The conversation about the party lingered around the table for a few moments.
Mahi had already begun thinking aloud about invitations, decorations, and the practical details that came with gathering people under one roof.
At first, it sounded like a simple family event.
A way to bring a little life back into a house that had spent the last day holding its breath.
Then Mahim spoke,
"Perhaps it shouldn't just be a party."
Mahi looked toward him, "What do you mean?"
Mahim set down his teacup,
"For 14 years, she was missing."
A pause.
"For 14 years, the world believed the Sunayana family had no daughter.
That is no longer true."
Fahad straightened slightly.
Fahim adjusted his glasses,
"You want a public announcement."
Mahi's expression softened.
"We found her and we've barely told anyone."
Farhan looked toward Maya.
Her pencil continued its soft rhythm.
Scritch... scritch...
Fahan leaned forward, "So this isn't really a party."
"No."
"It is an introduction."
"He's right.The world should know her."
A pause.
"Not as a rumor, not as a secret, not as a missing child."
A faint sadness touched her voice.
"But as our daughter. For years there was an empty place in this family.
Now there isn't."
Mahim rose from his seat, "The decision is made. The world must know her.
She will not remain hidden in shadows."
Mahi nodded, though her eyes lingered elsewhere.
On the staircase.
The decision spread through the mansion quickly.
The house had not seen so much light in years. Every chandelier blazed to life.
Crystal shimmered overhead like suspended stars.
Golden light spilled across ceilings, walls, and polished marble floors.
The vast halls of the Sunayana estate awakened.
Servants moved through corridors carrying armfuls of fresh flowers.
White lilies.
Orchids.
Jasmine.
Their fragrance gradually replaced the scent of polished wood and old silence.
Long tables were measured and remeasured.
Silverware inspected , Linen changed twice.
Then changed again.
Because perfection seemed necessary.
Outside, gardeners worked from dawn until evening.
Stone pathways washed until they gleamed beneath the afternoon sun.
The marble floors reflected silken hems and polished shoes as if the mansion itself had been scrubbed raw to impress the world outside.
Tailors arrived carrying garment cases.
Rich fabrics spilled across tables.
Deep midnight blue.
Gold embroidery that caught light with every movement.
Mahi stood among them, examining each piece carefully,
"Not that one."
She pointed toward a dress.
"Too heavy."
Another was presented.
"Not that either."
"Madam, this is one of our finest designs."
"I know."
"But I'm dressing my daughter."
The tailor immediately lowered his head.
"Of course, Madam."
Nearby, jewel cases opened one after another.
Each piece catching light like captured fragments of the night sky.
Mahi looked at them.
Across the mansion, invitations were being finalized.
She signed the invitations herself.
Elegant cream-colored cards spread across the long mahogany table.
Each bearing the Sunayana seal embossed in gold.
Mahi's hand ached before she finished.
But she refused to stop.
For years she had imagined countless possibilities.
Searches, false leads, Disappointments.
Empty birthdays.
Never this, never the day she would write her daughter's name and know she was real.
Her weary voice carried through countless phone calls, The wording remained careful.
"Mayaboti Sunayana, daughter of Mahim and Mahi Sunayana, has returned to her family after fourteen years.
The Sunayana family will formally present their daughter and would be honored by your presence at the celebration."
The invitations traveled far beyond the estate gates. Across circles where influence carried more weight than wealth.
Private secretaries received them.
Corporate headquarters received them.
Old aristocratic families received them.
Business magnates received them.
And everywhere, the reaction was remarkably similar.
SURPRISE.
Because for years the story had been little more than a whisper. The missing Sunayana daughter.
The empty place in one of the most powerful families in Asia.
Now suddenly— she existed.
In a glass-walled office overlooking a skyline of steel and light, a businessman lowered the invitation and frowned.
"The daughter of Mahim and Mahi Sunayana ?"
His assistant nodded, "The missing one."
" Ohhhhh i see. "
Across another city, an elderly family friend adjusted her glasses and read the invitation three times.
Tears gathered in her eyes,
"Oh, Mahi... They finally found her."
Elsewhere, conversations erupted.
"I thought the child was gone forever."
"So did everyone else."
"Will she attend in person?"
"Of course she will."
The news spread quickly.
Within days, the entire social circle surrounding the Sunayana family knew.
A daughter had returned.
And curiosity began to grow.
Who was she?
What kind of person had emerged after fourteen years away?
Did she resemble her mother?
Her father?
Her brothers?
Questions multiplied.
Only one image accompanied the invitations.
The Sunayana crest.
The mystery only deepened.
Inside the mansion, however, none of that mattered.
The preparations had consumed the mansion for days.
Designers came and went.
Fabric samples appeared on every available surface.
Jewelry cases were opened, debated, and closed again.
And eventually—
all roads led to Maya.
"No," Maya answered immediately.
Mahi ignored her, "Maya."
"No."
Fahan looked between them,
"They've been doing this for ten minutes."
"Fifteen," Fahim corrected.
Mahi pointed firmly toward a chair,
"Sit."
Maya stared at the chair, then at her mother.
Then at the growing pile of dresses surrounding the room.
"...This feels like a trap."
"It is," Fahad replied helpfully.
Mahi shot him a look, "What?"
Eventually, despite her clear lack of enthusiasm, she found herself seated in the middle of the room.
Surrounded.
More dresses than she thought any human being could possibly need.
Maya looked at the mountain of clothing,
"Why?"
"Because you need something to wear."
"I already own clothes."
"Not for this."
"They cover my body."
Fahan nodded, "Technically, she's correct."
"No one asked you, " Mahi replied.
Finally Mahi folded her arms, "Choose."
Maya looked at the dresses, "Then choose for me."
Faha quietly stepped forward.
He simply moved toward one of the racks.
Brows narrowing thoughtfully.
After a few moments, he pulled out a dress.
BLACK.
The fabric flowed like liquid midnight.
The high collar gave it a refined, timeless appearance.
Subtle silver embroidery traced the edges like moonlight against darkness.
Faha held it up, "This one."
"Fine, " she disappeared to change.
Minutes passed.
Then the door opened.
And she stepped back into the room.
Silence.
Nobody moved, nobody even seemed to remember how.
The black dress fit perfectly.
The high collar framed her neck elegantly.
The dark fabric contrasted against her pale skin, making her seem almost unreal beneath the room's golden light.
Her long dark hair fell neatly around her shoulders.
The familiar silver pin remained in place.
Her gloves remained on her hands.
Yet somehow the things that usually made her appear distant now only enhanced her presence.
Mahi's breath caught. For a moment she forgot to blink.
Fahad stared, "...Oh."
Fahan looked genuinely stunned,
"...That's unfair."
"What?"
"How is a person allowed to look like that?"
Even Fahim removed his glasses briefly.
As if cleaning them might somehow change what he was seeing,
"Remarkable."
Ohi simply blinked, "No."
"What do you mean no?"
"I refuse to believe that's the same person."
"It is."
"Impossible."
Farhan shook his head slowly,
"She looks like she walked out of a painting."
Across the room, Mahi's eyes had begun to shine.
She could finally see the daughter she had dreamed of for fourteen long years.
Nahi pointed, "I knew she was pretty.
But, I was not prepared for this."
Ohi nodded immediately,
"Neither was the rest of humanity."
Maya looked around at everyone's expressions, "...Why is everyone staring?"
Fahan covered his face.
Finally, Farhan spoke, "Sis."
"Yes?"
"...You look amazing."
The compliments continued for several moments.
Nahi looked as though he was preparing another dramatic speech.
Mahi could barely stop looking at her daughter.
Meanwhile, Maya stood in the center of the room with complete indifference.
As though none of this concerned her.
She glanced down at the dress,
"What color is it?"
Fahish looked up from where he was standing, "The dress?"
"Yes."
"It's black. Why?"
A pause.
"Can't you tell?"
Maya's expression didn't change,
"No."
The answer was so casual that nobody immediately understood it.
Maya adjusted one of her gloves,
"I'm color-blind."
Silence.
Fahad blinked, "...You're what?"
"Color-blind."
Farhan stared at her, "You... can't see colors?"
"I can see some differences in brightness and shade.
I usually identify them from labels or memory."
Fahan looked genuinely horrified, "Wait.
You didn't know it was black?"
"No."
"You just agreed to wear it?"
"Mr. Faha liked it."
Faha immediately froze.
Everyone slowly turned toward him.
"...Ohhhhhhh ."
"You've been choosing clothes based on labels? "
"Usually."
"It works?"
"It has worked so far."
Mahi sat down slowly, "Since when?"
"Always."
Fahim's expression changed immediately.
The physician in him awakening.
"Complete color blindness?"
"Yes. "
"Why didn't you tell us?"
"I didn't think it mattered."
Farhan lowered his eyes.
Fahad rubbed a hand across his face.
Fahan sighed heavily.
And Mahi felt her heart ache once more.
While Maya stood there in the black dress, silver pin resting in her hair, black gloves covering her scars—
looking confused about why everyone suddenly seemed shocked again.
The silence lingered for a few moments after her revelation.
Because everyone was still processing the fact that she had casually informed them she was color-blind as though she were discussing tea.
Mahi managed a small smile though her eyes remained suspiciously bright.
"Maya."
"Yes?"
"Please wear that dress this afternoon."
"Okay."
Farhan blinked, "...That was easy."
Maya looked at them,
"What exactly are you expecting me to do?"
"Nothing."
Then, She turned and headed back upstairs.
A few minutes later, she returned to her room.
The door clicked softly shut behind her.
The elaborate dress was carefully removed.
Folded neatly. Placed where it would not wrinkle.
Then she changed back into her usual clothes.
Order restored.
Sunlight spilled across the floorboards.
A gentle morning stirred the curtains.
She crossed the room and sat beside the window. Her sketchbook rested on her lap.
A pencil found its place between her fingers,
scrach... scrach...scrach.
The world downstairs continued its preparations. Voices echoed faintly through distant hallways.
Flowers were arranged.
None of it reached her completely.
[EVENING ]
The Sunayana mansion transformed.
Light spilled from every window, turning the estate into a beacon against the darkening sky.
The gardens glowed beneath thousands of hanging lights.
Music drifted softly through the air.
Servants moved with practiced precision, carrying trays of refreshments through the growing crowd.
The air smelled of tuberoses.
Of polished wood.
Of faint incense carefully chosen to add elegance without overwhelming the guests.
Luxury surrounded everything.
Yet beneath the beauty lingered something else.Because no guest had arrived with quiet intentions.
They came with sharpened curiosity.
They came carrying years of rumors.
They came to see the girl who had vanished fourteen years ago.
The missing daughter, the forgotten heir.
The mystery that had lingered around the Sunayana family for over a decade.
The hall filled quickly. Old family friends.
Business rivals disguised as well-wishers.
Champagne glasses clinked.Polite smiles were exchanged.Greetings floated through the room.
But beneath every conversation lay the same subject.
Whispers began before the first 10 minutes had passed.
"Fourteen years... and they never spoke of her."
"I heard she was kidnapped."
"No... Someone told me she was given away."
"Impossible."
"Then where was she all this time?"
"I heard she lived overseas."
"I heard she was raised in secrecy."
"Does anyone actually know?"
"No."
Across the room, a minister's wife adjusted her pearls,
"They say she's beautiful."
"I came to see whether the legend was true."
The whispers continued. Flowing through the crowd like an invisible current.
At the far end of the hall, Mahim stood beside Mahi. Both dressed impeccably.
"You nervous?"
A small smile touched her lips.
"Terrified."
Across the room, the brothers stood together.
Fahad scanned the crowd.
Already identifying who was genuinely supportive and who had come merely to satisfy curiosity.
Farhan kept glancing toward the staircase.
Fahan folded his arms,
"They're staring at the stairs like a royal announcement is about to happen."
Nahi smirked, "In a way, it is."
The music softened.
Servants moved like shadows, replenishing drinks, lowering trays, ignoring the words that sliced through the air.
Musicians sat near the staircase, their sitar strings sighing through the noise, but even the music sounded wary.
One by one, guests began turning toward the staircase.
She appeared, walked into the hall without warning, without ceremony.
A black figure in a room of color.
Her dress was plain—black silk that clung without ornament, without embroidery.
No jewelry.
No powder on her skin. Only her gloves—black as midnight—covering every finger .
She looked like neither child nor woman.
Neither guest nor host.
The conversations broke off.
The whispers returned,
"Who is she ??? "
"She doesn't smile."
"She looks dangerously gorgeous".
"She's beautiful—too beautiful."
Maya heard every word. Each syllable slipped into her ears like pins piercing paper.
The ceremony pressed on, though the air was already growing heavy with whispers.
She didn't belong to the glimmering world around her, and she made no attempt to.
She belong to darkness.
She leaned against the carved pillar by the glass doors leading out to the garden.
Half her face caught the gold glow of the chandelier, the other half lay in shadow.
Her black dress looked too sharp, too severe, against the pastel silks and embroidered panjabis of the crowd.
Every movement of hers felt deliberate—
She carried a small notebook, bound in black leather. Even here, among all this glitter and chatter, she opened it now and then.
A pencil scratched lightly, filling the silence between breaths.
She didn't hide it, didn't care who saw.
While the hall swelled with conversation and expectation, there was one corner untouched by the excitement.
A quiet alcove near a tall window.
Scratch....Scratch.
The pencil moved steadily.
Some guests noticed.
At first, they merely watched from afar.
Then curiosity overcame caution.
A minister's wife eventually approached.
The sort of woman who could navigate political banquets and social scandals with equal grace.
"My dear, What are you writing?"
Her gaze drifted toward the sketchbook,
"Something about this evening?"
Maya lifted her eyes. Then she nodded once.
Turned a page.
The pencil returned to the paper,
Scratch...Scratch.
Around them, guests continued talking.
"Well...That's lovely."
Maya nodded once more.
The woman retreated back among the guests.
Several people immediately turned toward her.
"Well?"
The woman laughed awkwardly,
"She doesn't talk much."
"Was she rude?"
"No."
"Who is she?
Did you ask her? "
"No. "
A few nearby guests chuckled nervously,
"She doesn't seem interested in any of this."
"No."
"I see. "
A professor—gray-haired, spectacles trembling on his nose—ventured closer.
"You're… Maya, aren't you?
The youngest?"
"Yes. "
"I hear you study at St. Helena's?
Such a rare institution for someone so young. May I ask— what subject fascinates you most?"
" Forensic Pathology. "
The professors smile faltered.He adjusted his glasses.
He coughed, muttered something about,
"Youth these days."
And shuffled off.
The whispers did not stop.If anything, they grew bolder.
Near one of the marble columns, a small group of young women stood together.
Dressed in expensive gowns and perfectly unaware of how loud they were becoming.
"Who is she? "
"I never saw her in any party . "
"She is quiet."
"Quiet?"
Another scoffed.
"She acts as though she doesn't care about anything."
A third girl laughed softly behind her hand,
"She's pretending."
Several heads turned.
The girl folded her arms,
"Honestly, she probably does it for attention."
"Exactly."
"If someone ignores everyone long enough, people start treating them like they're mysterious."
"Maybe that's the point."
"Maybe she enjoys everyone staring at her."
One girl tilted her head,
"Look at her. She hasn't smiled once, She hasn't talked to anyone.
She acts like she's above everyone."
Another smirked.
"Or maybe she doesn't know how to behave around people."
"Convenient."
"Very convenient."
Meanwhile—
She heard every word.
The hall carried sound remarkably well.
She gave no sign of it . Her pencil continued moving.
Across the room, however, others noticed.
Farhan's expression darkened first.
Fahad's jaw tightened.
Fahan looked moments away from walking across the hall.
Even Nahi stopped joking.
Maya turned a page. Yet somehow it drew attention.
Her pencil touched the fresh sheet.
Then she resumed drawing.
As though they were too insignificant to leave a mark.
Then—
Mahim moved.
He stepped forward into the center of the hall, the soft murmur of voices bending around him, reshaping into silence as his presence settled.
A single lift of his hand And the musicians fell quiet,
"Ladies and gentlemen,Good evening
Thank you for coming tonight."
Mahim extended a hand toward her,
"Maya."
For a brief second, she remained where she was.
Then—
She closed the sketchbook.The soft sound seemed louder than it should have.
She rose and then moved.
The sound of her heels against the marble floor echoed clearly through the hall.
Click.... Click... Click.
Every conversation died, every gaze followed.
All eyes turned toward her.
Finally, she reached Mahim's side.
Mahim glanced at her once,
"This...This is my daughter.
Maya Sunayana."
A ripple passed through the room.
"Sunayana...?"
"So the rumors were true."
"She's real."
"After all these years..."
"Fourteen years ago, circumstances separated our daughter from this family.
Today, she stands where she always belonged as a member of the Sunayana family."
Beside him, Maya stood motionless.
Neither proud nor embarrassed.
Neither smiling nor afraid.
That composure unsettled many of the guests. Because they had expected something else.
A carefully rehearsed speech.
—
Among the crowd, the same arrogant young woman from earlier stood frozen.
Her confidence had been steadily evaporating.
She swallowed nervously,
"That's her?"
A pause.
"I think... I messed up."
The friend beside her immediately nodded,
"You're done for."
Another raised a hand dramatically,
"We will pray for you."
A third placed a hand over her heart,
"Rest in peace."
The first friend looked completely serious,
"I'm not joking."
Neither am I."
The arrogant girl stared, "...You're all enjoying this."
A third friend folded her arms,
"No."
"Then why do all of you look happy?"
"Because it isn't happening to us."
"Traitors."
"We're being realistic."
One of them leaned closer and lowered her voice,
"I'm currently considering going home and asking my father to put an end every business relationship we have with your family."
Another nodded solemnly.
"Same."
A third added,
"If necessary, I'll remind him twice."
The girl blinked, "What does that have to do with me?"
All three stared at her.
Then spoke almost simultaneously,
"Everything."
The realization seemed to hit her all over again.
Earlier, she had openly mocked the newly returned daughter of one of the most influential families in the country.
In a room full of witnesses.
"We are surviving."
"Unlike you."
The girl shot them an angry look.
The friends immediately took a step back,
"See?"
"She's angry."
"That's the expression that got us into this situation."
The young woman folded her arms tightly,
"I didn't know who she was."
"That isn't helping your defense."
Another nodded.
"You insulted someone for no reason."
The girl glared at all of them.
Because her dramatic collapse from confidence to panic was unfolding in real time.
—
A ripple passed through the crowd.
"So, they really found her…"
Mahim turned his head slightly toward her,
"From this day forward,she stands
in this family."
She nodded. Once.
—
"That's it?" someone muttered.
"She didn't even greet us…"
"How… strange…"
Mahi's face faltered.
Fahad exhaled sharply, "Unbelievable."
Fahan muttered,
" Holy shit.... she just dismissed an entire room."
—
"My daughter,has spent many years away from us. She is not obligated to meet expectations formed in her absence."
A relative scoffed softly,
"Not obligated?
She's in society now. She will have to learn."
Mahim finished his speech ,
"Tonight is a beginning . Enjoy the party. "
The ceremony continued— voices rose again,
"She's even prettier up close."
"She looks exactly like Mahi."
"No."
"Those eyes are Mahim's."
"Did you notice how she stood during the speech?"
"Not a hint of fear."
"Or emotion."
Nearby, a wealthy businessman blinked,
"Is she... drawing?"
"At her own presentation ceremony?"
"Apparently."
His wife watched her for a moment,
"I think that's the first genuine thing I've seen all evening."
Elsewhere, the young women who had mocked her earlier fell noticeably quieter.
Not because they suddenly liked her.
But because insulting the newly acknowledged daughter of the Sunayana family had become significantly less comfortable.
Maya listened to none of it or perhaps she heard all of it and simply chose not to react.
Near the refreshments table, Fahad exhaled,
"Well."
Fahan picked up a drink,
"That went better than expected."
The celebration had finally begun to settle into a comfortable rhythm.
Conversations flowed.
Then—
The far doors burst open.
The sound echoed through the ballroom.
Conversations stopped mid-sentence.
Heads turned and the atmosphere changed.
Instantly.
A man stepped inside. His shirt was half-unbuttoned.
The collar was creased and stained from travel and looked as though it had survived a battle.
His sleeves were rolled roughly to his elbows.
His dark hair hung uncombed, as though he had run his hands through it a hundred times and never once bothered with a mirror.
But his eyes… his eyes looked ancient, hollowed as if time had punished him beyond his years.
He looked exhausted.
Disheveled.
And that alone would have been enough to draw attention.
But the problem was everyone knew who he was.
There reaction was immediate.
One businessman nearly dropped his glass.
Even people who had never met him personally recognized him at once.
Because everyone knew the stories.
Or at least the parts that could be told publicly.
A legendary hacker.
A man who treated digital security the way most people treated paper doors.
Entire corporations feared him.
Government agencies monitored him.
Powerful people avoided becoming his enemy.
Not because of violence.
Because he had a reputation far worse.
If someone crossed him—
Their secrets disappeared.
Their carefully protected information suddenly belonged to everyone.
And the terrifying part?
He never seemed concerned about consequences.
Whether the conflict involved a billionaire, a multinational corporation, or an entire nation
he behaved exactly the same way.
As though power meant nothing to him.
As though consequences were someone else's problem.
The stories surrounding him had become almost mythical.
A figure of immense influence.
A man whose appearance was usually immaculate.
The sort of person whose public image was managed down to the smallest detail.
Yet tonight—
he looked as though he had walked straight through a storm.He looked completely out of place among the elegance.
Yet somehow—
he was the most dangerous person in the room.
❝ RAHI MIRZA . ❞
A ripple moved through the crowd,
"What happened to him?"
"Is that really—?"
"It is."
"He came looking like that?"
"I've never seen him dressed this poorly."
"No, not poorly."
An older businessman frowned,
"Desperately."
The distinction unsettled several people.
Even Mahim looked surprised.
A rare sight.
Because Rahi wasn't known for social appearances. He wasn't known for formal ceremonies.
He certainly wasn't known for arriving anywhere looking presentable.
And Maya —
Her head lifted before anyone else's.
Her eyes locked on the figure.
The noise of the party had long since faded into the background.
The glass slipped from her fingers.
It struck the marble floor.
CRASH.
Shards scattered across the polished stone.
Water spread across the floor like liquid silver.
Farhan straightened immediately.
Fahim's eyes narrowed.
Fahad looked from Maya to Rahi and back again,
"What just happened?"
No one answered.
Because at that exact moment—
the man finally saw her, his posture stiffened.
Just enough for people to notice.
For the first time since entering the hall, he looked genuinely caught off guard.
"Subject… 17B?"
The words cut the air like a knife.
" Wait, what???? "
"Subject? What did he say?"
"What does that mean?"
Then she spoke, her voice calm.
"I think you're mistaking me for someone else."
Several guests visibly relaxed.
The explanation sounded reasonable.
Rahi didn't . A faint smile touched his face,
"I recognized the right person.
There is no doubt."
Maya's expression remained unchanged,
"You're mistaken."
"No. I recognized exactly the right person."
His gaze sharpened,
"Isn't that right, 17B?"
Maya folded her arms, there was a hint of challenge in her voice.
"Do you have any proof?"
Then he laughed softly,
"Proof?
That's an interesting question."
He stared at Maya for a long moment.
Then—
Without warning he reached into his pocket.
A pen snapped into his fingers.
He flicked his wrist.
A pen flashed through the air.
Gasps echoed across the ballroom.
The movement had been so sudden that most people didn't even realize what had happened.
The pen shot toward her vary fast.
But before anyone could react—
Maya's hand moved.
Snap.
She caught it cleanly between her fingers.
The hall froze.
A few nearby guests blinked, "...What?"
Because what they had just seen didn't belong in any normal understanding of reflex.
Rahi's expression didn't change.
Another pen appeared in his hand.
Then another.
And another.
And another.
The pens blurred through the air one after another.
Snap.
Snap.
Snap.
Snap.
Every single one stopped in her hands.
As though her body had already calculated the trajectory before the objects had even reached her.
Maya herself seemed almost annoyed.
As though someone had interrupted her drawing.
The crowd watched in stunned silence.
One of the pens had moved so quickly that several guests hadn't even seen it leave Rahi's hand.
They only saw it appear in Maya's grasp.
Fahad had gone silent.
Farhan stared, "Holy cow. "
Fahan's eyes widened, "What the hell? "
Fahim's medical training offered no immediate explanation.
Meanwhile, Rahi simply folded his arms,
"Need any more proof?"
His voice carried through the silent hall.
"My attacks can only be stopped by Subject 17B, without hesitation."
His gaze remained fixed on her,
"Because she is far stronger than I am.
My throwing speed is beyond human reaction thresholds."
He lifted one hand slightly,
"Even a trained marksman wouldn't be able to intercept it."
A faint smile—cold touched his lips,
"Not even systems designed for interception can consistently track them.
No human should be able to process it in real time."
"Only one person I've ever tested could do that.
Without error, without delay."
His eyes locked onto Maya again,
"So tell me, How did you handle it?"
Maya's grip on the last pen loosened.
She placed it carefully on the table beside her, as though it had never been a weapon in the first place.
"You're assuming too much.
And If you're so certain...Then why ask me?"
Finally, he said quietly,
"Because if I'm right...Then you shouldn't be here."
A silence settled so deep it felt almost physical.
"Neither should you."
A pause.
"Am I wrong, Subject 13A?"
The moment the designation left her lips, the entire ballroom shifted.
Recognition of a truth they were never meant to hear.
"Subject… 13A?"
"Did she just call him that?"
"Is that a code name?"
Even the Sunayana family froze again.
Rahi didn't move.
For the first time, his confident posture cracked slightly— not in fear, but in attention sharpened to its peak.
"So you remember that name."
A ripple of tension passed through the hall.
Fahim's eyes narrowed. He was already trying to fit the pieces together.
Maya's lips curved. It was small.
A smile that didn't belong in a celebration.
A chill passed through the crowd.
Several guests instinctively took a step back.
The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
Fahad whispered under his breath,
"That smile… what is that?"
Farhan didn't answer.
Rahi stared at her for a few seconds.
Then a slow grin appeared on his own face.
"So, You've stopped pretending."
His voice carried amusement,
"You're a very good actress, 17B."
Maya shrugged, "Hmm."
"You haven't changed."
"Neither have you."
She looked him up and down,
"You've grown up."
Rahi smirked, "So have you."
"Your throwing technique has gotten worse."