Swayam's POV
Her hand was still in mine.
We walked side by side down the quiet street, the night slowly settling in, stars peeking out from the fading glow of the sun. Every step felt strange. I wasn't used to this. To touch. To warmth. To someone holding onto me like I mattered.
I should've pulled away long ago. But I didn't.
I couldn't.
Siya kept humming some soft tune, her ponytail swaying with her steps. Like this was the most natural thing in the world. Like dragging a man of shadows into her light didn't take effort.
When her house finally appeared at the corner, lit warmly from inside, my chest tightened. That word again. Family. I wasn't sure if I belonged here.
But before I could stop myself, I was already stepping through the gate with her.
The door opened. Her mom appeared first, her eyes brightening instantly when she saw us. Then her dad, wiping his hands on a towel, joining her in the doorway.
Their smiles faltered—noticing, no doubt, the way Siya's hand was clasped with mine.
Siya, oblivious, just beamed. "We're back!" she announced, tugging me forward like a kid showing off a prize.
Her mom's gaze softened immediately. Not judgmental. Not sharp. Just… warm. "Welcome home, Swayam."
Something inside me froze at those words. Home.
Her dad stepped aside, motioning us in. "Dinner's almost ready. Come, sit."
I should've refused. I should've stepped back, reminded myself this wasn't my place. But Siya squeezed my hand lightly, grounding me. And somehow, my feet carried me inside.
We sat around the table, the four of us. Plates clattered, laughter flowed—most of it Siya's, filling the room like sunlight. I barely spoke, just nodded when spoken to. But still, I felt something I hadn't felt in years.
Warmth.
Not the heat of a battlefield. Not the sting of fire. But warmth that seeped into my chest, threatening to undo me.
At one point, her mom leaned across the table, placing an extra piece of bread on my plate. "Eat more, beta," she said gently. "You're too thin."
Beta. Son.
The word hit harder than any bullet I'd ever taken.
I looked down, silent, my throat tight. For the first time in so long, I didn't know if I was holding myself together—or falling apart.
Dinner ended with laughter I hadn't known I could be a part of. I even caught myself smiling once or twice—real smiles, not the practiced ones I wore on missions.
When I finally stood to leave, Siya's dad shook his head firmly. "No, son. It's too late. Stay here tonight. The guest room is ready."
Her mom chimed in, "Yes, beta. This house is yours too now."
I opened my mouth to protest, but Siya's hopeful eyes left me defenseless. So I nodded, quietly.
The guest room was simple but warm, the bed softer than any cot I'd slept on in years. For a while, I lay there staring at the ceiling, listening to the faint sounds of the house settling into silence. For the first time in a long time, I felt… safe.
But sometime past midnight, thirst pulled me awake. Quietly, I slipped out, padding toward the kitchen for water.
That's when I noticed a shadow moving near the front door.
Frowning, I froze. The latch clicked softly, and the door creaked open just enough for a slim figure to slip outside. Siya.
My brows knitted together. What is she doing?
I set the glass down and followed, careful, silent. Stepping out onto the porch, I caught sight of her a little distance away, near the edge of the street.
And then I saw him.
A man. Standing in the dark, waiting. Siya approached him like she knew him, her voice low, too far for me to hear.
Something twisted in my stomach—an emotion I couldn't name. Suspicion. Unease. A strange, sharp sting that wasn't anger, wasn't fear… but something dangerously close to both.
Why would she sneak out like this? At this hour? To meet him?
My hand curled into a fist at my side, chest tight with questions I wasn't ready for.
The night air suddenly felt heavier. Colder.
And as I stood there in the shadows, watching, I realized—the warmth of belonging I'd felt just hours ago was slipping, replaced by a knot of doubt I couldn't ignore.
…She approached the man like she knew him, her voice low, words carried away by the night breeze.
That twisting in my stomach tightened into something sharper. Suspicion. Unease. Something I didn't want to name.
Her laughter—soft, secret—drifted through the dark, and I froze.
Who was he? Why was she meeting him here? At this hour?
The man shifted, stepping just enough into the dim light for me to catch a glimpse of his face—
And my blood ran cold.
The night stretched on long after Siya slipped back into the house. She tiptoed into her room, her face calm, unaware of the watchful eyes that had followed her every move. Upstairs, she drifted into sleep easily, her breaths steady, while in the guest room across the hall, Swayam lay awake—his mind a storm.
Every detail of the shadowed meeting replayed in his head. Her voice, her smile, the way she had stood so close to the stranger in the dark. Questions burned like fire, but no answers came. He clenched his fists beneath the blanket, staring into the ceiling. The warmth of the home he had felt just hours before was gone, replaced by a hollow ache in his chest.
By morning, Siya woke late, the sun already high. She rubbed her eyes, dressed quickly, and hurried to the dining room. There, she found Swayam seated at the table, quietly eating breakfast. For a moment, her heart lightened—until she noticed the distance in his eyes.
"Good morning," she said cheerfully, sliding into the chair beside him.
He barely glanced at her, only nodding, his expression unreadable. She waited for a word, a smile, anything. But all she received was silence.
Confused, she frowned. "What happened? Did I… do something?"
He set his spoon down, his voice flat. "I have some work. I'll be leaving."
Before she could question him, he pushed back his chair and rose. Siya quickly followed, calling after him as he walked toward the door. "Swayam, wait! Why are you ignoring me?"
But he didn't turn. Didn't slow. "I told you, I have work," he said, his tone clipped, and then he stepped out into the daylight, leaving her standing in the doorway.
Her voice chased him down the street, but he didn't stop. Not once.
Every step away from her tightened the weight in his chest. Sadness. Hurt. A sting of betrayal he couldn't explain. He didn't know what to believe anymore—only that something between them had cracked.
When he finally returned to the base, his team was already waiting. But instead of the familiar face of their superior, they found the place silent, running on orders alone. One of his men stepped forward, explaining that Agent 01 had not visited the base even once since the shift to this new location. Yet somehow, the next mission had already been planned, tasks assigned down to the last detail.
It wasn't just another mission. It was dangerous—digging into underground networks, facing a ruthless gang leader directly. And this time, Agent 01 herself had declared she would take the lead.
Swayam's jaw tightened. He had never liked her—not her arrogance, not her rivalry, not her authority. And now, hearing she hadn't even appeared at the base she demanded they move into only deepened his distaste.
With Siya's shadowed meeting gnawing at his thoughts and Agent 01's absence raising more questions, the storm inside him only grew darker.
Something wasn't right.
And for the first time in a long time, Swayam realized he no longer knew who to trust.
The air inside the base was heavy, thick with unease. Maps and files covered the briefing table, red markers circling names, locations, and coded entries. The underground network they were targeting was unlike any they had faced before—layered, invisible, and dangerous.
Agent 01 entered last with her mask on, her heels clicking against the floor. Her presence filled the room instantly. Calm, sharp, commanding. "You all know why we're here," she said, her eyes sweeping across her team. "This network has been untouchable for years. Tonight, that changes."
The agents nodded, silent and focused.
Swayam stood at the edge, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. On the surface, he looked ready as always, but inside, questions pulled him apart. Siya's midnight meeting. Agent 01's absence from the base. Too many shadows, too many secrets.
Agent 01 began assigning tasks, her voice precise, almost surgical. "Team Alpha will infiltrate the warehouse. Beta secures the perimeter. Gamma—" her gaze landed on Swayam "—you're with me."
A muscle in his jaw tightened. He had hoped to avoid this, but she had decided otherwise.
By dusk, the team was in motion. Black vans cut through the city streets, headlights off, blending into the darkness. Weapons were checked, comms tested. Every detail had to be flawless—because one mistake could mean death.
The target: an abandoned textile mill on the outskirts, now a hub for the underground syndicate. From the outside, it looked deserted, crumbling walls and shattered windows. But their intel confirmed otherwise. Beneath the ruins, a labyrinth of tunnels ran deep, holding secrets worth killing for.
As the agents dispersed to their positions, Swayam and Agent 01 moved toward the south entrance, their steps silent, calculated. The night wrapped around them, tense and suffocating.
"You're distracted," Agent 01 said suddenly, her voice low but sharp.
Swayam didn't answer. His eyes stayed fixed on the shadows ahead.
She smirked faintly, almost mocking. "I can't afford distractions on this mission. Whatever storm is brewing in your head, control it. Or it will get you killed."
His grip tightened around his weapon, but he said nothing. Her arrogance fueled the fire already burning in him.
They slipped inside the building, the silence broken only by the echo of dripping water and distant creaks of metal. The deeper they went, the colder it felt. Every corner seemed alive with hidden eyes, every shadow ready to strike.
Then, faintly, voices. Male. Rough. Coming from a chamber ahead.
Agent 01 raised her hand, signaling Swayam to halt. She crouched low, peering through a crack in the wall. Swayam mirrored her, his breath steady but his heart pounding.
What he saw made his stomach twist—
The man standing at the center of the chamber. The same silhouette he had seen last night with Siya.