Inheritance of Fire
Rathore Estate – West Wing Garden
The monsoon rains had left the garden fragrant and dripping with rebirth. Under the canopy, Aaradhya sat cross-legged on the wooden platform, eyes closed, breathing slow and deep.
She wasn't meditating.
She was remembering.
"You were born here."
Her eyes snapped open.
Devraj stood across from her, arms crossed, a rare softness in his granite features.
"I wasn't," she said, bitter. "I was forged here. Trained like a dog."
Devraj walked closer, the rustle of his sherwani brushing against the wet grass.
"No," he said. "You were born here, child. Not in that dungeon. Not in the program. But in Jaipur—blood of royals and syndicates alike."
Aaradhya stiffened.
"That's not possible."
Devraj held out a photo.
Two figures—young, regal, their eyes sharp and familiar.
"Your real parents," he said. "Dead before your second birthday. Assassinated in a syndicate coup."
Aaradhya took the photo with trembling hands.
"That… that's my mother?"
Devraj nodded. "Daughter of the Surya Varmas. Your father was my nephew. A Rathore."
Her breath caught.
"You knew?"
"We buried you for your protection. But they found you anyway."
He stepped forward.
"I'm sorry, beta. We should've brought you back sooner."
She looked at him then—not as the boss, not as the leader—but as the last tie to the family she never knew she had.
"How did Shraddha get me?"
Devraj's face darkened.
"She was part of the family, once. Married into one of our houses. Twisted. Power-hungry. She orchestrated the assassination, took you in, and covered her tracks."
Aaradhya clenched her fists. "So I've spent twenty-two years chasing shadows while she walked free?"
"No," Devraj said gently. "You spent twenty-two years surviving. Becoming stronger. Now you choose what to build."
---
Mumbai – Elite Crime Tribunal HQ
Ruhan stood before a panel of six. Behind him: files, video evidence, and a projection of Shraddha.
"You want to extradite her to Morocco?" the central judge asked. "Why?"
Ruhan didn't blink.
"She has connections in the Moroccan human trafficking route. If she disappears into an Indian cell, her network won't die. She needs to burn publicly. Globally."
One of the tribunal agents, a woman from Interpol, leaned forward. "You believe she'll talk?"
"She'll scream," Ruhan said. "Once she realizes the same tactics she used will be used on her."
A long pause.
Finally, the gavel dropped.
"Approved. But Rathore Syndicate is responsible for all transitions and security until transfer."
Ruhan nodded once.
And smiled like a man who knew exactly what hell he was about to unleash.
---
Rathore Estate – Private Lounge
Aaradhya stared at the black box Ruhan handed her.
"What's this?"
He leaned on the counter.
"Your legacy file. Everything about your family—land, assets, alliances. You've got claims in Jaipur, Udaipur, and parts of Singapore."
She hesitated.
"I don't want a throne built on blood."
Ruhan looked at her evenly. "Then build it better."
She opened the box.
Documents. Keys. Seals. A will signed in blood.
At the very bottom—an old bracelet, carved with gold tigers and sapphire eyes.
She traced it with her thumb.
"I wore this as a baby," she whispered.
Ruhan stepped closer, gently clasping it around her wrist.
"You weren't forged in shadows, Aru. You were born for fire."
---
Shraddha's Holding Cell – Interrogation Room
The room was soundproof, camera-free. Ruhan sat across from Shraddha.
Her shoulder was wrapped. Her pride, less so.
"Do you know what bothers me most?" he asked.
Shraddha rolled her eyes. "Please. Enlighten me."
"That you thought you broke her."
She scoffed. "She was a weapon. I just polished her."
"No," Ruhan said, calm and cold. "You built a sword. We turned her into a crown."
Shraddha sneered. "Clever. But don't mistake temporary victories for permanent power."
Ruhan leaned forward.
"We're not interested in power anymore. We're building empires."
She laughed then—sharp and ugly.
"And how long do you think she'll stay by your side when she finds out who burned the files about her real family?"
The room chilled.
Ruhan didn't flinch.
"You're bluffing."
Shraddha smirked. "Am I?"
---
Midnight – Aaradhya's Quarters
She sat before her window, moonlight catching the edges of the bracelet.
Zoya entered, carrying cocoa and her usual no-nonsense energy.
"I heard what Shraddha said."
Aaradhya's gaze remained distant.
"If Ruhan destroyed the files—"
"Then he probably did it to protect you," Zoya cut in. "From people trying to exploit your legacy."
Aaradhya turned. "Or from the truth."
Zoya put the cocoa down, kneeling beside her.
"I don't know what your truth is. But I know Ruhan would burn the world before he betrayed you."
Silence stretched between them.
Then Aaradhya whispered, "He doesn't have to betray me. He just has to keep one more secret."
---
Two Days Later – Jaipur Royal Courtyard
For the first time in two decades, the hidden gates of the Rathore-Surya Varma heritage estate were opened.
Media crowded the sides. Guards flanked the courtyard.
Aaradhya stepped out, wearing her heritage ensemble—navy blue silks, royal insignia pinned to her shoulder, and the tiger-sapphire bracelet sparkling in full view.
Ruhan stood behind her, dressed in black.
She approached the podium.
"I am Aaradhya Surya Varma Rathore. For years, I was erased. Trained to forget. But now I stand before you as both heir and firestarter."
The crowd roared.
"I will not rule through fear. I will not repeat the mistakes of my bloodline. I will build something cleaner. Sharper. Stronger."
She lifted her chin.
"And for every child locked in the dark, I promise—your days of shadows are done."
---
Backstage
Ruhan met her at the curtain.
"You didn't have to go that hard," he said, smirking.
She smiled faintly. "You underestimate how long I've waited to speak."
He held out a tiny case.
"What's this?"
He opened it.
Inside—an engagement ring.
Platinum.
But beneath the diamond—etched fire and tiger designs.
"Aaru," he said, voice soft. "We've both lived in the dark. But I want the rest of my days to be in your light."
She stared.
Then—
"You knew about the fire. The files. You kept it from me."
Ruhan's breath caught. "I did. To protect you."
"From what?" she whispered. "The truth?"
He stepped back.
She didn't take the ring.
Not yet.
"I need to believe," she said, voice breaking, "that loving you won't come with more lies."
And she walked away, the sound of legacy and heartbreak echoing behind her.
---