Kabir's POV
The darkened room was lit only by the dim glow of several monitors, each screen flickering with live surveillance feeds from around Shashwat's mansion. I sat in the center, draped in my tailored black suit, a glass of scotch in one hand and my phone in the other. My lips curled into a vicious smile as I watched Vihaan's convoy speeding toward the juvenile detention center.
Everything was going according to plan.
Kabir's secretary, Raghav, stood near the monitors, nervously adjusting his tie.
"Sir," he muttered, "are you sure this will work? Vihaan… he's—"
I cut him off sharply, my voice like ice.
"He's nothing but a boy who thinks he's a king. I'll crush him where it hurts most."
Raghav swallowed hard. "But… if Shashwat finds out we orchestrated this—"
My glare silenced him.
"Shashwat is too blind to see what's right under his nose. Besides, the Boss has given his blessing. This is only the first move."
At the mention of Boss, a heavy silence filled the room. Even I felt a chill run down my spine. The man was a ghost—never seen, never heard. His hatred for Shashwat's family ran deeper than mine, darker than anything I'd ever known.
Just then, my phone buzzed. A secure line.
I answered immediately. "Boss," I said, straightening. "Everything is in motion. By the time Vihaan realizes what's happened, Shashwat's family will be in ruins. And Vihaan…" my voice dripped venom, "…Vihaan will wish he never crossed me."
The Boss's deep, cold voice echoed through the line, distorted.
"Control your men, Kabir. I don't want them all dead. They must suffer… they must feel despair before they die. That is my revenge."
Kabir clenched his jaw. "As you command."
The call ended abruptly. Raghav, pale and trembling, dared to speak.
"Sir… what exactly is his connection to them?"
I smirked darkly, swirling my scotch.
"That's not our concern. Just remember one thing, Raghav—he's the reason even I fear failure."
Back at the Mansion – The Clash
Chaos erupted. Kabir's men stormed the mansion like a pack of rabid wolves, guns blazing, shouting threats. Blood soaked the pristine white marble. Women screamed, children hid, and furniture shattered.
But then—another group entered. Silent. Deadly. They were not Kabir's.
One of Kabir's thugs yelled, "Who the hell are you?!"
A cold voice responded, "We're here to clean up the mess you created."
And before anyone could react, gunfire exploded. Bodies dropped one after another as the mysterious intruders slaughtered Kabir's men with precise, merciless efficiency.
Within minutes, the mansion was eerily silent again—save for the sobs of the wounded family members.
One of the masked men suddenly froze near the main hallway, eyes wide.
"Wait!" he shouted in panic. "He's here… Vihaan is here!"
Another man turned sharply, fear flashing across his face.
"Are you sure?!"
"Yes," the first one hissed, trembling. "I can feel him. We can't face him… not yet. Retreat!"
In an instant, they vanished into the night, leaving behind nothing but corpses and bloodstains.
Shashwat's POV
When I reached the hospital later, the images of what I'd seen haunted me. Vihaan, just twenty-three, was drenched in blood—his voice raw with rage as he shouted about ripping people apart, about burning the city itself to ash.
This isn't the Vihaan I know.
The boy I'd known for years was calm, composed, almost unshakable. But the man I saw tonight… he was a storm barely contained. A demon walking in human skin.
As I sat outside the ER, my hands trembling, I couldn't stop thinking:
Who the hell is Vihaan really?
For now, I shoved the thought aside. Too much was at stake. But deep down, a seed of suspicion took root.
Rakshit stormed into the waiting area, his face pale, clutching his phone. Shashwat's right-hand man, Arvind, followed close behind.
"Boss," Rakshit gasped, "look at this!"
He shoved the phone into Shashwat's hands. A single message glared back at us in bold letters:
"Round One Complete."
The room went silent. Then Nakul roared, slamming his fist against the wall.
"FIND OUT WHO SENT THIS!"
Even Nishant, a god-level hacker, pulled out his laptop and began typing furiously.
Minutes passed. Sweat beaded his forehead.
Finally, he slammed the laptop shut with a frustrated growl.
"Impossible! Whoever sent this is ten steps ahead of me. No trace, no signal, nothing. It's like… it came from nowhere."
The rage in the room thickened like smoke.
The doors to the ER burst open.
A doctor, face grave, approached.
"Mr. Shashwat," he said hurriedly, "both Mrs. Reema and Mrs. Pandey have lost a dangerous amount of blood. We need immediate donations or we could lose them."
Without hesitation, Shashwat and Nishant stepped forward.
"Take mine," Shashwat said firmly.
"Mine too," Nishant added.
They were rushed away to the donation room, leaving the rest of us tense and restless.
-----
Vihaan's POV :
I sat in the corridor, my mind a storm. My shirt was stiff with dried blood, my hair matted and wild. Shreya's blood clung to my skin like a curse.
Suddenly, a nurse stumbled toward me, nearly out of breath.
"Sir!" she stammered, terrified. "T-the little girl… Vidhi… she has a severe wound. We need special medicines immediately or—"
"Don't say it." My voice was sharp enough to cut steel.
Without another word, I sprinted toward the pharmacy. People stared at me as I ran through the hospital halls—a blood-soaked phantom with murder in his eyes.
I shoved open the pharmacy door and grabbed the medicines, slamming cash on the counter. As I turned to leave, my phone buzzed.
One message. One photo.
My breath caught.
It was Kabir, sitting with another man. The man's face was hidden, his back deliberately angled away from the camera. But there was something… familiar. A presence I'd felt before.
My hands trembled. My vision blurred with rage.
"Who the hell are you?" I hissed under my breath, clutching the phone so tightly the screen cracked.
Back at the Mansion – Rakshit & Arvind
Meanwhile, Rakshit and Arvind scoured the bloodstained halls of the mansion.
"Boss," Arvind whispered, "this doesn't make sense. Most of Kabir's men are dead… but they didn't kill each other. Someone else was here."
Rakshit nodded grimly.
"Yeah. And whoever it was… they were fast, organized. Not Kabir's style."
As they examined a wall, they found a single bullet casing—marked with an unfamiliar insignia.
Rakshit's eyes widened.
"This… this isn't Kabir's. This is someone bigger."
------
Kabir sat alone now, nursing his scotch, when Raghav burst into the room, panicked.
"Sir! Most of our men… they're dead! Someone attacked them at the mansion!"
Kabir's jaw clenched.
"What?! Who would dare—"
Before he could finish, his phone buzzed. A single message from an encrypted line:
" Boss is here."
Kabir froze.
" Boss …" he muttered, almost in awe, almost in fear.
Raghav's voice shook. "Sir, what do we do now?"
Kabir's eyes darkened. He turned toward the window, a cruel smile spreading across his face.
"Now, Raghav… just watch the show . "
-----
Vihaan's thumb pressed harder against the phone screen, the veins in his hand taut with rage. A jagged crack splintered across Kabir's frozen grin, his own reflection fractured beneath it. His chest heaved, his pulse roaring in his ears, but his eyes… his eyes were deathly still.
Only one thought burned in his mind, scorching through the exhaustion and fear that weighed him down.
Whoever you are… I will find you. And when I do, there will be no place on this earth to hide. No corner dark enough to shield you from me.
Far away, in a chamber cloaked in darkness, a single candle flickered atop a polished chessboard. The pieces were meticulously arranged, but one black knight lay toppled, its head cracked clean in half—a silent omen of the war yet to come.
In the shadows behind it, a figure leaned back in his chair, his face obscured by the dim light. A low, menacing chuckle slithered into the stillness, curling like smoke in the air.
"Find me, Vihaan," the Boss murmured, his voice dripping with venomous amusement. "Let's see how far you're willing to burn before I reduce your entire world to ash."
As Vihaan's fractured reflection stared back at him from the shattered screen, somewhere, the unseen puppet master watched… and waited.