The image of him holding her haunted me.
Kabir's smug smirk, those arrogant eyes that screamed victory, kept replaying in my mind like a cursed reel.
My breath came sharp, ragged.
The bathroom mirror shattered into countless shards beneath my fist, yet I felt nothing.
Not the pain, not the blood dripping down my knuckles — only the searing image of Kabir's smirk burned into my mind.
"That bastard…"
My breath came out in a low growl, eyes wild and darkening.
"He thinks he won. He thinks he can touch what's mine and walk away breathing."
The reflection that remained — jagged, broken — mocked me.
I leaned closer, whispering to myself, a vow drenched in venom.
"No, Kabir. You've started a war you cannot finish. I'll rip you apart slowly… until you beg me for death."
A sharp knock at the door cut through the chaos.
I closed my eyes, forcing calmness over the raging storm inside me.
My mask slipped back into place — the mask of Vihaan Raj Mishra , the silent king everyone feared but no one truly knew.
When I opened the door, Shashwat , Nishant , and Nakul stood there, tension etched into their faces. Nishant was scrolling on his iPad, brows furrowed.
They pushed past me silently, like predators ready to strike.
As they settled, Nakul's sharp eyes flickered to my bloodied hand. His voice was low, laced with concern.
Nakul: "Vihaan, your hand…" He gestured with a slight nod.
I glanced down — blood was dripping steadily.
Consumed by rage, I hadn't even noticed.
Without a word, I turned, stalked back to the bathroom, and poured Dettol over the wound.
The burn was sharp, grounding me, fueling my fury.
I wrapped it roughly and returned.
Nishant placed the iPad on the table.
A grainy CCTV video began to play.
Shreya… my Shreya … running through the banquet hall corridors, fear in every step.
Then Kabir appeared — calm, calculated.
He approached a security guard, slipping cash into his palm.
The video zoomed in as Kabir asked for the invitation list, his finger tracing until he stopped on Vidhi's name .
The next frame showed a woman in a blue gown whispering something to him.
The moment of realization… the moment he confirmed her identity.
The final clip… Kabir following her like a hunter stalking prey.
The room went silent.
My breath came heavier, a dangerous calm spreading through me.
"This was never coincidence," I said, voice low, lethal.
"This… was a hunt."
With a roar of fury, I slammed my fist into the sofa's metal handle.
The sound echoed through the room, my veins pulsing like live wires.
Shashwat's phone buzzed.
He immediately answered, pacing toward the balcony.
Shashwat: "Commissioner! Tell me you have updates on Harsh's bail!"
Pause.
Commissioner (on call): "The court has approved it. He'll be released tomorrow morning."
Shashwat: "Good. I want every goddamn guard there. If anything — and I mean anything — happens before he steps foot outside, you'll answer to me directly. Clear?"
He hung up sharply, face like stone.
Before we could even exhale, my phone rang.
Unknown number.
But I already knew who it was.
I answered.
The other end went silent for a beat… then that voice — smug, taunting.
Kabir: "I guess Vihaan Raj Mishra forgot how to fight back."
My rage curled around my spine, but my tone stayed icy calm.
Vihaan: "…Forgot? No, Kabir. I simply waited. Because when I strike, it won't be to defeat you… it'll be to erase you. I will come after everything you hold dear — one by one — until there's nothing left but ashes. And you'll watch it all burn."
Kabir's chuckle was venomous, designed to provoke.
Kabir: "Fiery words… but hollow. You've already lost once. And I hear your fiancée's dear brother is getting bail tomorrow."
He paused, his voice dripping with mockery.
"Beware, Vihaan… you never know what tomorrow holds."
Vihaan: "Touch even a strand of her hair, and I swear on my name — I'll turn this city into a graveyard."
Kabir smirked through the line.
Kabir: "Careful, or your pretty threats might make me excited. Remember what I did last time… do you really want me to do it again?"
Before I could respond, he hung up — leaving behind a silence heavy enough to suffocate.
I hurled the phone against the wall.
It shattered into pieces.
Shashwat and Nishant were both standing now, fury rolling off them like a storm.
Shashwat: "Calm yourself, Vihaan. Let Harsh come out first. Then…"
He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper.
"Then we'll avenge this. Every tear she's shed, every loss we've suffered — he'll pay back tenfold."
I met his eyes and nodded .
But inside, I was already plotting Kabir's destruction.
---
Later That Night
The night air was cold, sharp against my skin as I stepped outside.
I scrolled through the headlines again.
Photos of Shreya in Kabir's arms…
Captions twisted like knives:
"The Hidden Boss of Techno Gamerz Caught in Love with His Rival's Sister!"
"Enemies Turned Lovers? Viral Sensation Shakes the Industry!"
My fists clenched.
Each headline was another insult, another scar carved into my pride.
I dialed my most trusted men.
They answered immediately, their voices trembling.
Man: "Sir— we tried, but—"
Vihaan: "Shut. Up."
My voice was calm . Deathly calm.
"I don't want excuses. I want results."
"Kabir thought he could put his hands on her… let the world see it… and walk away breathing?"
The line went silent.
Vihaan: "Destroy him. His business, his reputation, his allies — rip it all apart piece by piece. I want him drowning in his own filth before I even touch him. When his world is nothing but ashes…"
A pause. My voice dropped to a lethal whisper.
"…then I'll come for him."
There was a collective gulp on the other end.
Man: "Y-yes, sir."
Vihaan: "Make. It. Happen."
I ended the call, eyes lifting to Shreya's window.
She was probably crying herself to sleep while I plotted hell for anyone who dared hurt her.
"Even if she hates me for it… I'll choose her. Again and again. Until my last breath."
My phone buzzed.
Rakshit, my most loyal man, had sent several files and photos.
I opened them — and my jaw tightened with every image.
Shashwat's own board members , meeting Kabir in secret at a private club.
Documents of embezzled funds .
Shares being transferred — slowly, quietly — into Kabir's hands.
And then the next image.
The commissioner himself, having dinner with Kabir's secretary.
A bitter laugh escaped me.
While we were distracted with Harsh's case, Kabir was building an empire right under our noses.
He wasn't just planning war — he was winning it silently .
But the last photo…
Even though the figure's face was unclear, the posture, the clothing — I knew this man.
And the realization made my blood run cold.
I immediately called Rakshit.
He answered on the first ring.
Vihaan: "Dig deeper. I don't care if you have to burn the whole damn city to find the truth. I want names. I want motives. I want every single traitor handed to me on a silver platter. And Rakshit — if you value your life — don't come back to me without answers."
Rakshit's voice trembled.
Rakshit: "Consider it done, sir."
I hung up.
My gaze shifted back to Shreya's window.
The memory of Kabir holding her flashed before my eyes — bile rising in my throat.
My fists clenched so tight they ached.