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Story: The Deceit

“What’s happening?” I bark at Alex, my pulse quickening.

“His location is changing,” Alex mutters, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. “But he’s moving too fast—that’s impossible on land.”

My gaze flicks to the screen. The red dot is moving. Too fast. Too steady.

Then it hits me. The red dot is moving across the sea. My blood turns to ice as realisation sets in.

“F*ck, he’s AIRBORNE!” I roar, yanking the wheel into a sharp U-turn. “He’s coming for Dad! Call Ayaan—NOW. We need backup! ASAP!”

The words are barely out of my mouth when the connection stabilises again, and Zayed’s voice returns—he’s heard everything.

“That’s right. I’m coming for your dad, Pratap Walia, Vishnu.” Zayed’s voice drips with dark pride. “Six years! That’s how long I’ve waited for this revenge. Six years ago, you stormed into my house and took my father’s life. Remember what I told you? That within the next six days, I will come to your house and take your father away from you.

He gives a menacing pause, letting his words settle in. “So what if the house is not the Walia Mansion... so what if it’s from your getaway home—your Alibaug farmhouse…”

His laughter echoes eerily as I scream, “Don’t you dare touch my father!”

The line goes dead.

“Zayed!” I roar, but the call disconnects. My heart is hammering, instincts screaming at me to move faster—there’s no time to process, no time to think.

Two cars suddenly appear out of nowhere, boxing us in. Men lean out of the window with weapons drawn, and gunfire erupts.

“Get down!” I bark, jerking the wheel hard. The car swerves, and the tyres scream as bullets shatter the side windows. Cracks spread across the reinforced glass, but they thankfully don’t break, buying us precious seconds. Alex and my men return fire through the fractured spider webs of bullet holes while I ram our car into one of our attackers, trying to find a gap to escape.

The car jerks violently as a bullet grazes the rear wheel, throwing us off balance. Alex ducks instinctively, clutching the tablet with a death grip. “We can’t take much more of this!” he shouts, his voice filled with urgency.

My knuckles turn white on the wheel as I drive like a maniac, fighting to outmanoeuvre our attackers despite the bullets being fired at us.

This was Zayed’s masterplan.

He used Simran as a perfect distraction, knowing I’d drop everything to protect her. Now Dad is vulnerable, and I’m trapped in this speeding metal coffin, precious minutes ticking away while Zayed closes in on his real target.

I can literally hear Dad’s laughter from earlier, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he planned the event. I won’t let Zayed take that joy away. I won’t let him take my father.

The enemy car on my right rams into us hard. I grip the wheel tighter, slamming my foot on the accelerator. If I lose control now, we’re dead.

“Vishnu, we need to take them out now!” one of my men shouts, reloading his gun.

I don’t wait. I jerk the steering wheel, slamming the car into the one on my right. The impact is brutal—metal grinding, tyres screeching. Their SUV swerves wildly and smashes into the side barricades with a deafening crash. One down.

But the second car is relentless. It is still firing.

“Take the shot!” I command.

My man leans out, his gun aimed firmly, despite the chaos around him. A single shot hits the target—right into the second car’s front tyre. Their SUV skids, flipping out of control onto its side. The screech of metal and the shatter of glass fills the air as it rolls multiple times and then comes to a brutal stop.

I press the accelerator hard and escape from there.

Alex exhales sharply, still staring at the wreckage behind us.

“That was close,” he mutters.

But we’re not done yet.

I tap the Bluetooth button on my car dashboard, reconnecting to Ayaan.

“We need air support at the farmhouse. Now.”

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