The crime scene was chaos.
Police tape fluttered in the sea breeze.
Forensics moved carefully around the body.
Media vultures circled, cameras flashing, hungry for answers.
The victim had been found by early-morning joggers, her body tangled in fishing nets near the shore.
"Kavya's friend," Sameer said grimly as Arjun approached.
"The journalist. Rhea Malhotra."
Arjun's stomach dropped.
"She was investigating the murders."
"Yeah. And she got too close."
They stood over the body—young, vibrant life cut short. Her phone lay nearby, water-damaged but not beyond hope.
"Get that to tech immediately," Arjun ordered.
"I want every call, every message, every search."
His phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A text message.
No words. Just an image.
His breath stopped.
It was a photo from six years ago—him and Myra tangled together in bed, clearly post-sex, her head resting on his chest. A lazy Sunday morning. A promise to delete it.
They never had.
Another message followed.
Remember when you were mine? She'll never have you the way I did.
Then a third.
Tell Kavya to be careful. Accidents happen to women who take what doesn't belong to them.
"Boss?" Sameer noticed his expression.
"What is it?"
Arjun showed him the messages.
"Shit," Sameer muttered.
"This is personal. The killer knows you."
"It's Myra," Arjun said flatly.
"It has to be."
"Your ex? You sure?"
Was he?
The woman he'd just seen—composed, brilliant, controlled. Could she really be a serial killer? Could the girl he'd loved have turned into this?
But the photo…
Only Myra had it.
"Get a warrant for her records," Arjun said.
"And put surveillance on her. Twenty-four seven."
"And Ms. Singhania? If she's next—"
"I'll handle that personally."
Kavya's law firm occupied a restored colonial building in Fort—dark wood, high ceilings, history soaked into the walls. Her office was on the third floor, cluttered with papers and stacked case files.
She looked up as Arjun entered, surprise flickering across her face.
"Detective Mehta. Twice in twenty-four hours."
A faint smile.
"Should I be flattered or concerned?"
"Your friend is dead," he said quietly.
"Rhea Malhotra."
The color drained from her face.
"What?"
"Found this morning. I need to know what she was investigating."
Kavya stood, hands trembling as she gripped the desk.
"She… she called me yesterday," she said.
"Said she'd found a connection between all the victims. They all saw the same therapist."
"Dr. Myra Kapoor."
"Yes."
Rhea was going to confront her. Get an interview.
"I told her to wait. To let the police handle it, but—"
Her voice broke.
"She never listened. She always needed the story first."
Arjun moved closer.
"You're in danger. The killer has escalated. She's targeting you."
"She?" Kavya echoed.
He hesitated, then chose honesty.
"My ex-girlfriend. The therapist. I think she's killing these women. And I think you're next."
Kavya processed this quickly, legal mind clicking into place.
"Your ex," she said slowly.
"The one you avoided talking about last night."
"Yes."
"And you think she's a serial killer because…?"
He showed her the messages.
He watched her read. Watched understanding settle in.
"She's obsessed with you," Kavya said quietly.
"She thinks I'm stealing you from her."
"You're not stealing anything. What we had ended six years ago."
"Did it?"
Kavya looked at him—really looked.
"Because from where I'm standing, it seems very much alive."
She wasn't wrong.
Talking about Myra reopened old wounds, old addictions. But there was something else too—something new. The pull toward Kavya. The way she challenged him. Matched him.
"I need you somewhere safe," he said.
"Until we catch her—"
"Absolutely not. I have cases. Clients. A life."
"Which won't matter if you're dead."
"I'm not hiding."
Her chin lifted.
"But I'm not stupid either. I'll be careful."
She stepped closer, into his space.
"And you…"
"You need to figure out what you're doing. Because whether you admit it or not, you're caught between two women."
"That never ends well."
"I'm not—"
She pressed a finger to his lips.
Intimate. Silencing.
"Don't lie to me, Arjun. I'm a lawyer. I can smell bullshit from miles away."
She lowered her hand.
"You want me. I can feel it. But you're still tangled up in her. In your past."
"And until you cut that cord completely—"
She stepped back, creating distance.
"I don't share. Ever."
"I'm not asking you to—"
"Aren't you?"
She picked up her briefcase.
"I have a hearing."
"I'll be careful. But Arjun…"
"Whatever happened between you and this woman—deal with it."
"Because if you come to me, I need all of you. Not the pieces she didn't destroy."
She walked out.
Arjun stood alone in her office—
caught between the ghost of his past
and the possibility of his future.