approached him, rifle slung but ready.

"All targets neutralized" he reported. 

"Mission Parameters Achieved"

Hemant gave a small nod, scanning the area once more. Satisfied.

"Mission accomplished"

The words carried weight—not just of victory, but of precision. Of perfection. Moments later, the sound of approaching vehicles echoed through the hills. Major Sharma arrived with reinforcements, stepping out with a look that quickly turned into unmistakable satisfaction. He surveyed the scene. Then looked at Hemant. At Dan. At Delta Squad. A rare smile broke through.

"Well done, gentlemen" Sharma said, voice filled with pride. 

"Command just confirmed"

A pause.

"This task force is no longer a prototype"

The soldiers nearby straightened, attention sharpening.

"It has been officially designated—"

He let the moment hang.

"—the Garuda Task Force"

The name settled into the air like a legacy being born. A wave of energy passed through the men. Some exhaled deeply. Others allowed themselves a brief grin. It wasn’t celebration in the traditional sense—but it was something stronger. Recognition. Honor. Beginning. Dan turned toward Hemant. For the first time since the operation began, there was a quiet exchange between them—not of rank, not of command—but of mutual respect earned in fire.

"Hell of a first mission" Dan said.

"You kept up" Hemant smirked slightly. A beat.

"Better than I expected"

Dan allowed himself a faint smile. Around them, soldiers secured the last of the perimeter as the sun began its slow descent beyond the peaks of Jammu and Kashmir. The mission was over. The battlefield was theirs. But neither of them mistook this moment for an end. This was only the beginning.


MONTHS LATER AT NAL AIRFORCE STATION BIKANER , RAJASTHAN


Two months later — skies above Bikaner.

The rumble of engines echoed through the dry desert air as an Antonov An-32 descended steadily toward the runway of Nal Air Force Station. From above, the base looked like a fortress carved into sand—runways cutting through golden terrain, hangars lined like silent guardians, and heat waves dancing over the tarmac.

Inside the aircraft, the atmosphere was far from relaxed. Gear rattled softly with the vibration of descent. Soldiers of the newly formed Garuda Task Force sat strapped in, their expressions calm but alert. For them, "Airfield Protection" didn’t mean rest—it meant more awareness. And waiting, in their line of work, was often more dangerous than action.Commander Hemant Kumar sat by the side, arms folded, eyes half-closed—not asleep, but thinking. Across from him, Second In Command Dhananjay 'Dan' Shankar wiped sweat from his forehead, already irritated.

"We’ve barely landed and I can feel my soul evaporating, who posts combat units in an oven?" 

Dan muttered. 

"You survived Kashmir. You’ll survive Rajasthan" Hemant smirked without opening his eyes.

"That was cold, this is a giant microwave owen!" Dan shot back.

A few of the squad chuckled under their breath. The aircraft touched down with a heavy thud, tires screeching briefly before stabilizing. 



The rear ramp lowered, and a wave of heat rushed in like an ambush. It wasn’t just hot—it was relentless, wrapping around them instantly. They stepped out onto the tarmac. Blinding sunlight. Dry wind. Endless horizon.

"I take it back. I’d choose bullets over this" Dan squinted. 

Hemant inhaled deeply, scanning the base with quiet appreciation. 

"Feels alive, different kind of battlefield" he said. 

They moved forward, carrying their gear, boots striking against concrete. Around them, Indian Air Force personnel moved with their own rhythm—pilots, engineers, ground crew. It was a different world from the mountains, but no less intense. A commanding officer approached, crisp and efficient.

"Commander" he acknowledged. 

"Your quarters are assigned near the control tower. New block. You’ll report for coordination brief at 1800 hours"

"Understood, sir" Hemant gave a sharp salute. 

The officer returned it and walked off without another word.

"Control tower, huh?" Dan said as they began walking. 

"At least we’ll get a breeze up there"

"Or a better view" Hemant replied casually.

They walked across the base, their pace steady. Conversations drifted naturally—fragments of past operations, near misses, silent victories. Since the formation of Garuda, they had already seen more action than most units would in years.

"Where do you think we go next?" Dan asked.

“Wherever the next bad guy emerges!" Hemant shrugged slightly. 

Before Dan could reply—A roar split the air. Both men instinctively turned. A Mikoyan-Gurevich MiG-27 screamed across the sky, descending with precision. The jet cut through the desert heat like a blade before touching down smoothly on the runway, trailing dust and power behind it.

Hemant stopped walking. Watched. There was something about fighter jets—the raw aggression, the control, the defiance of gravity. Even for a man like him, it commanded respect. The MiG-27 taxied toward the hangar, slowing as ground crew rushed into position. Ladders were brought in. Signals exchanged. Then the cockpit opened. The pilot emerged. At first, it was just a silhouette against the glare. Then clearer. A figure climbed down—confident, fluid. And then—Something unexpected. The helmet came off. A cascade of long hair loosened from a tight bun, falling freely over her shoulders. The desert wind caught it instantly, giving the moment an almost cinematic stillness. Hemant didn’t blink.

The pilot stepped down fully now—composed, unhurried. She removed her gloves, exchanging a few words with ground crew before turning—Toward him. Her face came into full view. Sharp eyes. Calm confidence. A presence that didn’t demand attention—yet owned it effortlessly. She then tied her hair to a bun and put on her aviators showing some swagger and personality.



Hemant felt it. A rare, unfamiliar pause in his otherwise controlled mind. As she walked past, his eyes instinctively dropped for a second—just enough to catch the name stitched onto her uniform.

Kirti Raghuvanshi

He repeated it silently. She kept walking. Then—Her eyes met his. Just for a second. And in that second, something shifted. A faint grin appeared on her lips—not wide, not obvious—but deliberate. Knowing. Then she looked ahead again and continued walking. Hemant remained still. Dan stepped beside him and snapped his fingers right in front of his face.

"Hey, This is an Air Force base, not a Bollywood set" Dan smirked. 

No response.

"Don’t tell me… Commander Saab is hit" Dan leaned closer. 

"Maybe" Hemant finally exhaled, a small smile forming. 

"You’re serious?" Dan blinked. 

Hemant looked ahead, then slightly back—just where she had walked.

"Maybe I just found something worth staying for"

"This place melts brains. That’s what it does" Dan shook his head, laughing. 

Hemant didn’t reply immediately. Instead, almost unconsciously, he looked back again. She was farther now. Walking away. Not looking back. For a moment, something unspoken passed through him—an absurd, fleeting thought. Turn back.

And then—As if the desert itself carried the message—She did. Kirthi Rathod turned her head over her shoulder. Her eyes found his again. This time, the grin was clearer. Warmer. Undeniable. And then she walked on. Dan went quiet. Even he felt that. Hemant stood there for a second longer, something settling deep within him—not distraction, not weakness… but anticipation.

Nal Air Force Station was supposed to be his new responsibility. A posting. A pause between spec ops. But as he picked up his gear and resumed walking—He knew. This place wasn’t just going to test him as a soldier. It was about to heal some things that were broken not so long ago. The breakup with Sanjana was still a flesh wound in his heart , but after seeing her. Something in him simply said maybe just maybe he was ready to move on. Something he had never trained for. And for the first time in a long time—The New Commander Hemant Kumar didn’t mind the uncertainty.


He was looking forward to experience what the future holds.

                                                                                                                     END OF CHAPTER 33

[Harry Jordan]

PHEW!

Another solid chapter. Now a lot of you may have noticed I ended the chapter halfway through the flashback. That is because we will spending a lot of time there getting to know Hemant's backstory before his ascension to the Archangel Vigilante. We are going to explore the blueprint behind Michael King and showcase what events resulted in someone like Hemant to transition to that. 

So enjoy Chapter 33 for now as more interesting events awaits us in the future with our Action Man right here!

      FROM YOURS TRULY

  HARRY JORDAN 

[DeanWinchester00007]

Well , Yeah Completely Agree . SOLID UPDATE !   

I love the way you sequence the events , So Sona knew half of the truth during the post concert Conversation .

and as For Sona ,   I was this close   to closing the tab , What a save    or else . They are the same Both VIKRAM , He just just going to bang her and she was letting him . No hesitation no nothing . That baby talk was so trash   , and If that excites her then it clearly shows where her heart is . I dont why she is doing all the drama , If she dont feel the ick around VIKRAM and still cares for him , and still see him as victim of hers and all the yuck breaking her heart talk , She should stick with him . The Chapter 25 goes directly into the trash . All her progress was just farce and nothing more . 


She cannot put the two men as equal in her life . If she consider VIKRAM as important as HEMANT , If He makes her think about having a future together then She should stick with VIKRAM , why the shallow hope and fake love for HEMANT , to whom she wants convince ?  The way she feels about him , Even in future Hypothetically Whoever she marry or live with She will  miss him . There is no scenario where VIKRAM will be just memory for her . Either accept VIKRAM or Sacrifice him both clearly shows She loves him and This is not fair to HEMANT. Either she totally loves Hemant or not . I dont know what happens in upcoming update , But One thing There is going to such a challenge . I wanna see How you gonna do it , If Sona really loves Hemant or not ? Love for Hemant and indifference towards VIKRAM  but again what ever you do , I just hope you dont choose that bollywood troupe of that Oh I like them both , But I love him more etc etc .  

She is just so Stupid . Anjana said so many things , She was nodding her head like kid . I am afraid tomorrow If DARAKSH approached her , she would believe  him too (She is so stupid , Every one is playing her . At this point I dont know If you are rage baiting or not   . The frustration i felt reading that part , clearly the story is working hahaha . That deserves appreciation ) 

That BITCH MEGHNA , She will neve change , which is good . After all things Hemant did , She is still the same but Good Good . I hope She is not out of Hemant's RADAR . 

This VIKRAM character is so irritating and No wonder ARIJIT SINGH is RETIRED probably that was his last concert . I hope DARAKSH just bash his fucking skull . I just hope for once HEMANT just beat the shit out of him . 

Leave it . 

So New Character , Katherine , Is she relevant to the story ? 

NOW , MY FAVORITE PART :- HEMANT's Back Story . 

First of all again , I love the way sequence the Flashback with ongoing story . So Sona knows about Hemant while He was doing his mission . 

Dan , was in wheelchair , I am curious to know what happened ? 

Hemant's Entry and THE FORMATION OF GARUDA was the best part of the story. I felt so excited while reading it .

Why Dan is telling her ? He is revealing the secrets to her ? That is classified .

the detailing of the mission and then shoot out and Love the detailing including the GEOGRAPHY . I wanted to say this earlier , One thing for sure you knows the world geography and world politics very well , The way you weave the plot with real geographical location with real life inspired events, warlords  and terrorist outfit , adds extra layer of realism to the story and that makes worth the wait . I dont know if future updates have something like Hemant going to IRAN personally dealing with whoever in charge of Strait of Hormuz or Helping them against Yankees , Selling his tech to Iran to shoot the bird in the skies . lol 

And What is with you picking the skinny Bollywood Actress ? PICK some Milfs lol . But dont pick SAMANTHA and Aishwarya RAI . But There is one Bollywood MILF *HEROINE* I think you should use her for GRAND EVENT . 


and For Images , First I wanted to say use more Animated or Anime Style Images for MICHAEL KING , The AI generated Images does not have depth and shot is too wide to show the character , But That PIC of HEMANT , in SNOW with Hatchet was so GOOD . His face cut , jaw line, redness because of snow  , Uniform and that Hatchet with ROPE was I  say PEAK DETAILING . and That eagle flying over the Chopper while Hemant walking    


So many things to say about this update , Will write another comment . 


But what a wonderful update , 11/10 worth the wait . 

I totally enjoyed Hemant's Backstory . Cant wait to read the rest . 

Thanks for the update , Man . 

[RCF]

Sonarika even allowing Vik to touch her right now is insane and blowing my mind after all that countless hours of therapy and calm, matured self discovery. This this episode of resisting should have come earlier, the timing doesn't feel right as its proving what Hemanth's thoughts on double date.

[Harry Jordan]

But what a wonderful update , 11/10 worth the wait . 

Thanks for the update , Man . 

Glad you loved the chapter , I too enjoyed plotting it because I finally found something interesting to do with Sonarika's character.

Now about her incidents in this chapter. The whole reason for her "close encounter" with Vikram was to show that Sonarika is a changed woman now. If you remember the past chapters , Sonarika always gave in to Vikram's advances pretty easily. She had that "easily submissive" trope in the past which was part of her hypersexuality. It was more ellaborated in the "dress" scene where how she reacted to both her men in the past and the change she went through now. In that past, she ignored Hemant's blue dress and accepted Vikram's dress in different situations showing her leaning towards Vikram in the past. But now she realized those mistakes and hence her choosing the blue dress for the concert implied she wasn't succumbing to temptation that easy.


Even the "Almost Make-out" scene between Sonarika and Vikram was to show how much she has brough that change in herself. In the past she never resisted. The only resistance she has ever shown was in Bali and that too happened because Vikram insulted Hemant. She still believes that Hemant is her lightning rod. This was the first instance where she showed resistance , that she finally said no to Vikram. And her conversation with Reshma was her realization that she has changed. This is the beginning of Sonarika reconnecting to her roots and find the "curios" mindset she once had back to her. Another part is that Reshma's relevation of her own marriage not being perfect and doing kinky stuffs with consent shows Sonarika the error in her ways. As for Sonarika still "meeting" Vikram , she understands she failed him as a partner too. And now she is aware of the broader mind games she is being played with by people around her , thanks to Meghna and her overconfidence. Sonarika is changing,  and she is changing for the better. Now Hemant's backstory will eventually be another motivating factor for her in the future. And another instance in her evolving character , is her outlook afterwards. When she almost made out with Vikram , she was disgusted by herself and cursed herself. While even though she was angry at Hemant in the beginning of the chapter because of him keeping his past from her , she doesn't care much and on the contrary still holding onto his memory. Sonarika's biggest fear is being "Alone" , but she is willing to live that fear only for him , because now her mind is more clear and stable. And in a way , once again , it will be Hemant that will play an important role in her transformation. Her arc will be paving the way to transform her from the pawn to the player of the game!


Anjana and Meghna are still to many level the negative characters in this story. With Meghna being the main bad in Sonarika's arc. Anjana is no saint here either. She has an ambition. And that is to have Sonarika and Vikram become a couple and move to Goa. That is her goal , because only if that happens will she be able to rule the entire BAJAJ CORP. For her , Sonarika and Vikram reunion is a necessity she wants to achieve. Which is why she is twisting Ritesh's murder to her advantage and trying to convince Sonarika to move on with Vikram and live their life. The only human part of her is that she doesn't want to hurt Vikram as she still loves him and cares for him as a younger brother. She doesn't care about Sonarika as long as she keeps Vikram away from Bajajcorp.


As for Vikram , he is still that desperate lover trying to win back her woman's heart. But he is doing the same methods he did initially to seduce her but its not seems to be working anymore. He is shrinking his world around her unaware of his sister's manipulation to throw him away from the family business. 

Now , for Katherine , she is very much relevant. She has a connection to a certain "You know who" which will play into our heroine learning the truth.


As for Hemant's backstory,  Sonarika believed Hemant was just a random soldier who seeked voluntary retirement after watching his friend die. It is now she learned he was no "Average" Solider but rather a ruthless commando with insane battle experience. This backstory will be her tying the thread understanding how Hemant built this weapons company with extensive knowledge on hand held weapons. Also to note , Dan's recollection of the flashback will only tell the story of Hemant's Garuda days , he may or may not know about Michael King. And as for the world building , that will only get crazier in the future chapters as next chapter too will predominantly feature Hemant's backstory as there will be a lot of events to unpack.


Now as for my choice of Kriti Sanon as the "Visual Representation" for Kirti Raghuvanshi. I already hinted this is a woman we have already seen in the story before , only she was introduced with a different name , this is her backstory here. This specific woman was introduced as a lean and tall figure with features of an acrobatic and agile fighter. Initially my plan was to use Deepika Padukone as we already have enough material of her in an Air Force Uniform. But I thought it would be too obvious. So it was just my personal choice because I kind of see Kriti in this character's appearance and in some way truly capture the essence of this fighter pilot character in those arts. Plus based on my research , Air Force pilots are meant to lean and fit as they are supposed to endure mach speeds in fighter jets. And our beautiful Kirti is a MiG-27 Jet pilot so she is an elite class!


This backstory is important because this will also pave the way for a change in Sonarika as a person as well because this backstory will change her own outreach in life. She will see things in a new way and find a deeper resolve in finding herself. I also teased her "Revenge" arc. She is only aware about the mind games on her life right now. Imagine her reaction when she learns her baby sister wasn't dead by accident but murder. So , for people concerned with Sonarika's arc , just wait when the "DHURANDHAR" in her awakens after the truth is revealed!! 


More than Hemant , I am actually going to enjoy the future plans I have for her!!!! 

[Harry Jordan]

Sonarika even allowing Vik to touch her right now is insane and blowing my mind after all that countless hours of therapy and calm, matured self discovery. This this episode of resisting should have come earlier, the timing doesn't feel right as its proving what Hemanth's thoughts on double date.

Well , this was needed for the situation as after the talk with Reshma , Sonarika learned to put things together and see that someone is playing with her life. Plus its not easy to recover faster from something that was close to an addiction considering how many times Sonarika gave into Vikram's charms pretty easily in the past. The segment was important to show that she was indeed healing but also its a struggle for her as she is fighting her "addiction". One thing is sure , Vikram is loosing his hold on Sonarika as she is drifting away from her infactuations towards him!

[Green6520]

Wonderful story. A very well-organized story. I feel like the story is moving towards its conclusion. Best wishes.

[RCF]

Well , this was needed for the situation as after the talk with Reshma , Sonarika learned to put things together and see that someone is playing with her life. Plus its not easy to recover faster from something that was close to an addiction considering how many times Sonarika gave into Vikram's charms pretty easily in the past. The segment was important to show that she was indeed healing but also its a struggle for her as she is fighting her "addiction". One thing is sure , Vikram is loosing his hold on Sonarika as she is drifting away from her infactuations towards him!

I agree on the context as without an episode of almost giving up then resisting last minute is needed to show she is evolving, I just felt after all the therapy, alone time with plants, sessions with friends and doctor and self awareness while Hemanth's never ending taunts while she was recovering herself, this seems like a step back not progressing. That's just my opinion. 

~RCF

[Harry Jordan]

I agree on the context as without an episode of almost giving up then resisting last minute is needed to show she is evolving, I just felt after all the therapy, alone time with plants, sessions with friends and doctor and self awareness while Hemanth's never ending taunts while she was recovering herself, this seems like a step back not progressing. That's just my opinion. 

~RCF

Yeah , I get your point. I wanted to do this because she will be getting another boost of motivation after Dan completes a portion of Hemant's backstory which will fuel more resistance and resolve for her. Plus with some other revelations in the horizon , Sonarika will transform into a different person when she learns about certain "Tragedies" in her life and how she must avenge it.

[Demeter]

I share RCF’s concerns and perspective regarding Sonarika, as they sometimes act contrary to her stated intentions and fail to draw a clear line with Vikram. 
At least, that is my impression and RCF’s.

As for Dan and his stories and reports about Hemant, I believe that these are not the points Sonarika wishes to find out. 
She does not want to hear about Hemant’s ‘heroic deeds, leadership qualities and skills’, for with his success at ‘YOB Industries’ he has already proven this and shown everyone what he is capable of building and leading to success.
Rather, she wants to form her own picture or gain clarity, specifically regarding the motivations, the starting point and the circumstances that led ‘Hemant’ to take this path.

She is looking for the “why?”.
Was the reason perhaps a failed relationship?
Or a difficult childhood?
Who recruited him?
Why him, of all people? ... for example...

These are the questions she wants answered, not the results (heroic deeds, operations, etc.) that follow from them. 

-----------
Demeter

[rk1300051]

Hey author
By any chance we getting an update tonight....???

[Parthibajeeva]

I love your story man .. I haven't comment about the story before.. From the very first chapter I am following your story..At first I thought that this an another version of the FACILATOR story.. And then you just changed the story into action based novel there you taken story into another level.. keep it up man..

[Parthibajeeva]

Did you recognize when was your story went to second page?? That's when you lost your frequency in updates.. You were an regular updater weekly once and you surprised us one with two update on one week..I know you have your own personal reasons..
But also please try to come in a week.. I am big fan of Hemant and sona.. Eagerly waiting for their interaction after a long time face to face..