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Simran moves closer, her hands reaching for mine, trying to stop me from hurting myself further. “Don’t do this to yourself, Vishnu. If anyone is to blame, it’s me,” Simran replies. “I took the foolish decision of keeping Veer a secret from you. And then I trusted the wrong person. But ever since you came back into our lives again, you’ve done everything you can to keep us safe.”

Her words should be comforting, but they only fan the flames of my guilt. I reach up and cup her face, forcing her to look at me.

“That’s not enough. I’m not letting you or Veer out of my sight again. Where you go, I go. No arguments. I don’t care what it costs me—my career, my plans, anything.”

Her eyes widen in shock. “Vishnu, we have talked about this. You can’t do that. You can’t sacrifice everything you’ve worked so hard for—”

“I’ve already made my decision,” I cut her off. “I want you and Veer safe. Nothing else matters.”

Before she can argue further, Ayaan walks back into the room, his face grim.

“The NYPD is on their way to Zane’s house with an arrest warrant. I’ve sent them all the evidence we have. Let’s hope they catch him before he disappears.”

I shake my head, my gut twisting with certainty.

“They won’t find him in New York.”

“What do you mean?” Ayaan frowns.

I meet his eyes.

“If I’ve learned anything about Zane, it’s that he plans his moves meticulously, well ahead in advance. He’s not in New York anymore. He’s here, Ayaan. In Mumbai. Waiting to strike.”

Ayaan exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair.

“If he’s here already, that means he has set everything in motion. We don’t have much time. We need to find him before he makes his move, Vishnu.”

I nod.

Abhay steps forward, his jaw set. “I’ll increase security around the mansion immediately. We’ll double the patrols and monitor every entry and exit point.”

“Do it,” I order. “And make sure no one leaves this house without my approval.”

As Abhay leaves to carry out my instructions, I turn back to Simran. She looks at me, her eyes filled with trepidation.

“I won’t let anything happen to us,” I promise her. “We may not know his exact plan, but we still have the upper hand. Because we know who he is now and what he wants.”

She gives me a weak nod, though her fear remains palpable. Zayed Qureshi is here, and he’s closer than ever. I just don’t know where he’ll strike—or when. But one thing is certain: whatever his moves are, I’ll be ready.

*******************

Few Hours Later

I stir in my sleep, the low hum of buzzing pulling me out of a restless dream. Simran, nestled against my chest, stirs a little but doesn’t wake. The room is still dark. I glance at the bedside table where the source of the vibration continues—my phone.

Who could be calling at this early hour?

Usually, Simran and I keep our phones on silent at night, set to vibrate mode to avoid waking Veer, who sleeps either between us or in his own baby cot beside our bed. But something about the persistent buzzing unsettles me. Slowly, I untangle myself from Simran’s arms, careful not to wake her.

I sit up and reach for my phone, my pulse quickening the moment I see the screen.

The caller ID displays a four-digit number—no name, no details. Just a four-digit number. My instincts immediately kick in, putting me on high alert, wiping away the last remnants of sleep. After everything we uncovered about Zane—Zayed Qureshi—last night, I know this isn’t just a random call.

Simran shifts slightly, her soft breaths steady as she sleeps. I grab my phone, then quietly check on my son, who’s snuggled up in his baby cot, sleeping peacefully. Satisfied, I slip out of the room without a sound. Once I reach the drawing room, I set the phone on the wooden table, propping it against a stack of books for support. My heart pounds as I accept the call.

The screen lights up, and my jaw tightens.

There it is—the joker mask.