Helo people (sunshiness)

Your ashi this side !!

Here's the chapter one of the book with which I am kind of satisfied for now [Mjk krri hu]

Thee next chapter will be updated by 15 june evening or by next morning..

I wasn't kind of satisfied by previous chapters so yeah here's the one from which I am gonna continue.

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AUTHOR'S POV

The corridors of the Law University of Milan echoed with the quiet kind of chaos—heels clicking on the marble, whispered conversations blending into the hum of ambition, and the occasional sharp slam of a locker from someone already done with first-day politeness. She walked straight through it, clutching her laptop like it was armor, eyes forward, pretending this was her dream.

But it wasn't.

It was hers.

IRAYA POV

The dream university—my mother's dream. The place she once wanted me to own. She said it would shape me into a woman who wouldn't just scream when wronged, but one who would fight—intelligently, brutally, legally. A woman who would stand in courtrooms and tear monsters apart.

But me?

I didn't come here to chase dreams. I came here to bury memories.

As I passed the library section, that smell hit me—the ancient perfume of old, rotting paper and too much silence. Fuck, that scent always made my skin crawl. The thought of sitting quietly with a book for hours? Torture.

The library was a prison without bars.

A place where emotions are forbidden and voices die before they're born.

Just like what happened to her.

I used to think justice was something the strong fought for.

Turns out, the strong just survive.

I was nine when I saw it—my mother, standing in the kitchen, speaking softly but burning with pain. She had told me that in India, when women are raped, people light candles and walk. As if fire ever scared a monster. As if the warm glow of wax can undo a cold-blooded crime.

"Justice doesn't come from candle marches," she said.

"It comes from rage that knows how to speak the law's language."

But I never got to see her speak it.

She burned, quietly, every day. And I was too young to know I was watching someone slowly die on the inside.

My brothers knew.

They shouted, fought, slammed doors.

But me?

I was the dumb kid still coloring cards for Mother's Day.

That day—we had balloons, cake, everything.

Until we saw her being dragged into the house.

By him.

Our father.

Because he'd lost a gamble.

And to pay his debt, he offered her body.

Six men. One woman. A fucking bet.

And we were the chips on the floor, watching it all unfold like a horror movie without a pause button.

My elder brother stood in front of her like a goddamn warrior.

Bhai didn't care he was just a teenager.

He fought back. Said she wasn't an object.

And that day, dad made him pay for saying that.

A leather belt. Hours of screaming. My brother's back marked like a battlefield.

I banged on the door until my hands bled.

I screamed until my voice cracked.

But no one saved him.

No one saved her.

No one saved me.

I thought things would change.

He gave me a promise once. On my birthday.

"Don't hurt Mumma and Bhai again, Papa," I whispered, holding out my pinky.

He promised.

He smiled.

He kissed my forehead.

He gave me a dollhouse.

And then one night... he smashed that promise with the same hand that fed us lies.

That night stole everything from me—my mother, my brother's light, my childhood.

Since then, eye contact with any man feels like stepping on broken glass barefoot. I don't trust it. I don't like it. I don't need it.

And I sure as hell didn't come here for it.

Lost in thoughts, I didn't notice her until I collided right into her shoulder.

"I'm so sor—"

Laughter. Familiar and annoying.

I looked up.

"I Take my sorry back, bitch."

I said as my eyes rolled so hard they almost fell out of my skull.

It was her.

Kashi.

My day-one. My dumbass best friend. The only person who knows every unfiltered part of me and vice versa.

"Damn, you looked good saying sorry," she cackled, flipping her hair.

I smacked her arm.

"I'll make sure to make you regret that, bitch." She said caressing her arm.

"I'll be waiting, donkey."

We walked toward the lecture halls, bickering like always.

"You know I talked to him yesterday," she whispered suddenly, cheeks turning red.

Oh no. Not him.

She was blushing like an idiot, hiding her face behind her hands like a schoolgirl.

"He talks to me daily," I said deadpan, watching her face changing from happy to horror like I just announced he was getting married.

"I hate him," she declared dramatically, tears in her eyes.

"He's my brother, Kashi."

"So what? He's my crush too!"

I groaned. "The same crush who's friend-zoning your ass?"

Her face cracked. Like I just stepped on her dreams with combat boots.

"Unlike you, at least I have interest in men," she jabbed.

"And unlike you, I'm not being friend-zoned by my own best friend's brother."

Boom. Silence. Mic drop.

She shut up and walked beside me, murmuring curses under her breath.

"Kutti harami bhen ki pakodi," she mumbled like a broken record.

(Bitch bastard sister's fritter)

"Maine konsa teri mummy chhed di a, why are you cursing me like that?" I shot back.

[When did I teased your mother?]

She turned to me with real tears now.

Shit.

Actual tears.

Fuck Iraya.

Fuck yourself iraya.

"I didn't know this day would come... when my best friend would...be chheding my mummy." She sobbed dramatically, holding her chest.

"Why the fuck are you so sensitive?" I muttered, handing her a tissue.

"Because I have you, kaju katli," she sniffled.

"Please don't call me kaju katli, pehle hi bohot baar kat chuka hai mera."

(Don't call me kaju katli, I have been cutting off many times before)

She giggled. "I'll give you 50 rupees for that pain."

She skipped ahead while I stood there, stunned.

"She's not my Kashi anymore," I mumbled. "I'm the hurt one now."

AUTHOR'S POV

They parted ways—different first lectures, same college. Same scam.

College is just a business deal disguised as dreams.

Iraya slumped into the last bench of her class like she owned it, legs stretched, attitude on full volume. Pulled out her laptop, opened it, and began pretending to care about orientation slides.

What she didn't notice was a man's eyes burning into her through a phone screen.

Watching her.

Tracking her.

The hallway outside buzzed, but one figure walked through it like a storm in a suit.

Sharp jaw. Slick hair. A predator's calm.

Eyes locked on a single person inside the room.

Not the room. Not the class.

Her.

The Head of the Department walked in first, his voice filling the air.

"Attention students! We welcome a new professor today, renowned for his insight into criminal psychology and case observation."

He gestured behind him.

Students clapped, already whispering.

He stepped in. Dark suit. Subtle cologne. Unholy aura.

But his eyes?

Fixed only on her.

And she...

She didn't look up. Still lost in her screen.

Until—

"Miss Rao," he said, smirking.

She blinked.

"May I have your attention, please?"

Her eyes slowly lifted from her laptop.

She froze.

Then, she mouthed a single word.

A word not fit for classrooms. Or introductions.

"Motherfucker."

And that was the first time Professor Riccardo Abato smiled in two years.

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That's it !!

Next chapter will be out soon !!

Thoughts about Iraya?

About Kashi?

About Riccardo?

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