Back in Bangalore, Alisha was drowning in Samrat Oberoi's relentless demands. His contract felt like a noose, tightening with every passing day. Exhausted, she returned home one evening and collapsed onto her couch, pulling out the script for her upcoming movie, Riya. With shooting just weeks away, she needed to immerse herself in the role. This wasn't just another film—it was a psychological thriller that could redefine her career.The story of Riya centered on Priya, a girl born into poverty, raised by parents who worked as servants in the mansion of superstar Rahul. From childhood, Priya watched her parents care for Rahul, whose own parents died young. They treated him like a son, ensuring he never wanted for anything despite their humble status. Rahul grew up with a deep bond to Priya's family, especially Priya herself, whose breathtaking beauty captivated him as they matured. He fell in love, determined to marry her, heedless of society's judgment.Priya's parents were overjoyed at Rahul's proposal but hesitated, unwilling to force their daughter into a marriage she didn't want. Priya cared for Rahul but feared his cold, ruthless demeanor—a man with a heart of stone. She dodged his advances, torn between duty and dread. Yet, for her parents' sake, she reluctantly agreed to the marriage.The wedding plans sparked joy, but darkness loomed. A longtime maid in Rahul's household was found brutally murdered, her body riddled with stab wounds. Rahul, shaken, vowed to catch the killer, assuming it was the work of his enemies. The police launched an investigation, but soon, similar murders plagued the city滴水成冰, the chilling tale unfolds.When Rahul discovers Priya sneaking out at night, he follows her, only to witness a horrifying sight: Priya, covered in blood, mercilessly killing a man. The innocent girl he loves is a monster. At the hospital, doctors reveal Priya has a dual personality—by night, she becomes Riya, a cruel, bloodthirsty alter ego unaware of her own existence. Devastated but unwavering, Rahul stands by her, determined to heal her fractured mind with his love.Alisha's pulse raced as she read. This role—Priya and Riya—demanded everything: raw vulnerability, chilling menace, and heart-wrenching depth. Could she pull it off? If she nailed it, Riya could catapult her from Karnataka's darling to a national icon. But failure would mean ridicule, especially under Samrat's judgmental gaze.
Alisha sat curled up on her couch, the script for Riya spread across her lap. The psychological thriller's twisted tale of dual identities gripped her, both thrilling and terrifying. This role—Priya, the innocent girl, and Riya, her ruthless alter ego—was unlike anything she'd tackled. Her first two films had won hearts in Karnataka, but this was her third, a make-or-break moment in an industry that devoured newcomers without a film dynasty to back them. Star kids waltzed into roles; outsiders like Alisha clawed their way up, every misstep a potential career-ender.Her fans adored her, their expectations a heavy crown. Riya demanded a performance that could silence doubters and cement her as a star beyond Bangalore. The role was daunting, a tightrope walk between vulnerability and menace. Could she deliver? Doubt gnawed at her, but Alisha thrived on challenges. She'd face this one head-on, just as she always had.Her phone buzzed, shattering her focus. "Alisha, turn on the news!" an excited voice blurted. "Your friends are all over it—worldwide!""Who?" Alisha asked, her curiosity piqued."You'll see!" the caller teased before hanging up.She grabbed the remote and flicked on the TV. A reporter's voice filled the room, buzzing with awe. "The elusive Black Squad—Storm Queen, Shadowfox, and Twilight—has struck again, apprehending a criminal in South Korea and uncovering a chilling conspiracy through a traced IP address, saving countless lives."Alisha's lips curved into a proud smile. She flipped through channels, but every station sang the same tune: the Black Squad's triumph. Her heart swelled. Few knew her secret, and she intended to keep it that way.Khushi burst into the room, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "What's got you grinning like that, Alisha?"Alisha didn't answer, her gaze fixed on the screen. Khushi plopped beside her, catching the news. "Ohhh, the Black Squad. No wonder you're beaming." She leaned closer, whispering, "Who'd believe you're besties with Storm Queen herself? Like, super close besties.""Exactly why I don't tell anyone," Alisha shot back, her tone playful but firm.Khushi laughed, handing her a steaming mug of Horlicks. "Here, your favorite."Alisha took a sip, the familiar warmth soothing her. Horlicks was her comfort, a childhood habit she'd never outgrown. Her bond with Storm Queen, forged years ago at the Black Squad's training base, was another constant. The Black Squad wasn't just a covert unit; it was a prestigious institute, training agents and civilians alike. While agents mastered deadly skills, civilians learned self-defense, martial arts, and cutting-edge tech—hacking, AI, machine learning. Alisha had enrolled to learn martial arts, her fiery spirit craving strength. There, she'd also dabbled in hacking, a skill that proved her quick mind.Trainees and agents were worlds apart, the latter's identities hidden even from students. But one day, by chance, Alisha glimpsed Storm Queen's unmasked face. Sworn to secrecy, their friendship blossomed, a rare bridge between trainee and elite operative. The Black Squad's tech was unparalleled—custom servers, data centers, and gadgets only agents could wield. Their hackers could track anyone; their fighters could fell giants. Training was brutal, transforming even the weakest into lethal warriors. Alisha had arrived timid, barely able to raise her voice. Now, she was a force, her past fragility a distant memory.Khushi stood, stretching. "Alright, dinner time. Grab Neha, let's eat. You've got work tomorrow, right?"Alisha's mood soured at the reminder of Samrat Oberoi. Grumbling, she joined Neha and Khushi for dinner, then collapsed into bed, dreading the morning.
The next day, Alisha arrived at Samrat's sprawling mansion, her nerves already frayed. He was rummaging through his car's trunk, his tailored suit accentuating his commanding presence. "Good morning, boss," she said, forcing a smile.He didn't look up. "You're late. Why?""Traffic," she muttered, bracing for a lecture."First time, so I'll let it slide," he said, his tone clipped. "But don't make it a habit."Alisha rolled her eyes, her attitude flaring. "Fine. What's the job?"Samrat's gaze met hers, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "My friend Sheila's inside. She's exhausted from working out with me all night. Go bathe her."Alisha's jaw tightened, fury bubbling. "If your Sheila's tired from your workout, bathe her yourself. I'm not doing it!"He chuckled, his expression turning serious. "I'm your boss, Alisha. You're my assistant. You do what I say, or you know the consequences. Go."Her temper flared, but she stomped inside, his smug grin burning into her mind. Alisha wasn't one to bow to orders—submission wasn't in her vocabulary. But Samrat held a debt over her, a favor too big to ignore. He'd saved a life, one endangered because of her mistake. That debt chained her, forcing her to swallow her pride.Inside, she searched for Sheila, finding no one. Frustrated, she called Samrat, still by his car. "There's no Sheila here, or anyone else!""Check the treadmill," he replied casually.She stormed to the gym, spotting a dog trotting on the treadmill. "There's just a dog!" she snapped."That's Sheila," Samrat said, unfazed. "He's a boy, but he loves Sheila Ki Jawani, so that's his name. He's my friend's dog, staying with me while he's away. You'll take care of him—daily baths, the works."Alisha gaped. "What? He doesn't even look like a girl!""Doesn't matter," Samrat said. "Keep him clean. Got it?""Fine," she growled, hanging up. "What a nightmare," she muttered. Alisha loathed pets—dogs, cats, anything domesticated. Her wild spirit craved lions, not lapdogs. Approaching the dog warily, she crouched. "Hi, Sheila."The dog barked, startled by her unfamiliar face. Alisha flinched, backing away. "Why're you acting like him? Be a good dog!" Digging through her bag, she found an Oreo packet. "Look, I brought you a treat. Friends now, okay?" She waved the biscuit, and Sheila calmed, his eyes fixed on the snack. Alisha sighed in relief. "Thank God."She led him to the garden, fumbling with a hose to bathe him. Neha and Khushi loved pets, but Alisha's aversion had kept their apartment animal-free. She had no clue how to wash a dog but managed, drying him off and presenting him to Samrat, who lounged on a sofa, engrossed in his laptop. "Your Sheila's ready," she announced.Samrat glanced at the dog. "Good. Bathe him daily. I don't care if you stay clean, but he does.""Whatever," Alisha muttered."Now, make me a mango juice," he added. "Not too icy, not too warm—medium."Alisha glared. "Am I your servant? You said assistant, not maid!""Oh, right," Samrat said, smirking. "Forgot to mention—you're working here, not the office, from now on.""Why?" she demanded."I've got three secretaries handling the office," he said. "You'd just sit there, and I can't stand idle hands.""But this is maid work!" she protested."My maids are on leave," he said smoothly. "You'll manage."Her blood boiled, her fists itching to wipe that smirk off his face. But she bit her tongue and stormed to the kitchen, cursing under her breath.Samrat scrolled through his laptop, pausing on a news article about the Black Squad. His eyes narrowed, intrigued. Then Alisha's phone, left on the table, buzzed. The screen flashed "Mummy." Glancing at the kitchen, he saw Alisha busy. He grabbed the phone and strode toward her.In the kitchen, he handed it over. Alisha's face hardened at the caller ID. She answered, her voice cold. "Hello?""Alisha, where are you?" her mother's voice came through, tinged with frustration."At work," Alisha said, her tone rough. "What is it?""You've been in Bangalore all this time and haven't come home," her mother snapped. "Your grandparents keep asking about you. We saw on the news your third movie's shooting starts next week. You're our daughter, yet we learn about you from TV and social media. Your apartment's three stops from home, but you don't even glance our way. You didn't come for the festival either."Alisha listened in silence, her jaw tight.Her mother's voice rose. "Fine, stay there. Live alone." The call ended with a furious click.Alisha exhaled shakily, lowering the phone. Her family ties were a frayed thread, the pain evident in her eyes. She turned, freezing as she saw Samrat standing there, watching her intently.
What secrets does Storm Queen hold, and how deep is her bond with Alisha? Will Alisha bend to Samrat's humiliating demands, or will her fiery spirit spark rebellion? And what dark rift keeps Alisha estranged from her family, even as her star rises? As the Black Squad's legend grows and Alisha's world teeters, truths lurk in the shadows, ready to unravel.