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I run. As fast as my legs allow me. But I’m late. Too late. They shove him inside, and my heart threatens to explode.

“NOOO!”

The helicopter’s blades roar as it begins to rise.

“FUCKING NO!!” I yell, aiming my gun at the chopper, emptying every bullet in my magazine. My men follow suit, but it’s already too high now, too far out of reach.

Just then, a figure appears at the open door of the helicopter.

A figure in a joker mask—the masked man as we called him.

Zayed Qureshi.

He pulls off his mask with a slow, deliberate movement, revealing his face—grinning victoriously. My fingers curl into fists so hard my knuckles crack. That bast*rd. That psychotic bast*rd.

He tilts his head, eyes gleaming with twisted satisfaction, and then—he f*cking tosses the mask down like a challenge, his laughter cutting through the roar of the helicopter blades.

I watch it fall in slow motion, like a final stamp of his triumph. The mask lands at my feet, mocking me, haunting me. Although my men shoot at him, the bullets don’t touch him. The helicopter is too high up now.

His laughter—his wicked, taunting laughter—echoes through the air as the helicopter disappears into the sky.

“Dad!” My scream rips through the garden as the helicopter soars higher, taking Dad with it. My knees hit the ground, fingers still squeezing the trigger, gun still firing uselessly at the sky.

This is my greatest failure—the day I couldn’t protect my own father. My Dad—who has never once been in danger like this before—is now in the hands of a f*cking madman. And I couldn’t do anything to stop it.

I failed.

I FAILED.

Somewhere in the background, my men shout that the jammers are down. Backup is on its way. Police sirens wail in the distance as the jammers finally die. In the distance, I can hear Veer’s cries piercing my heart, but I can’t tear my eyes away from that shrinking dot in the sky.

My Dad is up there, at the mercy of Zayed Qureshi, because I wasn’t good enough, wasn’t fast enough, wasn’t smart enough to see through Zayed’s plan.

But this isn’t over. Zayed Qureshi made the biggest mistake of his life today.

I will hunt him.

I will find him.

And I will fucking end him.

This war has only just begun.

I rise slowly, picking up Zayed’s discarded mask. My voice is calm, cold as steel as I speak to my team.

“I want every resource we have tracking that helicopter. Call Ayaan, call Krish, call every contact we’ve got. I don’t care what it takes or who I have to kill.”

I crush the mask in my hand as my team disperses into action.

I’m going to find Dad, and then... I’m going to make Zayed wish he’d never been born.

He wanted to see a demon? I’ll show him one.

I’ll show him what happens when you dare to touch a Walia…

CHAPTER 39

VISHNU