Rain slick streets. Midnight.
Arya’s boots splash through puddles as she reaches the latest crime scene. A man lies on the ground, his eyes wide in terror, the letters “CS” carved into his chest.
She kneels beside him, heart hammering.
Another victim. Another message from Rivan.
Arya (muttering): “Show yourself, Rivan Kael. This ends tonight.”
A soft, mocking laugh echoes behind her. She spins, gun raised.
Rivan: “Detective Arya. You really think you can catch a shadow?”
His eyes are too close. Too dangerous. Too… magnetic.
Arya: “Step away.”
Rivan: “Or what? You’ll arrest me?”
He steps closer, rain dripping from his hair, his gaze fixed on her like a predator assessing prey.
Arya: “You killed him.”
Rivan (softly): “No. I killed the man who deserved it. Consider it… vigilante justice.”
Her hands shake — a fact she refuses to admit — and he notices immediately.
He smiles. A slow, knowing smile.
Rivan: “Ah. That flicker. That’s when the hunter realizes the hunted has a heartbeat too.”
Before she can react, he vanishes into the shadows, leaving only one trace:
“Chasing shadows is a dangerous game, inspector. Careful… you might fall for one.”
Her grip tightens on her gun. Her heart tightens in her chest.
For the first time, Arya Rathod feels like she’s being hunted.
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