Samaira stirred gently, the warmth of the soft sheets wrapping around her as she blinked her eyes open. The room was quiet, bathed in the early morning light filtering through the curtains. She stretched, her thoughts lazily drifting to the events of the previous day. Her lips curled into a small smile as she considered how Advait must have carried her back to her room after she’d fallen asleep in the car after all the chaos which had happened yesterday. She had told her friends not to think about it much as for then she too didn't't have any certain answers.

But her smile faded as flashes of the previous evening rushed back—the chaos, the danger, and most vividly, the moment Advait had leaned in to apply the ointment to her neck. His touch had been careful, almost tender, and the way his dark eyes softened when he looked at her… It was unlike anything she had ever expected from him.

A faint blush colored her cheeks, and she shook her head quickly. What are you doing, Samaira? Don’t overthink this. She pushed herself out of bed, shaking off the remnants of sleep, and headed to the washroom to freshen up.

Once she was ready, Samaira returned to her room and picked up her phone. The news headlines caught her attention immediately.

"Hotel Terrorist Attack: All Hostages Safe, Terrorists in Custody" the headline blared. Her eyes scanned the article eagerly. The news confirmed that every hostage was safe, with no casualties, and the attackers were either captured or neutralized. Strangely, the report mentioned that none of the hostages had revealed who saved them, leaving the story shrouded in mystery.

Setting her phone aside, she allowed herself a moment to think. The tension from the attack was still fresh, but something about the article soothed her nerves. Advait’s words from long ago echoed in her mind: “If anyone dares to lay a finger on you, I’ll wipe out everything they hold dear.”

Her eyes clouded briefly as memories surged forth. She remembered how ruthless he had been in his dealings, how unyielding his resolve was when it came to her safety. A shiver ran down her spine, not from fear, but from the weight of his promise.

And he had delivered.

The terrorist organization responsible for the attack was now wiped off the map. The news channels buzzed with reports that the group had been dismantled entirely—its key operatives captured or killed. Intelligence had been leaked, exposing their bases and major operations. The head of the organization, whose murder had initially sparked the chaos, was now revealed to be part of a broader conspiracy. The meticulous precision with which Advait had orchestrated the takedown left no doubt in her mind. He had ensured there would be no loose ends.

“You’ll burn the world for me, won’t you, Advait?” she thought, a pang of guilt and awe gripping her heart.

A small smile touched Samaira’s lips. Maybe Advait really does have his reasons, she thought. Maybe he’s not as bad as I thought.

Setting her phone aside, Samaira moved to her laptop. A plan was forming in her mind, one that she hoped would express her gratitude. She booked two tickets to the snow park—a place she remembered Advait had once mentioned fondly, back when things were simpler. It felt like the right gesture to show her appreciation.

Satisfied, she headed toward the kitchen.

The moment she stepped inside, the quiet hum of activity came to an abrupt halt. The servants froze mid-action, their eyes widening in surprise at the sight of her.

“Madam… you shouldn’t be here,” one of them stammered, his tone unsure but respectful.

Samaira gave them a reassuring smile, brushing past their surprise. “I’ll need all the ingredients for breakfast—eggs, vegetables, bread, and spices,” she said, her tone calm but firm. “After that, help me set the table.”

The servants exchanged glances, unsure how to react. They were clearly unused to seeing her in this space. “Madam, we can cook whatever you need,” another servant offered hesitantly.

Samaira shook her head, already tying an apron around her waist. “Not today. I feel like cooking myself. Just bring me what I need.”

An older woman, with kind eyes and a gentle demeanor, stepped forward hesitantly. “Madam, are you sure? This is our work. You don’t need to trouble yourself.”

Samaira paused, turning to face her. “What’s your name?”

The woman blinked in surprise. “Savita,” she said quietly.

“Well, Savita ji, you don’t need to call me ‘Madam.’ I’m almost your daughter’s age, aren’t I?” Samaira asked with a warm smile.

Savita hesitated, her hands nervously clutching the edge of her sari. “Yes, but—”

“No ‘buts.’ You can just call me Samaira,” she said, her tone gentle but firm. “And now, if you don’t mind, I’d like your help. Could you get me the vegetables from the fridge?”

Savita looked at her uncertainly before nodding slowly. “As you say… Samaira.”

“Thank you,” Samaira said, her smile widening as she returned to her task.

The initial tension in the room eased as the other servants began to move around, gathering the requested items and sneaking curious glances her way. They brought her everything she needed, and as she worked, they stayed close, assisting her when required and marveling at how comfortable she seemed in the kitchen.

Once she was done cooking, Samaira turned to the head servant. “Please help me serve this to the dining table.”

The servants nodded, their expressions a mix of amazement and respect as they carried the dishes she had prepared. Samaira followed them, her heart feeling lighter than it had in days. Cooking had always been her way of finding peace—a small reminder of the simpler, happier times of her life.

At the dining table, the aroma of freshly cooked food greeted Advait as he walked in. He paused, his sharp gaze immediately noting the spread before him. His brows furrowed slightly as he took a seat, picking up his fork to sample the food.

He chewed thoughtfully before looking up at her. “This… tastes like your cooking,” he remarked, his voice low but tinged with surprise. “You cooked this?”

Samaira nodded, a small, almost playful smile on her lips. “I felt like it today,” she replied. “And besides, it’s a treat for you—for saving the hostages yesterday.”

Advait’s lips curved into a faint smile, something genuine and warm. “You didn’t have to,” he said, though there was no hint of complaint in his tone.

Samaira shrugged lightly. “Consider it my way of saying thank you. But that’s not all.” She paused, watching his expression carefully. “I’ve also booked two tickets to the snow park. I remember you used to love it there. If you still do, and if you’re free, I thought we could go together.”

Advait leaned back slightly, his dark eyes studying her as if trying to figure out her intentions. “Are you sure about this?” he asked after a moment, his voice skeptical.

Samaira raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t it normal to appreciate someone for doing something good? If you don’t want to come, I can always invite Aahana or Naksh.”

His gaze sharpened at her words, though his lips twitched in what might have been amusement. “You think that by doing this, you can pull me away from the mafia world, like the leads usually do in stories?” he asked, his tone teasing yet edged with something deeper.

Samaira rolled her eyes, a small laugh escaping her. “Now you’re a scriptwriter too? No, I just felt like doing something nice. If you don’t have time, that’s not an issue.”

For a moment, Advait said nothing, his gaze locked on hers. Then, a small smirk curved his lips. “Are you sure about this? I remember how much you hated the cold.”

“I don’t hate the cold,” Samaira corrected him, crossing her arms. “I just catch cold easily. But it’s only for a few hours. I’ll survive.”

Advait chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Fine,” he said, a note of amusement in his voice. “I’ll be ready by 10. And by the way, this breakfast…” He gestured to the plate in front of him. “It’s better than I expected. You should cook more often.”

Samaira smiled, feeling a small flicker of pride at his words. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said softly.

As Advait got up to leave, Samaira watched him go, her thoughts lingering on his smile and the warmth she hadn’t expected to see in his eyes. For the first time in a long time, she felt a tentative sense of peace.