Page 157

Story: The Deceit

It’s him!

The sight of it sends a wave of rage coursing through me, but I don’t flinch. We’d expected Zane to make some kind of contact with us, especially me, the moment he realised the NYPD had come knocking at his New York residence for his arrest. My team has already tapped my phone, ready to trace his location the second the call connects.

I lean forward, planting my palms on the table, my fingers splayed as my hardened gaze pierces through the screen.

“What should I call you?” I almost growl. “Zane or Zayed Qureshi?”

A twisted smirk stretches across his face as he slowly removes the mask, unveiling his true face. There he is… the man behind the mask—Qureshi’s son, Zayed. His expression is dark, sinister, and far too smug for someone about to be torn apart. That smirk won’t last long. I’ll make sure of that.

“And what shouldIcall you?” he sneers, his voice oozing venom. “Vishnu… or should I call you what my father did… Walia’s watchdog?”

My jaw clenches so hard it aches, but I don’t break eye contact.

“Watchdog, huh?” Zane laughs darkly, his smirk deepening. “But you didn’t live up to that title, did you? It took you long enough to figure out it was me. All this while, I left you little breadcrumbs—hints like that cryptic note‘My eyes will always be on you’—the same promise my father made before you killed him… and yet, even with all that, it took you forever to send the police to my doorstep in New York.”

I lean closer, my hands tightening into fists on the table. “I didn’t kill your father,” I say through gritted teeth. “He committed suicide.”

“Suicide?” Zane’s smirk vanishes in an instant, his face twisting into a mask of unfiltered rage. “You think that was suicide? It was murder. You are his murderer, Vishnu.”

He leans in closer to the camera, his eyes ablaze with hatred. “That day, I saw everything with my own eyes. Do you remember that mirror, Vishnu? The one my father stared into when he made that promise—the one where he swore his blood would take revenge? Do you know who was watching from the other side?Me.I was watching everything.”

My breath catches as I process his words. So, that was a two-way mirror and Zane had been watching us all along.

“I saw how you goaded him,” Zane continues, his voice trembling with fury. “I saw how you cornered him, pushing him into a corner so tight that he had no way out. You showed him there was no choice left, no dignity to cling to. You didn’t shoot him, Vishnu, but you left him with no choice but to pull that trigger.”

He pauses, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he slams his fist onto his own desk, the sound reverberating through the call.

“You humiliated him, stripped him of everything he had worked for. My father wasn’t a coward—he preferred death over the disgrace you forced upon him. And you? You wanted it to happen. The world may call it suicide, but let me make this perfectly clear to you, Vishnu—you killed my father. And for that,you will pay.”

Zane’s eyes narrow into cold, merciless slits, and I can see the madness in them. It’s not just anger—it’s obsession. A twisted, all-consuming need for vengeance that has burned in him for years. His lips curl into a menacing smile as he leans closer to the camera, his voice dropping to a cold, venomous whisper.

The conviction in his voice is chilling, a promise born out of years of simmering rage and misguided sanity. His eyes gleam with a manic light, and for a split second, I can feel the darkness this man carries.

“From the moment you took my father’s life, my life has had only one purpose—to fulfil my father’s last wish. To erase the Walia name from existence. Not just your father, Vishnu. Every single one of you. The Walias will cease to exist. You all will be nothing but a forgotten name in history, and I’ll make sure of it.”

“As if I’d ever let that happen!” I snarl, my anger erupting like a volcano, my fists clenching so tightly that my knuckles turn white. “Your father’s death might not have been at my hands, but yours certainly will. I swear to God, Zane—if you even think about getting close to my family, I will kill you. And I won’t need a gun or your pathetic mind games for that. I’ll rip you apart with my bare hands.”

Zane doesn’t flinch. Instead, he throws his head back and lets out a dark, guttural laugh that reverberates through the phone, like the sound of a madman spiralling deeper into insanity.

“You think you can scare me, Vishnu?” he sneers, his laughter fading as his expression hardens. “Do you think really your threats mean anything to me? I’ve already died a thousand deaths since the day I saw my father’s lifeless body. You can’t kill someone who’s already dead inside. Forget killing me…” he smirks eerily. “You can’t even lay a finger on me, Vishnu.”

His lips curl into a sinister smirk, his voice low and cruel as he speaks. “But your time is running out. Your death is at my hands, Vishnu... I promise you that. You’ve been hiding behind the Walias’ security, thinking you’re untouchable, but I’ll make sure you’re not. I will be the one to end you, Vishnu. Wipe you off the face of the earth.”

He leans closer to the camera, his mocking gaze burning into mine. “Just because your name is Vishnu doesn’t mean you’re immortal, does it?”

And then he laughs again—a dark, feral sound.

That laugh—it’s hauntingly familiar. It takes me back six years to Qureshi’s farmhouse. He had laughed the same way—the same sinister laugh, with the same arrogance, as if he were untouchable. Like father, like son.

“Your father laughed just like that,” I mock, my eyes narrowing. “And we both know how that ended. He’s dead, and the Walias are still standing strong. He thought he could crush the Walias, but look at how it turned out. He’s nothing but a distant memory now—a bad one, at that.”

Zane’s smirk vanishes, replaced by a contorted mask of hatred. I see the crack in his composure and press harder.

“History will repeat itself, Zane. Every time criminals like you or your father try to hurt my family, you’ll fall. Every single time.”

His fury explodes. He again slams his fist onto the desk in front of him, his entire frame shaking with rage.

“You think this is over? You think you’ve won just because my father is gone? No, Vishnu. This isn’t over. Not by a long shot. This has never been over because I’m still alive. And I swear on his name, I will finish what he started. You’ll see.”

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