DDS Music Industry – Executive Floor
Maira exited Mihir's cabin briskly, her face twisted in an awkward grimace. "Ugh... really?" she muttered to herself, wiping imaginary dust from her sleeves as though trying to shake off the mental image.
"Couldn't they... I don't know—get a hotel room or something?" She shivered. "Gross."
She turned down the hallway, needing air—when something caught her eye.
Just by the polished baseboard of the corridor lay a small silver hair clasp, elegant yet oddly shaped, half-concealed under the curve of the wall. It shimmered unnaturally in the fluorescent lighting.
She bent to pick it up—but before she could—
"Ahh!"
A soft cry escaped from just beside her.
Pushkar had stepped directly on the clasp, the pin piercing through his thin loafers and nicking the skin of his heel.
"Hey—are you okay?" Maira rushed to his side.
Pushkar winced, wobbling slightly. "It's nothing. Just a sharp pin. But ouch... that thing is vicious."
"Sit here," she guided him to the edge of a low bench beside a potted ficus. "Let me take a look—hold still."
She carefully removed the pin and handed it back. "You'll need to disinfect that. It's not clean."
Pushkar nodded, grateful. "Thanks, Maira. I'll get something from the first-aid cabinet."
As he limped off, Maira turned back to the clasp still in her hand—its cool metal now burning hot against her skin.
Wait...
She squinted.
The thin layer of Pushkar's blood on the pinhead had begun to boil. Bubble. Fizz.
Literally.
Her pulse jumped.
"No way..." she whispered.
She looked around, then slipped quickly into an unused break room down the corridor—closing the glass door behind her. Setting the hair clasp on a silver tray on the counter, she watched in stunned silence.
Black smoke unfurled from the metal—slow and heavy like cursed breath. The clasp pulsed faintly, as though reacting to life itself.
And then her memory clicked.
> "An object once worn by a daayan carries the memory of her spirit. When it draws human blood, it reacts. Boils. Awakens."
A passage from the Reeva scrolls. Burned into her training.
Her stomach twisted.
This clip... doesn't belong to me. And it doesn't belong here.
Which means—
Someone inside DDS is a daayan.
And she had a sinking feeling who.
Without waiting another second, Maira bolted down the corridor, panic rising. She had to check on Mihir. What if he was the target?
She shoved his cabin door open again—unannounced.
And froze.
Mihir—shirtless—was atop Urvi, caught mid-motion, entangled in a very unmissable scene.
Urvi's eyes went wide. Mihir jerked around, his body taut with sudden fury.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" he barked.
Maira's voice caught. "I—I thought you were—"
"I said GET OUT!" Mihir thundered, face darkening. "This is not your house, Maira! You don't get to barge in whenever you feel like it!"
"I wasn't trying to—"
"You think you can stalk me now? Spy on me? Decide who I should be with and when?" He stormed toward her, grabbing his shirt. "You're out of line."
Urvi said nothing—just leaned back with a smug, quiet smirk that twisted Maira's stomach further.
Mihir jabbed a finger toward the door. "Out. Now."
Eyes stinging, heart hammering, Maira turned and left without a word.
But her fingers curled tightly around the tissue-wrapped clasp in her pocket.
She didn't know what Urvi was playing at.
But she knew one thing for sure—
That hair clip belonged to a daayan.
And someone here was targeting Mihir.
DDS Music Industry – Mihir's Cabin
The door had barely closed behind Maira when silence returned to the sleek, glass-lined cabin.
Mihir sighed, frustrated, still half-buttoned as he paced toward the couch where Urvi reclined, her long legs tucked lazily beneath her. She gave him a look that was equal parts amused and inviting.
He raked his fingers through his hair. "She's unbelievable. No sense of boundaries."
Urvi tilted her head. "Then maybe stop letting her get to you."
"She barged in. Twice. During office hours," he snapped, then caught his reflection in the dark window and muttered, "Forget it. She's not worth the energy."
Urvi leaned forward, the blanket slipping slightly down one shoulder. "Then stop giving it."
He turned, eyeing her.
"I mean it," she said, softening her tone. "You and I—we don't owe anyone an explanation. Especially not someone who can't mind her business."
Mihir let out a breath. "Right."
She stood, bare feet on the cool floor as she crossed the distance between them. "Now... about tonight."
His brow quirked.
Urvi grinned. "My farmhouse party. It's happening. Tonight. Music, drinks, stupid games, even a bonfire."
"I don't do stupid games," he said dryly.
"You won't have to." She stepped closer, lips brushing his cheek. "While they're busy playing truth or dare, we'll be upstairs—alone."
Mihir's mouth curved into a slow smirk. "That's more like it."
Urvi slid her hand into his. "Pick me up at 7."
"You sure about this?"
"I'm never not sure, Mihir."
He nodded, the tension from earlier slowly melting away. "I'll be there."
They sealed it with a soft kiss—one laced with anticipation rather than affection.
But just outside the glass walls, the sky was already beginning to darken.
And tonight... was a no moon night.
DDS Music Industry – Mihir's Cabin, Late Afternoon
The door clicked open after two soft knocks.
For once.
Mihir barely glanced up from his laptop as Maira stepped in, holding her notepad with a cautious firmness.
"Well," he drawled, "miracles do happen. You knocked."
Maira lifted her chin, feigning indifference. "I thought I'd surprise you."
"Next time, surprise me by quitting."
She ignored that, walking to his desk. "I came to run through your schedule—"
"No need," Mihir interrupted, snapping the laptop shut and pushing back from his chair. "I won't be needing anything from the office tonight."
Maira blinked. "What?"
"I've got a party to attend," he said, grabbing his phone and tossing it into his blazer pocket. "At Urvi's farmhouse."
Maira's brow furrowed. "Tonight? But you have an internal meeting penciled in at 8—"
"Cancel it."
She hesitated, clearly uneasy. "You're going alone?"
He raised a brow. "Is that concern in your voice, Sharma?"
She took a step closer, folding her arms. "Let me come with you."
The air shifted slightly.
Mihir gave her a long, unreadable look. "Why?"
"To keep an eye on you."
That made him scoff. "You're unbelievable."
"I'm your PA," she replied evenly. "I'm supposed to know where you are. And judging by your track record, a party like this is the perfect opportunity for you to try and get back at me."
He tilted his head slightly, intrigued. "Tempting. I hadn't considered it... but now that you mention it..."
Maira narrowed her eyes. "Exactly. I'm giving you the chance to do it in front of a crowd. That way you can enjoy whatever revenge fantasy you've been brewing since this morning."
Mihir stared at her, almost amused now. "You're either brave... or painfully foolish."
"Pick one," she shrugged. "But I'm coming."
He crossed his arms, gaze darkening with thought. "You'd be entering my space. My world. These people aren't interns in cardigans, Sharma. They won't hold back."
"Neither will I," she replied, lips set in a calm line.
He studied her for a long moment, jaw flexing.
Then, finally, he muttered, "Fine. But you stick to me. No wandering. No questions. And don't get in my way."
Maira smiled, victorious but measured. "Understood, sir."
As she turned to leave, Mihir called after her, "And Sharma—"
She looked back.
"If you embarrass me tonight, even once... I won't wait for the next party to return the favor."
Maira nodded, voice steady. "I'll behave."
But as she closed the door behind her, a flicker of concern touched her eyes.
Tonight wasn't just about ego or rivalry.
Tonight was a no-moon night.
And something told her... Mihir Kashyap was walking straight into the heart of danger.