The Diamond Code

Aryan’s car raced through the nearly deserted streets of Mumbai, the city a blur of neon lights and distant honking. The cool night air rushed in through the open window, but it did nothing to clear his mind.

Because his mind wasn’t on the road.

It was on her.

Rhea Mehta.

The one variable he hadn’t accounted for.

She wasn’t supposed to matter. She was just another piece in the puzzle—one that connected, somehow, to the stolen diamond. His instincts told him there was more to her story than what was on the surface, and instincts were what had kept him alive all these years.

And yet… she was slipping under his skin in a way that had nothing to do with the mission.

His earpiece crackled, yanking him out of his thoughts.

“She left.”

Neha’s voice was sharp as if she was just stating a matter-of-fact.

Aryan’s jaw tightened. “What?”

“Rhea. She paid for her drink and walked out. If you were hoping for a second date, you screwed it up.”

Aryan’s grip on the steering wheel hardened. This wasn’t about the damn date.

It was about the mission. The case. The stolen diamond that wasn’t just a stolen diamond. It was a key—one that unlocked something far more dangerous.

And for some reason, Rhea’s past was tangled in all of this.

Which meant he couldn’t let her go.

Not yet.

“Tell me about the lead.”

Neha sighed, but she didn’t push further. “Warehouse in Navi Mumbai. Sources say something’s being moved tonight—connected to the diamond.”

Aryan exhaled sharply. Another dead end? Or another trap?

He had a bad feeling about this one.

“Send me the location,” he said, shifting gears.

One last job. One last chase.

And then?

Maybe he could stop thinking about her.

Maybe.

---

The next morning, Rhea buried herself in work.

Deadlines. Clients. Emails. A to-do list longer than she could wrap her head around.

And yet—

Aryan Khanna kept slipping into her mind.

Not because she cared. Nope. Definitely not.

It was just bothering her that she didn’t have an answer.

Why had he left?

Had she misread him completely?

Was he married? A secret agent? A serial killer?

Rhea groaned and pressed her fingers against her temples. Get a grip, Rhea.

Her phone buzzed, dragging her back to reality.

Nisha.

Rhea almost let it go to voicemail, but knowing her best friend, that would only lead to a flood of texts.

“I’m not in the mood,” she muttered, picking up.

“Oh, you’ll want to hear this.”

Rhea frowned. “What now?”