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The sound of voices behind me makes me turn. They’re all coming out now—Simran, Claire, and Zane flanked by Abhay and the security team. Veer is in Claire’s arms, happily babbling, oblivious to the tension mounting around us. Something snaps inside me at the sight of Zane’s smug face. Before I can think, I cross the distance between us in long strides. Rage clouds my vision, and without a second thought, I grab him by the collar and slam him against the nearest wall. My fist connects with his face before he can say a word, and the sound of the impact is oddly satisfying. Simran’s gasp of shock barely reaches me as I stand there, glaring down at the man who’s been tormenting us since long.

“So you’re the one,” I hiss, my voice deadly calm. “You’ve been threatening Simran all this time. You think you can scare her and get away with it?”

Claire instinctively steps back, clutching Veer protectively as Abhay and the guards spring into action, forming a protective circle around us.

“Get Veer and Claire home. Now!” I bark out the order to my guards, not wanting our son to witness this. Claire quickly retreats with Veer and the other guards as Abhay and my men continue to secure the perimeter.

Blood trickles from Zane’s nose, and his stunned expression quickly morphs into one of anger.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Zane shouts, trying to free himself from my grip.

Simran grabs my arm, tugging hard. “Vishnu, what are you doing? Let him go!”

I glare at Zane. “He’s the masked man we’ve been looking for,” I tell her, my grip tightening on his collar.

Her eyes widen in disbelief as she looks between Zane and me.

“What the hell do you mean? What masked man?” Zane splutters through the blood.

I’m about to strike him again when Simran grabs my arm, pulling me back. “Vishnu, I think you are mistaken. That’s not possible. How can Zane be the one?” she demands.

Without releasing him, I pull out my phone and show her the evidence.

“Then explain this.” I show her the picture of the cap with the ‘Z.’ “This was found in his apartment today.”

Simran stares at the image, and all the colour drains from her face.

“And this.” I swipe to the next picture of the white sedan, the dents and scraped paint clearly visible. “That’s the same car that chased us the other night. It’s parked in his lot.”

“Your men were in my apartment?” Zane’s voice rises with indignation. “You broke into my home? What the hell!”

“Don’t play innocent,” I sneer. “This cap, this car—how do you explain that, Zane? Are you really going to deny it?”

He spits blood onto the pavement and looks at me with cold fury. “Yes, that cap is mine, and so is the car. But I have nothing to do with threatening Simran.”

My vision nearly goes red.

“A man wearing this exact cap delivered a scarf to Simran’s boutique—a scarf meant to look like it was stained with blood. The same man who’s been sending her threatening messages for two months, stalking her every move.” I yank him closer. “Was turning down your proposal not enough that you had to terrorise her?”

Zane suddenly shoves back, breaking my grip. “What the hell are you talking about?” His face is contorted with rage now. “I’m not any masked man.”

“Then explain how your cap and car ended up with him,” I demand, my hands curling into fists again.

Zane pushes me away angrily.

“My car was stolen from my office two weeks ago. I filed a report with NYPD. That cap was in the car. I’d specially ordered it with my initials.”

“Convenient,” I snarl, not buying it for a second.

“It’s the truth!” Zane barks. “I got it back three days ago. The police found it abandoned by the road. The car had been tampered with, but nothing inside it was stolen. I had planned to get it serviced tonight, so I cleared everything out of it beforehand. The cap was in the car when it was stolen, and when the cops found the car back, the cap was still there. I only recently took it from the car and brought it back to my apartment, along with the rest of my stuff.”

I stare at him, my mind racing. Could he really be telling the truth? The timing matches perfectly with our run-in with the white sedan. But if Zane’s not the man we’re looking for, then who stole his car? Who’s been using his belongings to throw us off track?

Simran looks at him, her expression shifting from anger to confusion, as if she’s started to believe him.

“And for the record, Vishnu,” he snaps, turning to me. “I don’t need to stalk or scare Simran. Yes, she turned down my proposal, but I respect her decision. I’m not some obsessed maniac.”

I’m still not convinced.