Chapter 12

The investigation grew over the following weeks. The scale of the corruption was worse than any of them had imagined.

But through the chaos, Inna and Vikram remained tethered.

They grew closer with every deposition. Every late-night strategy session. The bond was deep. Forged in fire and shadow.

They both knew that in any other world, one without a missing fiancée and a digital trail, they would be together.

Inna watched Vikram handle the pressure with quiet dignity. She saw him refuse to capitalize on their proximity. Keeping distance even when the air between them was thick with longing.

She wasn’t angry anymore. She was proud.

She’d spent her life around men who took what they wanted. Vikram was a man who did what was right.

He became the most important person in her world. A man of integrity she could actually believe in.

But as they finished their parts, they found fewer excuses to be together. Even though they both desperately wanted it.

They both felt immoral building this relationship in the absence of Elara. The woman who’d given up everything for justice.

The night before the first wave of arrests, the pressure finally cracked Inna’s professional veneer.

Once the case was solved, Elara would return. She’d lose Vikram forever to a woman who was like a goddess to them both. Who could compete with that?

So that night after work she went to the bar and got drunk. Really drunk.

Vikram was startled by heavy uneven knocking at his door.

When he opened it, Inna was leaning against the frame. Her hair was wild. Her coat was unbuttoned. The smell of cheap tequila hit him first.

She was swaying. Her usual sharp focus was replaced by loose heartbreaking vulnerability.

“Inna?” He’d seen her handle gunmen and corrupt politicians without blinking. He’d never seen her lose control.

“You’re so noble,” she slurred, stepping into the apartment and nearly tripping over her boots. “So loyal. It’s infuriating, Vikram. So infuriating.”

He caught her by the elbows and guided her toward the couch. “You’re drunk. Let’s get you some water.”

“I’m honest,” she corrected. Her voice cracked as she looked up at him. She reached out. Her hand trembled as she touched his cheek.

She stumbled again. He caught her, and clung to him. Her fingers gripped his shirt.

“You know what the worst part is?” Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears. “I know you want me too Vikram. I felt it. During the massage. In the car. I felt how much you want me.”