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“I had given your father a choice to surrender, and now I’m giving you the same. Back off. Stop this madness. This revenge of yours is baseless.”

“Baseless?” he growls. “My revenge is not baseless.” His body shakes, his eyes wild as he leans forward again. “Had you been in my place—had I been the reason for your father’s death—what would you have done?”

The mere mention of Dad’s death sends a wave of fury through me. My fingers twitch, desperate to crush the phone before me. I glare at the screen, my mind seething with the thought of someone daring to harm Dad.

Zane notices the shift in my expression.

“You would’ve done the same thing, Vishnu,” he smirks darkly, his eyes gleaming with psychotic intensity. “You would’ve burned the whole damn world down for your beloved father. So don’t pretend you’re any better than me. We’re the same. You are not the only son who can do anything for your father. I can too.”

Then he leans back, his gaze sharpening with dangerous clarity.

“Right or wrong, Vishnu, you would do anything for your father. Anything. And don’t even try to deny it. You and I, we’re both cut from the same cloth—loyal sons, bound by love and duty.”

His voice drops, a sinister edge creeping in as he tilts his head, his eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction. “We are meant to live for our fathers. To die for them...”

And then, as his grin widens into something almost feral, he adds with chilling finality, “And to kill for them.”

For a fleeting second, I feel the weight of what he’s saying. He’s not entirely wrong—I would do anything for Dad. I have done everything I could to protect him and my family, haven’t I? But this? This madness?

“You’re nothing like me, Zane,” I hiss through gritted teeth. “Your father was a power-hungry criminal who lived and died by his own sins. He built his empire on the suffering of others—money laundering, human trafficking, smuggling, and God knows how many other unforgivable crimes. He didn’t just climb the political throne—he corrupted it, leaving a trail of ruined lives for his own personal gain.”

I step closer to the phone, my anger burning through every word. “But my father? My father has never once betrayed his nation for his own agenda. He has never stooped so low as to exploit the vulnerable to rise higher. Pratap Walia has always been a man of integrity, a man who has fought for this country with every ounce of his being. He’s earned his place through sheer determination and work ethics—not through spilled blood, not by buying loyalty.”

My fists tighten as my gaze bores into the screen.

“That’s why he’s worth protecting. That’s why I will stand by his side, no matter what. Don’t you dare compare him to your father, Zane. Your father was nothing but a tyrant who would’ve burned this country to ashes for his ambition. My father is a patriot. So don’t even think for a second that you and I are the same.”

“Integrity?” he taunts, his tone dripping with disdain. “You call Pratap Walia a man of integrity? Spare me, Vishnu. Do you really think sitting on his throne of patriotism makes him pure? Don’t make me laugh. No one rises to power without dirtying their hands. Not even your precious father.”

I clench my fists so hard that I feel my nails digging into my palms.

“My father wasn’t perfect, no. But at least he didn’t pretend to be all good. He knew what it took to climb the ladder, and he didn’t shy away from doing what he had to do. Money laundering? Human trafficking? You call them sins. But he… for him those were merely tools—necessary means to secure his place in a world where only the ruthless survive.”

His eyes narrow, blazing with hatred.

“Your father may have fooled the world, Vishnu, but not the Qureshis. Pratap Walia might wear the mask of a patriot in front of the world, but deep down, he’s no better than anyone else. And you... you are too blinded in your love for him, because you worship him. Just like I worshipped my father.”

His jaw tightens as he continues.

“I couldn’t protect him six years ago,” he breathes, the madness in his tone more evident than ever. “But now...”

He pauses, letting his words hang in the air, his smirk slowly creeping back on his face. The silence is deafening, the tension suffocating.

“Now it’s your turn, Vishnu. Try protecting your father if you can.”

A cold dread settles in my chest.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I demand, my fury rising with each passing second.

Zane’s eyes gleam with malice.

“Six years ago, you came to my home and pushed my father to the edge—until he saw no way out but death. Now, I’ll return the favour. This time, I’ll come to your home, Vishnu. Within the next six days, I’ll come to your home and make sure your father doesn’t live to see another day.”

He leans closer, his smile evil. “Stop me if you can.”

“Zane!” I roar, but the screen goes black. The call disconnects before I can say another word.

“ZAYED!” I bellow again, slamming my fist onto the table with such force that the wood creaks under the pressure. My breathing is ragged, fury coursing through every vein in my body. Desperate to regain control, I try to reconnect the call, my fingers trembling with anger. But it’s of no use. The number isn’t functional.