Chapter 64 – Breaking the Web

Mission Breakthrough

Veeresh sat in the dim interrogation room, arms crossed, eyes like burning steel. Across from him, a man trembled—a middle-aged accountant, caught red-handed with ledgers and bank transfers linking him to the trafficking chain. The man had been loyal to someone powerful.

“Talk,” Veeresh ordered, voice calm but dangerous.

“I… I can’t… they’ll kill me.”

Veeresh slammed his fist on the table, leaning closer, his voice low. “They’ll kill you anyway. But if you tell me the truth, I’ll give you something they never can—life.”

Finally, the man broke. “It’s… it’s not your brothers. They’re clean. Their names… were used as shields. It’s someone else in the family’s circle. Someone very close.”

Veeresh froze, his chest tightening. Not my brothers? Then who the hell is it?

The betrayal cut deeper than a knife. His anger boiled—at being misled, at wasting months, at nearly accusing his own blood. He stormed out of the room, eyes wild with rage and confusion. For the first time in years, Veeresh Raj felt like he was losing control.

And in that storm of emotions, his heart knew only one refuge.

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That Night – Rai Mansion

It was midnight when Poornima stirred, sensing something. The balcony door creaked open, and a tall figure slipped inside. Before she could speak, she was pulled against a strong chest, his lips crashing onto hers in a kiss so deep, so desperate, it stole her breath.

“Veeresh…” she whispered, her tears spilling as she clutched him.

He kissed her again, harder, pressing her back against the wall, as if trying to erase the distance of months. His hands trembled as they cupped her face, then slid down to her shoulders, her waist, finally resting on her small baby bump.

For the first time, he let the walls break. His voice cracked against her lips.

“Nothing… nothing is going right. I feel like I’m holding dead hands everywhere. Lies, betrayal, shadows—I don’t know who to trust anymore.”

Poornima took his face in her hands, her thumbs wiping away the anger shining in his eyes. She guided his hand firmly over her belly and whispered, her tone soft yet unshakable,

“Then feel this life. This heartbeat. This is real, Veeresh. This is truth. Yours, mine, and our baby’s. Whatever the world throws, here you will never feel dead hands. Only life. Only love.”

His breathing hitched. He pressed his forehead against hers, his hand gripping her belly protectively as tears finally spilled down his face.

“You always… make me breathe again,” he whispered brokenly.

Poornima smiled through her tears, kissing his forehead gently. “Because your heart beats inside me too. And it will keep beating in our baby.”

That night, Veeresh stayed with her, not as the cold spy or professor, but as a man who had found his anchor again. In her arms, he allowed himself to feel weak, to feel human. And in her embrace, he found strength again.