The night roared alive with engines, gunfire, and shouts. Khalid's men tightened their circle while the SUVs cut off every escape route.
Meera's pulse thundered. Her pistol was nearly empty, her body raw with exhaustion, but her stance remained firm. She would not let them see fear.
Raj, in contrast, stood unnervingly relaxed, as if the chaos belonged to him. His shirt clung to his chest, streaked with ash and blood, but his eyes gleamed with ruthless calculation.
Khalid stepped forward, smirking. "End of the line, Rathore. You can't outshoot us all. Surrender, and maybe I'll let your pretty bureaucrat walk away."
Meera's jaw tightened. She raised her gun at him. "Try me."
Raj chuckled under his breath. "You really should stop offering me up as bait, Khalid. It's insulting."
Khalid's smile faltered. "Then die proud." He raised his hand—ready to signal the kill.
And Raj made his move.
In a blur, he fired three rapid shots—not at the mercenaries, but at the gas tank of the nearest SUV. The impact was immediate.
BOOM.
The vehicle erupted into flames, the explosion shaking the ground, sending men flying. The chain reaction lit another SUV, then another. Fire swallowed the night, painting the river in shades of hell.
"Move!" Raj barked, grabbing Meera's arm.
They sprinted through the chaos, weaving between burning metal and screaming men. Bullets tore past, but the confusion bought them seconds—seconds they couldn't waste.
Meera's lungs burned as she ran. "You just started a war!"
Raj shot her a wicked grin mid-stride. "Darling, wars don't start. They're already waiting. You just have to light the match."
She wanted to slap him. She wanted to kill him. She wanted to strangle him where he stood. But there was no time for any of it.
Ahead, Khalid emerged from the smoke, gun raised, his face twisted in fury. "You're not leaving, Rathore!"
Raj's pistol clicked empty. Meera reacted faster, firing the last of her rounds. Khalid stumbled, the bullet grazing his shoulder, but he didn't fall. He snarled, returning fire.
Raj shoved Meera against a container, taking the bullet through his sleeve instead of her chest. His face didn't even flinch—just a tight breath through his nose as blood seeped down his arm.
Meera's eyes widened. "You're hit—"
"Shut up," he growled. "And listen. You want to live? Then trust me."
Her lips parted, fury and fear colliding. She hated him. She distrusted him. But here, in this inferno of betrayal, she found herself nodding.
Raj ripped a knife from his belt, pressing it into her hand. His eyes locked with hers, dark and intense. "If I fall, you run. And you don't look back."
The words hung heavier than the smoke.
Meera's throat tightened. "Don't tell me what to do."
For the first time, something unreadable flickered in his gaze—not cold calculation, not smug arrogance. Something sharper. Dangerous. Almost… vulnerable.
Before she could read it, Khalid charged.
Raj surged forward, unarmed, his wounded arm trailing blood. He slammed Khalid against a container, the two of them locked in brutal combat. Fists, elbows, knees—pure, raw violence.
Meera tried to get a clear shot, but the fire and shadows blurred everything. She raised the knife, torn between saving Raj or saving herself.
Khalid roared, pulling a concealed blade and driving it toward Raj's chest. Raj caught his wrist just in time, muscles straining, teeth gritted. The knife trembled, inching closer with every second.
"Meera!" Raj barked. "Now!"
Her heart froze. This was it—the moment. She could throw the knife, save him… or walk away, let fate end him, and eliminate her most dangerous adversary.
The fire roared, men screamed, the world spun—and Meera's choice hovered in the air like a guillotine.
Her hand tightened on the knife. Her pulse thundered in her ears.
And then—
BANG.
A single shot split the night.
Raj and Khalid froze. Meera's eyes widened in shock.
Because the bullet hadn't come from her.
Someone else was here. Hidden in the shadows. Watching. Controlling the game.
Raj's expression darkened, his grip tightening on Khalid's wrist. He shoved him aside just as the mercenary's body went limp from the unseen shot.
Meera spun toward the source, scanning the smoke and fire. But there was nothing. Just silence.
Raj's voice was low, dangerous, dripping with fury. "We're not alone, officer. Tonight was never just about Khalid."
Meera swallowed hard, her knuckles white around the knife.
And for the first time, she realized the horrifying truth—
they weren't just surviving an ambush. They were pieces in someone else's game.