Chapter 0037: The First Strike
Silence gripped the city after Zara's explosive press conference, but it wasn't the calm of peace—it was the breath before a storm.
Within twenty-four hours, international media had picked up the story. Social media lit up with hashtags supporting Zara. Government officials scrambled to issue statements. And while some hailed her bravery, others… stayed ominously quiet.
Ryan watched her from across the suite. She hadn't slept. Barely eaten. Yet her resolve was unwavering.
"Elif said they traced movement," he said gently, handing her a tablet. "A former intelligence asset of Mehra's landed in Istanbul hours ago. They think he's here… now."
Zara scrolled through the blurred airport footage. A tall figure in black. No facial ID. No luggage. Just shadows wrapped in skin.
"Why is he coming himself?" she asked.
Ryan didn't blink. "Because you lit the fuse. He thinks cutting you off will kill the fire."
A sudden vibration on Zara's phone. A message. No number.
"The world may love your story. But remember—love doesn't make you bulletproof."
Her breath caught.
Seconds later, all the lights in the suite flickered. Then darkness.
"Elif, report!" Ryan barked into his comms.
Static.
And then—a flash of light. Not from the lamps, but from the street below.
The building opposite theirs exploded into flames. Screams filled the air. Sirens howled into the night.
Zara clutched the windowsill, staring in horror.
"That was a media outlet," Ryan said, eyes darkening. "The one that published your files first."
Zara's voice was quiet but laced with fire. "He's not just targeting me. He's making a statement."
"And so will we," Tariq said, entering with armed security. "We move you tonight. And we go public with everything—every file, every name, every account. We flood the world."
Zara nodded, steel in her voice. "Let the light blind him."
But as they prepared to move, another message came through.
This time, it wasn't a threat.
It was a name.
Saira.
Zara's little sister.
Her hands trembled. "He's not after me. He's going after the people I love."
Ryan's jaw clenched. "Then we protect them. All of them."
Zara's eyes turned to fire. "No. We end this. I'm not hiding anymore. He wants a war?"
She stepped into the light, her shadow fierce and tall behind her.
"Then I'll give him one."
The night had barely caught its breath after the blast, but inside a secure Istanbul safe house, war councils were forming.
Zara sat at the head of the room, her hair tied back, sleeves rolled up, fury and focus written across every feature. Maps, documents, and encrypted laptops cluttered the table. Around her sat Ryan, Tariq, Elif, and an elite cybersecurity expert named Nadia, freshly flown in from Zurich.
"We need to find Saira. Now," Zara ordered, eyes darting across the digital displays.
"She was last seen boarding a flight to London two days ago," Elif confirmed. "She never arrived. The airline marked it as a no-show, but we have CCTV of her entering the terminal."
"Which means someone intercepted her," Ryan muttered. "They're bold. Very bold."
Nadia leaned forward, fingers flying across the keyboard. "I've started tracing bank activity linked to the dummy accounts Mehra used. One of them just pinged… a wire transfer made to a private airfield in the Balkans."
Tariq's voice dropped. "That's mercenary territory. If she's there, we can't risk going in blind."
Zara stood, her voice unshaking. "Then we don't. We go in loud. We make noise. We make him panic."
Ryan looked at her, admiration mixing with concern. "What's your plan?"
Zara turned to the board behind her and wrote one word:
"Disclosure."
She faced them. "We release it all. Names, accounts, deals, threats. Everything Mehra's been doing for a decade. We don't just expose him—we turn the world against him."
Nadia nodded. "We can trigger an automatic info dump to the top media houses and international watchdogs. But we'll need a public face to go with it."
"I'll do it," Zara said without hesitation. "But not from a studio. From Lahore. On my land. Let him know I'm not running anymore."
The room fell silent.
Tariq was the first to speak. "That's insane. And bold. And exactly what will drive him over the edge."
"Good," she replied. "Let him break. Because I'm done bending."
Later that night, as they finalized the details of Operation Disclosure, Ryan pulled Zara aside.
"You don't have to carry the world to prove your strength."
She met his gaze. "I'm not. I'm carrying my truth. And it's about time the world saw it."
Outside, the storm brewed.
Inside, the queen prepared her final move.
Lahore. The city buzzed as usual — rickshaws humming, vendors shouting, and the scent of spicy street food thick in the air. But this time, Zara didn't arrive in the shadows.
She arrived in full view.
The press gathered outside the ancestral Dar Mansion, their cameras flashing as Zara stepped from the armored black SUV. Ryan was at her side, silent but solid. Behind them, a team of private security moved like ghosts.
Zara stood still at the gate for a moment, her eyes scanning the mansion she had once called home — now reclaimed not just in name, but in spirit.
She turned to the cameras. "My name is Zara Dar. I am here to tell the truth."
The broadcast went live within minutes. Around the world, millions tuned in. She stood on the steps of the mansion, wearing a simple white kameez, no jewelry — just her presence.
"Years ago, my silence was bought with fear. But today, I speak not just for myself, but for every woman, every victim, who was silenced by power, wealth, and legacy."
She laid it all bare — Mehra's manipulations, the abuse of financial systems, the international corruption. Names. Numbers. Facts.
The world watched, shocked.
Mehra watched too — from a remote Balkan bunker, the video playing on loop.
He hurled a glass against the wall. "She wants a war? I'll give her one."
Back in Lahore, after the cameras turned off, Zara walked through the halls of her family home. Dust clung to old portraits, memories whispered in the walls.
Ryan followed her into the study. "You just lit a fuse, Zara."
"I know," she whispered, placing a hand on an old photo of her parents. "But I'm ready for the fire."
The silence between them spoke volumes.
In the distance, the city's call to prayer echoed.
And for the first time in years, Zara didn't feel like she was running.
She was standing. At the center of everything. Unshaken.
The secluded villa in the Balkans was silent, save for the low hum of encrypted communication equipment. Mehra sat in a leather chair, his knuckles white around a tumbler of aged scotch, eyes glued to the news playing on the screen.
Zara's face.
Zara's voice.
Zara's truth.
"She thinks the world will save her," he muttered.
Across the room, his most trusted fixer — Viktor — stood with a tablet in hand. "We've confirmed. Her statement has triggered an international task force. Your accounts in Dubai, Geneva, and Singapore have been frozen."
Mehra didn't flinch. "What about Dar Mansion?"
"Surrounded by private security. Ryan Whitmore's team has reinforced the property. She's protected. For now."
Mehra stood, exuding the calm of a man who had survived more than one empire's collapse. "Then we'll hit where it hurts most — not with guns. With exposure."
He handed Viktor a sealed envelope.
"Deliver this to The Tribune. Make sure it leaks tonight."
Viktor hesitated. "This will destroy reputations. Possibly hers too."
Mehra smiled darkly. "She declared war. I'm merely retaliating."
Lahore – Midnight
Zara couldn't sleep. Not after what she'd done.
She stood on the mansion's rooftop, gazing at the skyline — her city. Her battlefield. Ryan appeared beside her, silently handing her a mug of chamomile tea.
"I can't tell if it's quiet… or too quiet," she murmured.
He nodded. "The quiet before a storm always feels like that."
Just then, her phone buzzed.
An anonymous email.
Subject: Truth for a Truth.
Zara clicked it open. Attached was a scanned document — one she never expected to see again.
Her late father's signature.
On a forged property deal.
A voice memo followed. Mehra's voice.
"Your father wasn't innocent, Zara. He built your empire on lies. Now I'll burn it down with the truth."
Zara's fingers shook. She looked at Ryan, who had already started scanning the document.
"Do you believe this?" he asked.
"I… I don't know." Her voice broke.
"Then we find out. Fast."
Because this war wasn't just about power anymore.
It was about identity.
And truth — even when weaponized — still had to be faced.
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(To be Continue...)