POV: Arth Rathore / Swara Malhotra / Kabir Bhalla / Ananya Iyer / Ishaan Malhotra
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PART 1: THE SIGNATURE THAT COSTS A SOUL
POV: Arth Rathore
London nights were too quiet.
Silence has a way of making thoughts louder.
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I stared at the file in front of me.
Still unopened.
Still waiting.
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Rishi's words echoed—
"Help me rebuild."
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I exhaled sharply.
"No."
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But my hand didn't move away.
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Because this wasn't just about me anymore.
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It never was.
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My phone buzzed.
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A video.
Unknown sender.
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I didn't want to open it.
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But I did.
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And instantly—
My world tilted.
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Wishakha.
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She was in a newsroom.
Typing.
Focused.
Unaware.
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The angle—
Too precise.
Too close.
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Surveillance.
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My chest tightened.
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Another message appeared:
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"You don't get to be selfish anymore, Arth."
"Sign. Or she becomes part of the story."
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My hand trembled.
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Rishi wasn't asking.
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He was choosing.
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And I was just reacting.
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Slowly…
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I picked up the pen.
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PART 2: THE BOY WHO CAME BACK WRONG
POV: Swara Malhotra
I knew it was him.
Before I even saw his face.
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Some connections don't break.
They just… hurt differently.
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The café door opened.
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And there he was.
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Kabir Bhalla.
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But not the Kabir I knew.
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This one was quieter.
Colder.
Like someone had taken pieces out of him.
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"You came," he said softly.
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I laughed.
Bitter.
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"You called."
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Silence.
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We sat across each other.
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Same table.
Different people.
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"You shouldn't be here," he said.
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"You shouldn't have left."
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That hit.
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Hard.
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His jaw tightened.
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"I didn't have a choice."
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"Funny," I snapped.
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"Because you made it look pretty easy."
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Silence.
Heavy.
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Then—
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"I'm trying to fix it."
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I leaned forward.
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"By working for them?"
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He flinched.
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Good.
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"Swara…"
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"No," I cut him off.
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"You don't get to say my name like everything is okay."
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A pause.
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Then—
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"They're watching you."
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My breath stilled.
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"What?"
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His voice dropped.
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"Everything you do. Everywhere you go."
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My heartbeat spiked.
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"Why?"
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He didn't answer immediately.
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And that scared me more than anything.
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"Because of me."
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Silence.
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And just like that—
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The anger disappeared.
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Replaced by something worse.
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Fear.
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PART 3: THE WARNING
POV: Ananya Iyer
Fear sharpens you.
If you let it.
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I didn't panic.
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I analyzed.
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The live feed.
The call.
The pattern.
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Someone wanted me to know I was being watched.
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Which meant—
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They wanted me to react.
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I wouldn't.
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I opened my laptop.
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Started tracing the link.
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Code.
Signals.
Redirects.
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Complex.
But not impossible.
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"Let's see who you are," I whispered.
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The screen flickered.
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Then—
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Black.
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A message appeared.
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"Curiosity is dangerous, Ananya."
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I smirked.
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"So is underestimating me."
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A pause.
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Then—
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"Last warning."
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The screen glitched.
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And suddenly—
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A video started playing.
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My parents.
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At home.
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Talking.
Laughing.
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Safe.
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Unaware.
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My blood went cold.
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"Stop."
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The video paused.
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Then—
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"Then stop digging."
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Silence.
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This wasn't a threat.
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This was control.
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And for the first time—
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I hesitated.
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PART 4: THE BREAK
POV: Ishaan Malhotra
I missed on purpose.
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And it didn't feel like defeat.
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It felt like betrayal.
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Not of the game.
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Of myself.
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Locker room was silent.
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No one talked to me.
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Good.
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I didn't want to explain.
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Because I couldn't.
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My phone buzzed again.
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Message:
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"Next game. Same result."
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I clenched my fists.
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No.
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Not again.
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I won't—
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Another message.
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A photo.
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Swara.
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On her scooty.
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Alone.
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My breath hitched.
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"You don't get to touch her," I muttered.
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But the message came anyway—
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"Then behave."
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Something inside me broke.
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Not cracked.
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Shattered.
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Because this time—
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It wasn't just Ananya.
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It was my sister.
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And suddenly—
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There was no choice left.
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PART 5: THE TRUTH HE HIDES
POV: Kabir Bhalla
I lied to her.
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Not completely.
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But enough.
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"They're watching you."
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True.
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"Because of me."
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Also true.
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But not the whole truth.
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Because the real reason—
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Was worse.
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I looked at my phone.
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New message.
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From Rishi.
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"Good. She trusts you."
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My jaw tightened.
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No.
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She didn't.
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Not anymore.
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And maybe that was the only thing protecting her.
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Because if she did—
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She'd follow me.
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And if she followed me—
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She'd see everything.
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And if she saw everything—
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She wouldn't survive it.
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I closed my eyes.
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"I'll fix this," I whispered.
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But even I didn't believe it.
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FINAL LINE:
Some strings are pulled gently.
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Some are pulled tight.
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And some…
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Are already wrapped around your throat.