The news was everywhere, there was no escaping it and it broke her each time she heard it; she had thought she would not be effected by anything that happened to him, after all he did betray her but then her heart refused to heed to reason.

'SP Vijay Chauhan killed in an ambush, suspected to be a revenge killing for his role in the capture  and subsequent encounter of the notorious Don, Ashwin Manya,'

They should have asked her, she could tell them, it was a revenge mission, the signs were all there. And she would know, even if she had no hand in them, after all there had to be some advantage to being the daughter of the said Don, but that was in another lifetime. Now, she was just a woman's daughter, whose identity was in doubt and whose life was in jeopardy, partly on account of SP Vijay Chauhan.

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Her first brush with reality came when she met him, or rather heard him. A whistle, a stern admonishment from one of her father's associates and his sullen retort, "She is the favourite bastard of his special mistress?"

Those words had caused the first crack in the sheltered glass wall that she was surrounded with, it was the first betrayal as she learnt the possibility of her birth. She had been told that her mother had died when she was just a baby, but neither the circumstance of her death nor any mention of who her mother had been was told to her. In her adoration for her father, she never even bothered to pay attention to the women who worked for her father. 

She had lived up to the tag of being a spoilt rich girl, with too much money and power, fast cars and a pampered lifestyle.  She had few friends, if the couple of girls that she usually hung out in college could be called that, but there had never been a dearth of followers and worshipers; she enjoyed their adulation and basked in the warmth of the admiration her wealth brought her. There were always whispered rumours as to how her businessman father, always dressed in power suits and perpetually attending conferences, made his money, but she chose to ignore them.  

After that moment, there was an unwilling perception in her, as she slowly pieced together who she was. 

The rumours were indeed just rumours, the truth was far more dangerous. Her father was not only a notorious gang leader, but also the underling who was responsible for the murder of the old don, his mentor and her grandfather. Her mother, who had been wooed and married to her father, had later learnt that she was a pawn in the game of power between her father and grandfather. It had turned her world upside down when he came to know that her mother had been killed when trying to run away so that her daughter would not have to grow up like she did. She had been devastated to learn about her parents, and the truth scared her as it made her question each of her assumptions.

It was then, when she was at her lowest, that he stepped into her life again. He could be a junior ranking member in her father's company of but he was different, his constant politeness towards her was a startling contrast to his first time observation of her. His apology had melted her antagonism and she agreed to forgive him, which was the start of their friendship. One, which for her, was the beginning of new chapter in her life, for him it was only a means to an end. 

That revelation was her second betrayal.

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Jai Rawat sat in the crowded airport, alone and lost. He had only one mission and with the completion of it, he was adrift, wondering what life had in store for him. The perpetual haunting of a large pair of brown eyes, filled with admiration and love, did not give him peace either, she was out of his league. Nor was his behaviour towards her forgivable. 

His father had been a police constable, killed while on traffic duty, by an over enthusiastic Ashwin Manya, not because his father had angered him or crossed his path, that might have give some reason to the killing, even if it sounded incongruous. Instead PC Rawat had been killed only because Manya had wanted to proved to his mentor that he could kill without compunction or hesitation. While his mother had accepted it with her usual pragmatism and focused on bringing up her son, Jai could never forget it and had only one goal, to destroy the man who had killed his father. 

It would have been an unachievable goal if he had not met ACP Anurag Chauhan, his father's erstwhile boss, a man with a similar desire and his son, SP Vijay Chauhan. It would have been impossible but for a quirk of fate, a rainy day and a motorcycle with failed brakes. As Vijay slipped into coma, Jai had stepped into Ashwin Manya's world, as an undercover cop.

A subfertage that he played for four years, while the real Vijay Chauhan stayed in coma, flitting between the world of life and death.

It was a double game, where Jai and Anurag, played in shadows with both the police department and Manya's associates. A strategy that enabled them to act with far greater freedom than one would have while working within purview of the law. A role that gave Jai greater leverage when dealing with Manya and his associates, a reckless and dangerous gamble that paid off when he had garnered enough evidence and trust to conduct the surprise raid. 

A raid that had taken them unawares and had held to the capture of Manya and a few of his trusted lieutenants, except one, Nathu Mama, the most loyal of Manya's henchmen. Jai had let him go, for he knew that, despite what everyone else believed, Nathuram's primary loyalty was towards Manya's daughter. 

A couple of months later, in accordance with their original plan, Manya was shot dead in an encounter.

It would have been perfect but for her, Pooja Manya, the innocent and naive daughter of Ashwin Manya. The one he had wooed with the intention of using her against her father, the one whom he had fallen in love with and helped her escape on the night the raid had taken place. It had not gone well with either Anurag nor the police department, but he did not care, he had enough of betraying someone's trust.

With Vijay's death, the need for Jai to take his place had also come to an end and he was conveniently 'killed off', his death staged as a revenge killing by Nathuram, which would give him a new lease of life, one that he had accepted.

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Pooja Manya was dead, or rather she had killed her; that naive girl, foolish enough to believe her father was a businessman, rather was a legitimate businessman and not one who dealt in drug and human trafficking. She was no longer that stupid girl who had believed the devil to be an angel in disguise and had entrusted her heart to him, only to learn that Jai was actually Vijay Chauhan, an undercover cop, bent on destroying her father and who had not hesitated to use her as a pawn. 

She was now Anjali Mehta, a woman with a new identity on the verge of embarking on a new life, yet her heart still yearned for him. She should hate him for cheating her, be upset for he was responsible for her father's death, however, justified that was, be angry for making her start afresh, yet all she could do was miss him. 

She looked at her bags, just two of them, too little luggage for someone leaving the country forever, hoping to start life afresh, but then the baggage she carried would more than make up for that. Anjali looked at Nathu Mama, the man who had loved her since she had been born, and whom she suspected also still loved her mother, loyalty such as his could only find root in deep love. However, while she acknowledged his role in keeping her safe, she would be angry with him too, for even if he refuted it she knew that he must have had a hand in the killing of Vijay. It did not matter what his reasons were, it did not matter that Jai or Vijay or whatever his real name was had no feelings for her, she knew she could never love another. 

Nathuram seemed aware of her conflicted thoughts, for he said, "I know what you think and while you think it is unforgivable, I would say the everything you see or hear is not real. Keep that in mind, there is a reason why Vijay had to die, that is the only way Jai could live."

Anjali was perturbed, he seemed to be speaking in riddles and what he said next only confused her further. But when he held out his arms for a hug, she could not refuse him, she had always adored him. She gave him one last hug, they would never meet again, that was the only way she could leave her roots and identity behind. 

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Anjali walked towards the seating area, to wait for her flight; lost in her thoughts she bumped into someone and would have fallen if he had not held her arms. Her embarrassed gratitude turned to shock when she looked into a familiar pair of brown eyes, one that were as unbelieving as hers were. 

He recovered first though she was the first to blurt out, "You lied to me about everything, who you are, what your intentions were, everything was a lie. Even your death was a lie..."

"I did not lie to you about my name, I am Jai. Nor is it a lie that Vijay Chauhan, ACP Chauhan's son is dead. However, I am guilty of lying to you when I said that I did not love you. I do..."

"See, you agree that you are a liar and now you expect me..." she stopped when she realised what exactly he said and then whispered, "You love me?"

He nodded, "It is all a long story and we do have a long flight together. Maybe we can start afresh and on a clean slate?"

When she did not say a word nor walk away, he spoke, "Hello, I am Jai Rawat,.

He waited, hoping she would stay and fearing that she would turn back on him. She stared at his face, as though searching for some assurance and then remembered what her Mamu had said, 'Trust me, I know what I am doing and listen to me, you could meet someone from your old life who could want a second chance. If your heart agrees, give them that chance, maybe you will find happiness too.'

She smiled, as she understood what Nathu mama had been trying to say, and held out her hand, "Anjali Mehta. And yes, it is a long journey, it would nice to talk to you."

Word count 1880

This is my entry for prompt by the profile action. I think it reads like a typical Bollywood potboiler, all it needs are a half a dozen of so inopportune songs and a couple of dream sequences (one during a chase when Pooja is running for her life)

And for those not familiar with India, Mamu is the word to address one's maternal uncle, though also used as a colloquial reference to a dangerous person, especially in the higher hierarchy.

Prompt: "Lets just say there are numerous OBSTACLES in the way of love. Especially when a brave young cop falls for the mischievous daughter of a notorious gang lord..."

The story had to be written in 2000 words or less.