Raunaksh’s POV

The outskirts of the city were cloaked in silence, broken only by the crunch of gravel beneath my boots. I stepped into the abandoned warehouse, the air heavy with the stench of blood and rust. A man sat tied to a chair in the center of the room, his body battered, blood dripping onto the cold concrete.

Virat was already there, seated casually across from him, his sharp eyes glinting in the dim light. At my arrival, he rose, his posture snapping into disciplined attention before settling back in front of the prisoner.

I gave him a signal. Without hesitation, Virat hurled a bucket of water onto the man’s face. The prisoner jolted awake, coughing, his eyes wide with terror.

“You’ll never know who he is,” the man rasped, defiance flickering in his broken voice.

A smirk tugged at my lips. “We’ll see.”

I picked up a knife from the table, its blade gleaming wickedly. With deliberate calm, I drew it across his palm. His scream echoed through the room.

“Now,” I said, my voice cold as steel, “tell me the name.”

“I don’t know!” he cried, writhing against the ropes. “I only know he wants to destroy you… because you stopped his drug shipment with the army. He ordered me to kill you.”

I pressed the blade deeper into his arm, earning another howl of pain. “What other business does he run?”

“Human trafficking… drug supply,” he stammered. “But because of you, everything in Rajasthan has stopped. That’s why he sent me. I swear—I’ve never seen his face.”

Virat’s voice cut through the tension. “Bhai sa, he doesn’t know anything.”

I studied the prisoner for a moment, then exhaled slowly. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today. You’ll get an easy death.”

One of my guards stepped forward at my command. Moments later, silence fell again, broken only by the sound of his lifeless body slumping in the chair.

Virat and I walked out together. “We have to find out who’s behind this,” I muttered, my jaw tight. “Our people are suffering.”

Outside, my car awaited, flanked by four black SUVs filled with my security detail. As we settled inside, Virat turned to me, his eyes alight with something softer than the battlefield’s fire.

“Bhai sa… you met that girl, didn’t you?”

I kept my aura calm, my voice steady. “Yes.”

His questions tumbled out in a rush—“What, when, where, how?”—and I answered each one, though my mind lingered on her face.

Rathore Palace

Dinner was a quiet affair, but later, Virat and I retreated to my private chamber. No one was allowed here—except him. My brothers sometimes dared to enter, but tonight, it was only us in the study.

“Bhaisa, did you find her document?” Virat asked.

“Yes,” I replied, frowning. “But it wasn’t a document. It was a birth certificate… damaged. Only the hospital’s name is visible.”

“Give it back. It might be important to her,” he said gently.

I nodded. “Hmm.”

“Can I see her picture?” he asked.

I handed him my phone. His face lit up instantly. “Bhaisa… you like Diya. She is the anklet girl.”

I froze. Diya? I hadn’t even known her name. “How do you know her?” I demanded.

“She’s my friend,” Virat said with a smile. “I’ve known her for two years. We worked together on a mission—she’s a brilliant hacker. She helped me when we needed a tech expert. She’s sweet, hardworking, pure-hearted. Today, I met her again.”

My chest tightened. “Why is she here?”

“For her family,” he shrugged. “But… she doesn’t have good ties with them.”

Before I could respond, the door burst open. Sagar and Sahil stood there, grinning.

“Bhaisaaa!” they chorused.

“What do you want?” I asked, my tone sharp.

“Day off. We’re going out with friends,” they said, hands folded in mock prayer.

I glared, then sighed. “Fine. Leave.”

“Thank you, Bhaisa! You’re the best!” they cheered, turning to go—until Virat’s cold voice stopped them.

“What did you hear?”

My heart clenched. If those fools had overheard anything about Diya, my private love life, which didn't even started yet, would be ruined.

“Hehehe… Bhaisa, we heard… anklet.., girl.., office...,” they stammered.

I stepped closer, my voice dropping into a dark growl. “If anyone finds out, you’ll spend your entire lives working—and it still won’t be enough.”

They gulped, pale with fear. “Why are you scaring us, Bhaisa?”

“Because you two have thick skin,” Virat said dryly.

“Is that a compliment?” they muttered.

“Out,” I ordered. They vanished instantly.

Virat turned back to me. “Stay alert. Those idiots can cause trouble.”

“Do you have her number?” I asked.

He hesitated, then handed it over. “Don’t tell her I gave it to you. She’ll kill me.” With that, he left for his room.

I lay on my bed, staring at the phone. Tomorrow, I would meet her. For now, I typed a message.

Diya’s POV

I was curled up in bed when my phone buzzed.

Unknown: Hello, are you awake?

Diya: Who are you?

Unknown: You didn’t tell me your name. May I ask?

I smirked. Mr. King has guts.

Diya: How did you get my number?

Unknown: I have my ways.

Diya: Of course. Being a king, you can easily get it.

Unknown: You still haven’t told me your name.

Such a flirt. I need to focus on finding Vihaan’s father, not entertain this king’s curiosity.

Diya: When can I collect my document?

Unknown: Tomorrow. We can meet.

My heart skipped. why my heart is betraying me like i know him. or my heart knows him. Control yourself, Diya. Think of Vihaan.

Diya: Okay. Tomorrow, 1 PM. XYZ Café. If you’re comfortable.

Unknown: I’ll be there. Goodnight.

Diya: Goodnight.

I saved his number as Mr. King Rathore, placed my phone aside, and closed my eyes. Tomorrow would bring answers—and perhaps, complications.

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