> Present day – Sophia is 22 years old. She’s in her royal mansion, where peace lives with her. But not for long.

Author's POV:

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The sound of laughter echoed through the marbled halls of the royal mansion.

"Aye Soph! Come here! Zayan’s trying to cook again—he just burnt the eggs!” Chris’s voice rang from the kitchen.

“Oye, main chef hoon yahan ka!” Zayan shouted, holding a half-charred omelet on a golden spatula.

Sophia chuckled from the lounge, flipping a file closed. She was dressed in a sharp black blazer, barefoot, sipping chai. Her long hair was tied in a messy bun, and the sparkle in her eyes was back—finally.

She had her family now. Chris, her brother—her blood. Aarav and Zayan—her brothers by heart. And two others in their squad who made her feel like a little sister again. She was healing.

But that peace—was about to shatter.

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A royal guard stepped in quietly, clearing his throat. “princess Sophia, His Majesty has invited... guests.”

She frowned.“Guests?”

Chris looked up too “What guests? He didn’t tell me anything.”

Sophia stood, confused “Who are they?”

The guard paused“They’re... students. From your Indian school, madam. From when you were called Dhwani.”

Her fingers went cold. Her mug slipped from her hand—shattering on the floor. Her heartbeat exploded in her chest.

“Woh log…” she whispered.

Aarav was next to her in a second “Soph, look at me. Breathe. You’re safe.”

She wasn’t listening. Her vision blurred.

Laughter from a corridor echoed—familiar voices. Voices from hell.

“Yeh toh wahi hai na... Dhwani?”
"Remember how she cried that day in school?"

Her body went still. Cold sweat. Her legs froze.

Zayan stepped between her and the doorway, eyes dark with rage“Who let them in?!”

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And just like that… her world—the one she built with her bare hands—crumbled into memories.

Memories of stares.
Of whispers.
Of that boy.
Of betrayal.

Of a classroom that became a courtroom.
Of fake friends.
Of pain.

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Aarav grabbed her shoulders gently “Say it. Tell us. We’re here.”

She whispered, barely audible, “I want them out.”

Chris’s jaw clenched “I’ll take care of it.”

But before anyone could move—

“Let them stay,” came another voice.

It was NICK. The masked bodyguard, leaning in the shadows by the pillar. Voice low. Calm. Dangerous.

Sophia turned to him, shocked.

His mask was still on. As always.

“Let them see who you are now,” he said.

“Let them see the queen they broke, standing taller than ever.”

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To be continued…