IGI Airport, Delhi. 2:17 AM.

Delhi didn’t sleep. But it held its breath when Shashwat Malhotra stepped off the jet.

Black suit. Black rage. Black coffee eyes that scanned the terminal like he already owned it. The humid air hit him, thick with monsoon and secrets. It smelled nothing like Istanbul.

It smelled like _her_.

He didn’t know how he knew. But he did.

“Address,” he said to Veer. No hello. No exhaustion. Ghosts didn’t get jet lag.

“South Delhi. Safdarjung Enclave. Third floor, flat 3B,” Veer replied, handing him a phone with her live location blinking. “She’s home. Lights went off ten minutes ago.”

Shashwat didn’t look at the screen. He was looking at the photo in his pocket again. Paint on her nose. Krishna on her neck.

“She sleeps early,” he murmured. Like that was a sin. Like softness offended him.

His car was already waiting. Black, bulletproof, tinted. Delhi’s chaos parted for it.

He wasn’t here to meet her. Not yet.

First, he would watch.

Then, he would unravel her.

And finally, he would use her to burn Vikram Oberoi to the ground.

That was the plan.

Plans don’t account for heartbeats.

Siya’s Flat, Safdarjung Enclave. Next Morning.

“Bro, you CANNOT kill him in the next chapter!”

Aaru threw a pillow at Siya’s face, nearly upending her chai. She was Siya’s best friend, roommate, and the self-appointed CEO of _RadheWrites’ Marketing Team_. Crop top, ripped jeans, and a permanent sparkle in her eyes. If Siya was moonlight, Aaru was Diwali fireworks.

“He’s the villain, Aaru,” Siya groaned, tucking her legs under her. Her laptop was open, Wattpad tab glowing. _Chapter 42: His Cold Heart_ had 78k reads overnight. “Villains die. That’s the rule.”

“Since when do you follow rules?” Aaru snatched the laptop, scrolling. “Look. Look at these comments.”

Siya leaned over, Kanha Ji pendant swinging. Her chest did that stupid flutter thing every time she read them.

*@MafiaGirl_22*: _OMG IF RUDRA DIES I WILL STOP BELIEVING IN LOVE 😭😭 YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO US RADHE!!_

*@BookishKrishna*: _Pls pls pls make him a good man 🙏 My delulu soul needs this. Give us enemies-to-lovers or give us death._

*@DelhiReads*: _The tension between Rudra and Meera??? I’m not okay. Are you okay?? I’m screaming at 3am._

*@Anonymous*: _Did anyone else notice how Rudra stares at Meera’s necklace? Just like someone I know 👀 Protect Meera at all costs!!

Siya bit her lip. “I didn’t write him to be saved.”

“Liar,” Aaru sang. “You wrote him to be _yours_. All that ‘cold-hearted mafia king with a dead mother’ stuff? That’s not research, Siya. That’s therapy.”

Siya chucked a paintbrush at her. “Shut up. And stop reading my drafts.”

“You literally make me edit them!” Aaru dodged, then got serious. “But real talk. What if Papa finds out? Vikram Oberoi’s daughter writing mafia romance? He’d lose it.”

The name _Vikram Oberoi_ made Siya’s chai taste bitter. She traced her pendant.

“He won’t. _RadheWrites_ is mine. KrishnaKala is mine. This flat, these diyas...” she gestured at the drying canvases of Radha-Krishna by the window, “this is the only part of me he doesn’t own.”

Aaru was quiet for a second. Then: “Promise me if a hot, dangerous, emotionally constipated mafia guy ever shows up at our door, you’ll let me meet him first?”

Siya rolled her eyes. “God, you and your fictional men.”

Outside, across the street, a black car idled.

Shashwat heard every word through the audio feed. _Hot, dangerous, emotionally constipated._

His jaw ticked.

_RadheWrites._

_Writes love stories for people who forgot how to believe in them._

He looked down at his scarred knuckles. He’d forgotten eighteen years ago.

*[Author’s Note from RadheWrites]*

Hey my lovely Radhe family 💙

I see you all fighting in the comments about Rudra 😂 Should he live or die? Should Meera hate him or heal him?

Vote here: ❤️ = REDEMPTION ARC | 💔 = LET HIM BURN

Next update: Tomorrow at 9PM. Promise it’ll hurt. In a good way?

Radhe

*Top Comments on Chapter 42:*

*@KanhaKiDeewani*: _Didi you’re making me cry in class 😭 If Meera can forgive Rudra, maybe I can forgive my ex too..._

*@FictionOverReality*: _The way he touched her necklace instead of her??? I felt that in my SOUL. Radhe you’re dangerous._

*@SharmaJiKaBeta*: _Plot twist: What if Rudra is actually the good guy? What if Meera’s dad is the real villain? I’m 100% serious rn._

Siya stared at that last one. A chill, different from the AC, ran down her arms.

Three kilometers away, Shashwat read the same comment on his phone.

And he smiled.

First real smile in eighteen years.

It wasn’t kind.

That Night. 11:47 PM.

Shashwat didn’t drink. Not tonight.

He sat in the dark of his Delhi penthouse, Siya’s Wattpad page open on his tablet. _His Cold Heart_. He’d read all 42 chapters in three hours.

Meera — soft, artist, believes in God.

Rudra — mafia, mother died, wants revenge on Meera’s father.

“Did anyone else notice how Rudra stares at Meera’s necklace?”

His eyes flicked to his desk. Surveillance photo: Siya at a temple, head bowed, fingers on her Kanha Ji pendant.

His enemy’s daughter wrote him before she even met him.

Fate was a bitch. And now she was his favorite author.

He opened the comments and typed for the first time in his life.

*@H_Y_A_L_E_T*: _Let him burn. Or make her burn with him. 🔥_

He hit post.

In Safdarjung, Siya’s phone buzzed.

She frowned at the new notification. No profile pic. No followers. Just that one comment.

Her heart did something weird. Not fear.

Recognition.

“Who are you?” she whispered to the screen.

Across Delhi, the Ghost whispered back to his empty room:

“Your villain.”

*To be continued...*