The explosion still echoed in the distance.
Flames rose high into the night sky, casting an orange glow over the harbor. Smoke curled into the air, mixing with the cold wind.
Behind the metal container, Anaya Sen struggled to steady her breathing.
Her hands were still gripping Aryan Malhotra's shirt.
As if letting go meant losing something important.
Or someone.
But Aryan had already shifted back into war mode.
His eyes scanned the surroundings sharply.
Every movement. Every shadow.
Every possible threat.
"Stay here," he said quietly.
Anaya shook her head immediately.
"No."
Aryan didn't argue this time.
Instead, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her slightly closer behind him.
"Then don't move."
Gunfire started again.
Short bursts.
Controlled.
Aryan's men were responding.
But something felt wrong.
Too quiet.
Too organized.
Like this wasn't just a random attack.
It was planned.
Perfectly planned.
Anaya whispered,
"Something's not right…"
Aryan's jaw tightened.
"I know."
Suddenly—
A loud metallic sound echoed behind them.
Before Aryan could react—
A masked man appeared from the back side of the container.
Too close.
Too fast.
He grabbed Anaya's arm violently and pulled her away.
"Aryan—!"
Her scream cut through the chaos.
Aryan turned instantly.
His eyes burned with pure rage.
"LET HER GO!"
He fired without hesitation.
BANG!
The attacker dropped.
But it was too late.
Another two men rushed in from the shadows.
They moved like professionals.
Fast. Precise.
One of them injected something into Anaya's arm.
Her body went weak instantly.
"No… no… Aryan…"
Her voice faded.
Her vision blurred.
Aryan reached her—
Just one second too late.
His fingers brushed hers…
But couldn't hold.
She slipped away.
The world slowed down.
Then—
Nothing.
Anaya's body went limp as they carried her into a black van.
"Aryan…!" she tried to whisper one last time.
But darkness swallowed her.
The van doors slammed shut.
And it sped away into the night.
For a moment—
Everything went silent.
Too silent.
Aryan stood frozen.
His hand still slightly raised in the air.
As if he could still reach her.
Then something inside him snapped.
Completely.
"FIND THAT VAN!"
His voice exploded across the harbor.
Dark.
Deadly.
Unrecognizable.
His men rushed instantly.
Cars started.
Engines roared.
But Aryan didn't move.
Not yet.
His chest rose and fell slowly.
His eyes… had changed.
The calm, controlled man was gone.
What remained—
Was something far more dangerous.
Across the harbor, standing on top of the container—
Viktor Dragovich watched everything.
A slow smile formed on his lips.
He picked up his phone and dialed a number.
Aryan's phone vibrated.
He answered.
Silence.
Then Viktor's voice came through.
Smooth.
Satisfied.
"I told you, Mr. Malhotra…"
Aryan didn't speak.
His silence was more dangerous than any threat.
Viktor continued,
"The girl was always part of the deal."
Aryan's grip on the phone tightened.
"You have five hours," Viktor said calmly.
"Bring me the chip…"
"…or you'll never see her again."
The call ended.
The wind howled across the empty harbor.
Aryan slowly lowered the phone.
His eyes turned completely cold.
Lifeless.
Deadly.
He whispered, almost to himself—
"You made a mistake…"
His voice dropped further.
"…taking what belongs to me."
Then he turned.
His men froze at the look on his face.
Because they all knew—
This wasn't just a rescue anymore.
This was war.
And this time—
No one would be spared.