Rahil did nothing wrong ' what could that mean?

Rahil slowly opens his eyes, his vision still blurry. As he regains focus, he sees Mehwish and Danish standing before him. Confusion flickers across his face as he asks, "What happened to me? And what about Alia? Did you find out anything? She was attacking us… but who was the mastermind behind her?"

Danish exhales deeply before answering, "You've been in a coma since the day we entered the cave. And as for Alia and the mastermind behind her… there have been no leads. Ever since you lost consciousness, there haven't been any more attacks."

Rahil, now visibly anxious, tries to sit up. His heart pounds as he asks, "Where is Rania?"

Danish hesitates, his expression darkening. "She… she fell off the cliff. Don't you remember?"

A heavy silence settles in the room. Rahil's breath catches in his throat as sorrow washes over him. His voice drops to a whisper. "And Ana? Where is she?"

Mehwish steps forward, her voice gentle. "She's in my room. We told her that Rania had to go somewhere and would be back after a long time."

Rahil's fingers tighten around the sheets as he struggles to process everything. His voice is hoarse when he finally speaks. "How long… how long have I been unconscious?"

Danish looks at him solemnly and replies, "Five months."

Rania had become a renowned designer, her name now shining in the fashion industry. Today marked her first day at Rahil's company—a new beginning, a fresh chapter. But fate had more in store than she could anticipate.

On the very same day, Rahil Sign Rajun was also set to return to the company. A coincidence? Or the invisible threads of destiny pulling them back together?

Would their paths cross once more? And if they did, would their eyes reflect the fire of old wounds, the bitterness of resentment? Or would they find themselves drawn into the same love that once bound them together?

This was a story only fate could write. What did destiny desire? Would it weave them back together, or tear them apart forever? Only time would reveal the answer.

Rahil was on his way to the company where Rania now worked as a designer. The morning was supposed to be ordinary—just another day at work. But fate had other plans.

Halfway through his journey, the sharp crack of gunfire shattered the air. Bullets rained down in a sudden ambush. The car screeched to a halt, chaos erupting around him. Heart pounding, Rahil immediately pulled out his phone and called Danish.

Within minutes, Danish arrived at the scene, his expression tense. Rahil, miraculously unharmed, stepped out of the car—only to see his driver lying lifeless on the ground. His chest bore a single arrow, and attached to it was a small, folded note.

Rahil's hands trembled slightly as he unfolded the paper. The message sent a chill down his spine:

"I have been waiting for this day. Now that you're out of your coma, the game begins again."

Rahil and Danish exchanged uneasy glances. A silence heavy with unspoken fears settled between them.

Danish clenched his jaw. "We need to find Alia. Your life is in danger."

Without wasting another moment, they headed home, where Mehwish was already deep in her own investigation. By the time they arrived, she had news.

"I found Alia's address," she announced.

Determined to confront her, the three of them—Rahil, Danish, and Mehwish—drove straight to her house. As they reached the front door, Rahil knocked firmly.

Moments later, the door creaked open, revealing Alia. The instant her gaze landed on them—Rahil, Mehwish, and Danish—her eyes widened in shock.

Without a word, she slammed the door shut and bolted inside.

"She's running!" Danish shouted.

Rahil's jaw tightened. "Not this time."

Danish didn't hesitate. With a powerful kick, he broke down the door, and the three of them stormed inside.

Alia stood in the middle of the room, her expression unreadable.

Rahil took a step forward, his voice cold and firm. "You have nowhere to run now. Tell us—who are you working for? Who ordered you to do all this?"

Alia suddenly threw her head back and laughed—a sharp, unsettling sound that echoed through the room. "Do you really think I'll just tell you because you asked?"

Danish's patience snapped. He raised his gun, aiming it straight at her. "Talk, or I swear I'll pull the trigger."

Alia's confidence wavered. Fear flickered in her eyes as she raised her hands. "Alright! Wait! I'll tell you... The truth is, the person you've been looking for is—"

Before she could finish her sentence, a sharp gunshot rang out.

A bullet tore through Alia's chest, her body jerking backward as blood bloomed across her clothes. Her eyes widened in shock, and she collapsed to the ground.

Rahil and Mehwish gasped, their heads snapping toward the direction of the shot. Danish, without hesitation, bolted out of the room, rushing toward the rooftop of the neighboring house.

Someone was there. Someone who didn't want the truth to come out.

And Danish was going to find out who.

Mehwish quickly knelt beside Alia, holding her as blood pooled beneath her body. Her breathing was shallow, her life slipping away with every second.

Rahil leaned closer, urgency in his voice. "Alia, please… tell me. Who is behind all this?"

Alia's lips trembled, her voice barely a whisper. "Rahil… you did nothing wrong… Your real name… is Rahim… we knew because…"

Before she could finish, her body went limp. Her eyes stared blankly at the ceiling—lifeless.

Rahil froze. "Alia? Alia!" But she was gone.

A heavy silence settled in the room as the weight of the unfinished truth pressed down on them.

Just then, Danish rushed back inside. Mehwish turned to him, her voice tight with urgency. "Did you find the shooter?"

Danish shook his head, frustration etched into his face. "No one was there. We searched the entire house—it's been abandoned for a long time. Whoever shot Alia… vanished without a trace."

He turned his gaze toward Rahil. "Did she say anything before she died?"

Mehwish nodded hesitantly. "She said… 'Rahil did nothing wrong.' What could that mean?"

Rahil clenched his fists, his mind racing. His real name? Rahim? How did Alia know? And more importantly… what had she been about to reveal?

None of them had the answers. But one thing was certain—whoever was behind this didn't just want to kill them. They wanted to bury the truth forever.

Without another word, the three of them left, their hearts heavy with the weight of a mystery that had only just begun.