Nineteen Years Later

The forest lay in the fragile hush of predawn — that blue-black hour when the world holds its breath before the sun arrives. Everything was still except for the desperate sound of footsteps crashing through the mud.

A man ran breathlessly, drenched in sweat, his eyes darting around in panic. He kept glancing behind him as though the shadows themselves were chasing him.

His phone rang.

He snatched it up instantly.

“Did you get the pendrive?” a cold voice demanded from the other end.

“Yes, I got it,” the man panted. “But I won’t be meeting you anymore. He… he knows everything. He’ll kill me!”

“Stupid,” the voice hissed. “You can’t even do one thing properly. Now die at his hands — that’s your punishment.”

The call ended.

Terror filled the man’s chest as he kept running. Branches scratched his face, his lungs burned. Suddenly, he reached the edge of a cliff. Below, a gray lake lay like a mirror, and along its banks the shapes of crocodiles stirred, their silhouettes black against the dim water. His heartbeat thundered in his ears.

He turned to run back, but froze.

A group of men dressed in black stood in front of him, blocking every path of escape.

He swallowed hard. And then, through them, walked another man — tall, composed, with eyes darker than the night itself.

The runner’s body trembled. He fell to his knees before the man, clutching his legs.

“Please… please forgive me! Don’t kill me! Here—take the pendrive! I didn’t give it to anyone!”

The leader took the pendrive, examined it, then smiled cruelly and tossed it aside.

The man blinked in confusion.

The leader’s voice was low and calm.

“You really thought you could walk into my territory, steal my information, and leave alive?”

He chuckled softly, helping the man back to his feet. “I knew about you long before you even realized. But I let you play your little game. The pendrive you had…” he smirked, “…was fake. It had nursery rhymes in it.”

The man’s eyes widened in horror.

The leader grabbed his collar and led him toward the cliff.

“I could’ve killed you any time,” he murmured, “but I wanted to see how far a fool like you could run.”

Then, with a faint smile, he said,

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to kill you.”

The man let out a shaky sigh of relief, tears welling up.

The leader looked down at the lake and said almost lazily, “Look — the crocodiles seem hungry. And one should never snatch food from the hungry.”

Before the man could plead, the leader shoved him off the cliff.

A raw cry ripped the air, the water below bloomed red in seconds.

The leader watched, expression unreadable. A hint of a smile touched his mouth.

“Miransh.”

The voice broke through his calm. He turned. A man in a formal suit stood there, watching him. It was Kiaan, his childhood friend. 

“I’m a criminal lawyer,” Kiaan said, stepping closer. 

“I know,” Miransh said with a smirk.

Kiaan rolled his eyes, “You just murdered right in front of me. Have some shame yaar.”

Miransh shrugged, “Really? What did I do? I fed the hungry. Feeding the hungry is a virtuous act, isn’t it?”

He put on his sunglasses and added, “You should thank me, I’ve made your job easier — you can simply label it as an accident.”

Kiaan sighed but couldn’t suppress a small grin.

As Miransh walked toward his car, Kiaan called out, “So, what’s the plan now?”

Miransh paused at the door. “For now, I’m going to sleep. Good night.”

Kiaan frowned. 

Morning — Maurya Mansion

Time had moved on, but the Maurya Mansion carried its weight in silence.

So much has changed over the years.

Shikha, Abhimaan, and Deepa had withdrawn from the world they once ruled, choosing the quiet of their farmhouse over responsibilities. They had passed on the reins, leaving behind memories instead of commands.

The walls of the mansion still held photographs — but only frames remained.

Ivaan and Jharna smiled from frozen moments, their laughter trapped behind glass. They were present everywhere… yet nowhere at all.

Adhik now handled Abhimaan’s business with ruthless dedication. The carefree playboy he once was had long disappeared. Work kept him breathing, kept him distracted. Somewhere deep inside, he was still waiting for Meera — not knowing whether she was alive… or just another ghost haunting the mansion.

Tia and Vihaan were the quiet pillars now, holding the household together with unspoken strength.

Miransh’s Room

Darkness ruled the room.

The curtains were drawn tight, not allowing even a sliver of sunlight to intrude. Miransh lay on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, eyes hollow yet alert — as if sleep had forgotten him long ago.

His mind was empty.

And yet… dangerously full.

A loud knock shattered the silence.

Once.

Twice.

Urgent. Panicked.

Miransh blinked, pulled out of his thoughts. He turned on the light and opened the door.

Tia stood there, worry etched deep into her face.

“What happened, chachi?” Miransh asked, his voice calm—but sharp underneath.

Tia swallowed. “I got a call from Ivana’s college. A woman… she was shouting, cursing Ivana continuously. Something is wrong there. I don’t know what happened, but I’m scared for her.”

Something dark flickered in Miransh’s eyes.

His jaw tightened.

Flashback — Years Ago | Ivana’s Birth

The hospital smelled of antiseptic and fear.

Miransh sat alone on a bench, his small fists clenched, anger clouding his young face.

Vihaan approached him with a smile.

“Congratulations, champ. You’re a big brother now. You have a little sister. Want to see her?”

Miransh snapped, voice trembling with rage,

“I don’t want her. Because of her, my momma suffered so much.”

Vihaan sighed softly. “Then… Do you want to see your momma?”

Miransh’s anger melted instantly.

“Yes. Yes,” he nodded quickly.

Inside the room, Jharna lay exhausted but smiling, Ivaan holding her hand like it was the most precious thing in the world. Beside them, a tiny baby lay curled up in her cradle.

Miransh rushed to Jharna.

“Momma… are you okay?”

She smiled and nodded.

His voice broke, “You were suffering because of that girl. I hate girls.”

Ivaan and Jharna exchanged a look.

“Well,” Ivaan said gently, “then it’s my fault.”

Jharna lightly hit his arm and looked back at Miransh.

“Do you love me?”

Miransh nodded instantly.

“She was inside me,” Jharna said softly. “I made her from my own body. If you love me, how can you hate something that came from me?”

Miransh blinked, confused… shaken.

Jharna continued, her voice warm,

“Look at her, Ansh. She’s so small. So delicate. She’s your sister. You are a big brother now. And big brothers… They always protect their sisters. Will you protect her?”

Miransh looked at the tiny baby.

Fragile. Innocent. Helpless.

Something shifted inside him.

He smiled.

And nodded.

Flashback Ends

The roar of the engine filled the air.

Miransh’s car cut through the road like a storm, his grip tight on the steering wheel, eyes burning with fury.

She is the last memory of my momma and dadda, he thought.

One scratch on my sister… and I will burn the entire college to the ground.

Ivana’s College

The principal’s office was thick with tension.

Ivana stood near the window, arms crossed, her posture relaxed—almost bored. There was no fear on her face, no guilt. Only a faint crease between her brows, like the whole situation was a waste of her time.

Across the room, a boy sat with his head bandaged, his eyes lowered. His mother stood beside him, constantly cursing Ivana, anger radiating off her.

The door opened.

Miransh walked in.

The air shifted instantly.

The principal straightened. The woman stopped mid-sentence. Even the boy stiffened.

The woman turned toward Miransh at once.

“My son is in this condition because of your sister,” she snapped. “Look at him! He could have died!”

Miransh’s gaze dropped to the boy—slow, assessing, from head to toe.

Then he turned to Ivana.

“You did this?” he asked calmly.

Ivana rolled her eyes.

“Bhai, he was pulling my skirt. So I pushed him.”

Miransh nodded once.

“Which floor?”

“First,” Ivana replied casually.

Miransh’s lips curved into a faint smile. He looked back at the boy.

“You seem very weak,” he said mildly. “It was just the first floor.”

Ivana tilted her head. “Exactly.”

The woman gasped. “You— you both are criminals!” she shouted. Then she spun toward the principal.

“If this girl continues to study here, then my son will not study in this college anymore!”

The principal swallowed hard and looked at Miransh.

Miransh was already looking at him.

A bead of sweat rolled down the principal’s temple. He quickly picked up a file, signed a paper, and slid it across the desk.

The woman’s face broke into a satisfied smile as she snatched it—

only for that smile to freeze.

Her eyes widened.

It wasn’t Ivana’s expulsion letter.

It was her son’s rustication notice.

“For harassment of a female student,” the principal said stiffly.

The woman stared at the paper, then at her son, then at Miransh.

Miransh spoke calmly, almost politely.

“You can leave, ma’am.”

The woman’s hands trembled as she gathered her things. Before leaving, she shot Ivana and Miransh a look filled with pure hatred.

Ivana met her gaze without blinking.

The door shut.

Silence followed.

Miransh finally looked at his sister.

“You okay?”

Ivana shrugged. “He shouldn’t have touched me.”

Miransh’s jaw tightened for a brief second. Then he nodded.

“Good. Let’s go home.”

Maurya Mansion

Tia paced the living room restlessly, her footsteps echoing in the vast space. Her eyes kept drifting toward the main door, as if willing it to open again. Anxiety clung to her like a second skin.

Vihaan came downstairs and stopped when he saw her. He sighed — a tired, understanding sigh — and walked toward her.

“Come sit,” he said gently. “Miransh went there. He’ll handle everything.”

Tia shook her head, her voice breaking.

“But I’m still worried, Vihaan. Jharna trusted me with her children… and I feel like I’m failing her.”

Vihaan looked at her, then slowly shook his head in denial.

“No. You’re not.”

Before Tia could respond, a cheerful voice rang through the hall.

“Tia mom!”

Both of them turned.

Ivana ran in, her footsteps light, her face glowing. She threw herself into Tia’s arms without a second thought. Tia hugged her tightly, relief flooding through her veins, and softly patted her head.

“Thank God… you’re okay,” Tia whispered.

Ivana laughed lightly.

“Of course I am, tia mom. What could possibly happen to me?”

Then she added dramatically, “But if I don’t eat something delicious right now, that will definitely be my end.”

Tia couldn’t help but smile at her antics.

“Go, freshen up first,” she said warmly. “I’ll make something special for you.”

Ivana grinned and skipped toward her room, her presence leaving behind warmth and life.

Tia turned, her eyes instinctively searching for Miransh.

She opened her mouth to say something.

But before she could, Miransh spoke, his tone firm and distant.

“Chachi, I have some work at Vertigo. I need to leave.”

And just like that, he walked away.

No pause.

No glance back.

Tia stood there, the unspoken words dissolving in her throat. The sadness returned, heavier this time.

Vihaan came closer and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“It’s not your fault,” he said softly. “Miransh had a cruel childhood. He couldn’t accept Meera as his mother… So how can he easily accept you?”

Tia nodded slowly. Understanding the reason didn’t make the pain any less. 

Concert Night

Under the dazzling lights of a crowded arena, Palki stood at the center of the stage. The air vibrated with applause, camera flashes, and cheers.

But for her, it was all just noise.

She closed her eyes, let the music flow through her veins, and began to sing.

Vertigo — Miransh Cabin

The cabin was dark—only the faint glow of a tablet screen cut through the shadows.

Miransh sat in his chair, his head resting against the leather backrest, eyes closed. On the screen, Palki was singing—her voice soft, haunting, almost ethereal. The melody filled the silence around him, and for the first time in the whole day, his heartbeat slowed.

This song… it wasn’t just music. It was peace. It was something he didn’t know he’d been searching for.

Concert Night

The audience was lost in Palki’s voice. Her voice carried something raw, something broken yet beautiful. Every word wrapped around the hearts of the audience, pulling them into her world.

And then—

everything went black.

A loud gasp echoed.

The lights flickered once, twice—then came back on.

But Palki was gone.

Vertigo — Miransh Cabin

Miransh’s cabin door swung open.

A man hurried in, breathing heavily. “Boss,” he said, his voice shaking. “She’s gone.”

For a moment, silence filled the room.

Then, Miransh’s lips curved into a faint smile.

He rose from his chair, buttoned his coat, and murmured—

“Let’s play Eyelid.”

***

Sitara’s Note 

Miransh is a villain!!!

New readers will surely think so.

But those who walked with him in Bridges of Destiny know—

how innocent he once was,

how softly he loved,

how fiercely he was protected.

From innocence to cruelty…

Miransh has come a very long way.

So many things have changed.

Faces, places, hearts.

And yet—

The game of destiny remains the same.

Do you remember how Jharna once defended her little boy in his school when had gotten into a fight?

When I wrote Ivana’s college scene, that memory returned to me.

History has a strange habit of repeating itself—

though sometimes… it chooses a different path.

So tell me—

What do you think Heirs of Destiny exists for?

Is it about revenge?

Healing?

Or the echoes we inherit without realizing?

I’m reading every thought you leave behind.

With a new beginning,

— Sitara Chandria