A Restless Night

A Restless Night
Siara walked briskly out of the Vardhan estate, the cool night air brushing against her skin. Laughter and music from the party faded as she reached her car, but her mind wasn’t in the present anymore.

That tattoo.

Her fingers clenched around the car keys, the sharp metal biting into her skin. It could be a coincidence. It should be a coincidence. A lot of people could have the same tattoo. And yet, she couldn’t shake off the gnawing sense of unease crawling up her spine.

She had to get away.

As she opened the car door, a voice called out, stopping her in her tracks.

“Leaving already?”

Siara turned around, already knowing who it was. Ekansh Vardhan stood a few steps away, his gaze sharp, studying her with a look that made her feel stripped bare. He had discarded his suit jacket, the crisp white of his shirt standing in stark contrast to the night. His sleeves were still rolled up from earlier, but the tattoo—that damn tattoo—was now hidden beneath the shadows.

Her heart pounded against her ribs, but she forced a neutral expression. “I’m not feeling well. Thought I should head home.”

Ekansh’s brows furrowed slightly. “You were fine a few minutes ago.”

“Well, now I’m not.” Her voice was sharper than intended.

For a second, he didn’t respond, his gaze pinning her in place like he was searching for something she wasn’t ready to share. Then, he exhaled, tilting his head slightly. “I’ll drop you.”

“No need. I’ll be fine.”

He didn’t budge. “Siara.”

The way he said her name, low and certain, sent a flicker of irritation through her. She needed to leave—now—before she did something reckless.

She exhaled slowly. “It’s Kavya’s birthday, Ekansh. You should stay. She won’t like it if her brother disappears from his own sister’s party.”

He studied her for a moment before finally nodding. “Fine. But text me when you reach home.”

Siara just nodded before getting into her car and driving away, barely resisting the urge to step on the accelerator and speed off into the night.

As she drove, her knuckles tightened around the steering wheel. Her mind was a mess, her thoughts spiraling, trying to make sense of something she didn’t even fully understand.

Then, in the rearview mirror—headlights.

A car. No, two.

Her pulse spiked. She took a left turn, then another, subtly checking the mirrors.

They were still behind her.

Or were they?

She couldn’t be sure. Was she being followed, or was she just being paranoid? The logical part of her said it was nothing, but the instinct that had kept her alive all these years whispered otherwise.

She had planned to go to her office, to sit in silence, clear her mind, think. But at the last moment, she turned toward home instead.

Just in case.

Even after she parked, she waited, watching the road. The cars were gone.

Maybe it had been her imagination.

Or maybe not.

As she stepped into the house, Advika’s voice greeted her almost instantly. “You’re home early.”

Siara shrugged, forcing nonchalance. “The party was nice. I just wasn’t feeling great.”

Advika studied her, eyes narrowing slightly. “Siara—”

“I’m fine,” she cut in, tone final. “Just tired.”

Advika still didn’t look convinced, but she let it go.

Siara released a slow breath and walked to her room, shutting the door behind her.

She immediately pulled out her phone and scrolled to a familiar contact before pressing call.

The phone rang twice before a voice answered, groggy yet alert. “Ma’am?”

“Ayesha,” Siara said, rubbing a hand over her forehead. “Sorry for calling so late.”

There was a pause, then a quiet, “It’s alright. What do you need?”

Siara exhaled. “I need you to find out where Ekansh Vardhan was the night I went to the waiter’s house.”

Silence stretched between them. Then Ayesha spoke, confused. “Ekansh Vardhan? What does he have to do with it?”

Siara didn’t answer the question. “Just do it, Ayesha.”

Another pause. “Siara… is something wrong?”

Siara closed her eyes. “No. Just get me the information.”

Ayesha hesitated, then finally said, “Understood. I’ll get back to you as soon as I find something.”

Siara ended the call, setting the phone down on her desk before leaning back in her chair.

Her mind refused to quiet down. The waiter. The drugs. His death. The missing CCTV footage. The Black Serpents.

And now—Ekansh.

She remembered the moment at the party so clearly. How he had so easily brushed off the dare to show his muscles, how he had rolled up his sleeve without a second thought. The room had been filled with laughter, cheers, teasing. But for her, time had stopped.

She had only caught a glimpse. A fraction of a second.

But it was enough.

Enough to plant suspicion.

Enough to make her wonder—had she seen it before?

Her hands clenched into fists.

It could be nothing.

Or it could be everything.

And for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t sure which possibility terrified her more.

·–––––––––·

Siara leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples as exhaustion seeped into her bones. Her mind was a mess—too many thoughts colliding, too many questions with no answers. 

Her phone vibrated against the wooden desk, snapping her out of her thoughts. 

Ekansh Vardhan. 

Her fingers hovered over the screen. She didn’t want to pick up. Not now, not when her suspicions were dangerously close to tipping over into something she couldn’t control. But if she ignored him, it would arouse suspicion—Ekansh wasn’t the type to let things slide easily. 

Taking a deep breath, she finally answered. 

“Siara,” his voice was steady, but there was something beneath it. Concern? Suspicion? She couldn’t tell. 

“Haan?” She kept her voice neutral. 

“You didn’t text.” 

For a second, she blinked, thrown off. Then, she glanced at the time—she had been home for over half an hour. 

Damn it. 

She had been so lost in her thoughts, she had forgotten his one request before she left. 

“Sorry,” she said, gripping the phone tighter. “I got home safely.” 

Silence stretched on the other end for a moment before he spoke, his tone carrying something unreadable. “You sure?” 

Her grip on the phone tightened slightly. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“You left in a hurry.” 

Siara forced a light chuckle. “Told you, wasn’t feeling great. I just needed some rest.” 

Another pause. “And you’re resting now?” 

She exhaled. “Yes, Ekansh. I’m fine.” 

He didn’t sound convinced. “Alright.” 

There was a beat of silence, then he added, “If you need anything, call me.” 

For a second, her resolve wavered. Not because of suspicion, but because of the way he said it. 

Like he meant it. 

She forced a small, dismissive chuckle. “I don’t think I’ll need anything in the middle of the night, but sure.” 

Ekansh didn’t laugh. “Goodnight, Siara.” 

She hesitated before responding, “Goodnight.” 

The call ended, leaving her staring at her phone, her heartbeat oddly erratic. 

She should have felt relieved. She had convinced him she was fine. But instead, an uneasy feeling settled in her chest. 

Siara ran a hand through her hair, exhaling sharply. Focus. 

She couldn’t afford distractions. 

But as she stared at her laptop screen, the words blurred. The pieces weren’t fitting together, and yet, there was a connection—she could feel it, just beyond her reach. 

Her fingers drummed against the desk before she pulled out her notepad, flipping to the page where she had sketched the tattoo. Her gaze traced the sharp edges, the intricate design burned into her memory. 

And now, the same tattoo—or something eerily similar—had been glimpsed under Ekansh’s sleeve. 

Coincidence? 

Or had she just been dancing with a man who held the answers she was desperately seeking? 

A slow shiver ran down her spine. 

If Ekansh Vardhan was involved
with the Black Serpents, then she was standing at the edge of something far more dangerous than she had imagined. 

And worse? 

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to step back—or dive in.