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Ayaan glares at him, unshaken, his expression one of deadly calm. “Vishnu alone is enough to handle a psycho like you, Zayed. My team and I? We’re just here to give him company.”

Zayed’s expression darkens instantly. His eyes burn with rage. He gestures to Shasha, who presses the gun harder against my father’s forehead, his finger hovering dangerously close to the trigger.

“Enough!” I snap, stepping forward instinctively, my fists clenched so hard that my nails dig into my palms. “Leave my father out of this, Zayed! If you have a problem with me, then take it out on me!”

Zayed tilts his head, a dark glint flashing in his eyes. “Oh, I know exactly who my problem is, Vishnu.” He closes the distance between us, his voice dripping with venom. “For six years, I’ve lived through hell… knowing you were the one who drove my father to pull the trigger on himself. Six f*cking years, that thought has eaten me alive, day after day.”

His fingers twitch, his rage barely contained. “And now, here you are—the man who took everything away from me. Did you really think I’d just let you go?”

He scoffs, his eyes dark with fury. “But you underestimate me. Why would I settle for one Walia when I have the chance to kill two?” His wicked smile widens. “Father and son… both gone. Forever. And do you know who’s after that? It will be your son Veer’s turn.”

A red-hot fury ignites within me. My entire body tenses as I glare at him. “You want me? Fine. I’m right here. But if you think you’ll walk away from this alive, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Zayed grins, relishing the challenge. “Is that so?” He cracks his knuckles, his voice low and deadly. “How about a little test? Let’s see what’s stronger—my thirst to destroy you… or your pathetic attempt to save your father.”

I don’t hesitate. “You’re going to lose. Badly.”

Zayed barks out a laugh. “We’ll see.” He then turns to Shasha, his tone icy. “If Vishnu falls, kill his father.”

Shasha nods, tightening his grip on the gun.

A cold shiver runs down my spine. My father’s life hangs by a thread—and that thread is me.

Ayaan and I exchange a calculated glance, plotting our next move. We need an opening. A way to knock that gun away from Shasha before it’s too late.

I step forward. Zayed does the same.

My fist connects with Zayed’s jaw, and a satisfying crack echoes through the air. He staggers back, blood trickling from his lip, but the sick grin on his face doesn’t fade.

“Is this all you’ve got?” he taunts, wiping the blood away with the back of his hand. His eyes burn with revenge. “I’ve waited years for this, Vishnu.”

With a furious growl, Zayed lunges at me, his fists swinging wildly. I duck just in time, my instincts sharp, and counter with a brutal uppercut to his ribs. He gasps, stumbling back, but recovers quickly and delivers a vicious punch to my gut. Pain explodes in my stomach, but I refuse to stop. I push forward with everything I’ve got, landing a solid punch to his temple. He reels back, crashing into the glass wall behind him.

The mirror shatters from the impact, shards raining down on us like confetti. Blood runs down his forehead, but he merely licks his lips, eyes burning with manic rage.

With a roar, he charges again, his fists crashing into my ribs, my face, and my shoulder. I retaliate with equal ferocity, throwing him against the wall once more and slamming my knee into his stomach.

We’re both bleeding now, our breaths ragged and shallow, but neither of us is willing to back down.

Then, from the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Ayaan.

His sharp gaze locks on Shasha, who is too engrossed in our fight to notice that his grip on his gun is weakening. The barrel hovers just inches above my father’s head, dangerously loose. Seizing the opportunity, Ayaan nudges a jagged piece of glass at his feet and, in one swift motion, kicks it hard. The shard sails through the air like a dagger and strikes Shasha’s wrist with deadly accuracy.

“Arghh!” Shasha yelps in pain, and the gun slips from his hand and clatters to the ground.

Ayaan wastes no time and instantly lunges at him.

“You made the worst mistake of your life today,” Ayaan growls, his voice dangerously low as his fist slams into Shasha’s jaw with brutal force. He leans in close, eyes blazing. “Never challenge a King… because a King always wins.”

Shasha spits out blood and tries to strike back, but Ayaan is faster. He drives a knee into Shasha’s ribs, followed by a crushing elbow jab to his temple.

Shasha stumbles, dazed, but Ayaan doesn’t give him a chance to recover. He spins and delivers a precise kick to Shasha’s chest, sending him sprawling to the floor, unconscious.

With Shasha down, Ayaan rushes to my father’s side. “Hold on,” he says urgently to Dad, his hands working quickly to free him.

Dad coughs weakly. Relief floods through me as I see him alive and safe. Ayaan has him. Now it’s my turn to end this.

Zayed senses the shift, his eyes wild with desperation. With a feral roar, he charges at me like a wounded beast. I meet him head-on, grabbing him by the collar and ramming his head into the already fractured glass wall. The mirror shatters completely, the shards cutting into his skin. He screams in agony as blood streams down his face in crimson streaks.