Page 159

With a guttural yell, I hurl the phone across the room. It smashes against the wall, pieces scattering across the floor as the sound echoes through the silence like a gunshot.

“Vishnu!”

Simran’s voice cuts through the storm raging in my head. I spin around to see her standing in the doorway, her silk robe wrapped tightly around her, her face pale with worry and fear. She’s clutching the fabric so tightly as if terrified—not just of the situation, but of seeing me like this.

“What happened?” she asks, hurrying toward me, her voice unsteady yet firm. “Was it Zane?”

I nod, unable to force out the words. My fists clench at my sides, trembling with the fury I’ve been trying—and failing—to contain. The image of his smug face, the venom in his voice, his threats—it’s all seared into my mind.

Simran doesn’t hesitate. She steps closer, placing her soft hands on my face, forcing me to meet her eyes. The concern in her gaze cuts through the haze of my anger.

“Vishnu, listen to me,” she says firmly, her voice steady despite the tension radiating from me. “Don’t let him derail you. That’s exactly what he wants. He wants to rattle you, to throw you off your game so that he can strike. Don’t give him that power. Don’t let him win.”

Her words anchor me, pulling me back from the brink. My breathing slows, just enough to stop my heart from racing, but the fire inside me doesn’t dim. I close my eyes for a moment, trying to ground myself, but Zane’s voice still echoes in my head, his threats like a dagger twisting in my gut.

Six days.

Six days to stop him.

Six days to protect my father and my family.

Six days to ensure this madman never touches us again.

Not now. Not ever again.

CHAPTER 37

PRATAP WALIA

Same Day Late Morning

I sit cross-legged on the soft play mat in the living room, my kurta sleeves rolled up to my elbows, ready to embrace a rare moment of pure joy. My grandchildren, Veer and Avika, are perched on either side of me, their squeals of delight bouncing off the walls and filling every corner of the room with life and laughter.

Avika wriggles closer and hands me a plush rabbit, her tiny fingers curling around mine as if commanding me to play along. Her bright eyes twinkle with mischief, and I can’t help but chuckle at her innocent expression.

“Oh, you want Daadu to play with this?” I ask, kissing her chubby little hand. She giggles, and the sound of her laughter instantly lifts my mood, washing away the exhaustion lingering from the intense NEP party meeting I’d just wrapped up in my home office.

Healthcare policies, rural development, infrastructure plans—all of them are important, but none of them compares to this. To my granddaughter. To my grandson. To them.

Veer suddenly squeals and climbs into my lap, a toy truck clutched in his tiny hands. I pick him up effortlessly, lifting him high above my head as he bursts into a fit of giggles. His laughter is loud, contagious, and also the most beautiful sound in the world.

“And you, my little tiger,” I grin, pulling him back down and holding him close. “Your birthday is coming up soon, isn’t it? You’re going to be one year old!”

I bounce him gently on my lap, his little fingers clutching at my kurta. “And let me tell you, Veer,” I whisper conspiratorially, tapping his nose, “For your birthday, Daadu is going to plan the grandest celebration this family has ever seen. No one in this house will ever forget it.”

Veer babbles something incoherent, patting my face with his small, soft hands. His touch tugs at my heart, and I press a kiss to his cheek, enjoying this moment with my grandson.

“But first, young man,” I say, feigning seriousness as I adjust him on my lap, “you owe me something.”

Avika tilts her head curiously, and Veer stares at me with wide eyes, blinking as if waiting for my next words.

“You still haven’t called me Daadu,” I say, pretending to scold him. “Come on now, say it. Daa-du!” I repeat, drawing out each syllable slowly.

Veer grins at me, chortling in delight as if mocking my attempt. I laugh, pulling him into a tight hug while Avika claps her tiny hands as though she’s cheering us on.

“Did you hear that, Avika?” I say, turning to her. “Your brother is teasing Daadu. He’s doing it on purpose, isn’t he?”

The moment Avika hears the word, she immediately chirps, “Daadu!” in her tiny, excited voice, just like she always does.