Chapter Two Hundred and Seventy One.

Chapter Two Hundred and Seventy One.
They all turned to see Vihaan approaching with Mr. Madhav and Mr. Sengar.

“You came,” Vihaan said with a faint smile toward his younger brother.

Veda took a step toward Arjun. “Please, get Meera back. Please.”

Varun’s gaze flicked down at her, but the slight tightening of his jaw was enough to reveal the truth, he hated seeing her like this. Hated that someone else’s actions were putting that fear in her eyes.

“Go inside, Veda.” Varun said suddenly.

She hesitated, meeting his eyes. Then, with a reluctant nod, she turned to Arjun one last time before walking away toward the venue.

“Did you get any clue on who took her?” Varun asked, his tone flat but carrying weight.

“Shaurya..” Karan replied grimly.

“Looks like he got ahead of us..” Vihaan added, glancing at the blackened husks of the cars. The fire was nearly out now, smoke curling into the night sky.

“Vikram’s on the way with vehicles..” Karan said.

Varun gave a short nod, then pulled out his phone. He didn’t look at anyone as he dialed.

One ring. “Amrit. Seize down every outgoing flight from Mumbai tonight. If you see a man named Shaurya Kulkarni on any manifest, send it directly to Yash. Now.”

The men exchanged glances, caught off guard by the authority in his tone.

Varun ended the call and dialed again. “Yash. I need five snipers positioned around Shaurya’s estate. Fire only on my command. Did Amrit send you the data?” A pause. “Good. That prick got Veda upset. I don’t tolerate that.”

He hung up.

Karan’s mouth was half-open, Siddhartha was silent but visibly impressed. Arjun walked toward Varun, his eyes steady.

Varun met his gaze. “I’m only doing this because the bastard made Veda sad… and I hate that.”

Engines roared as a convoy of vehicles pulled in.

Then, without warning, Varun’s expression shifted. His lips curled into a grin, not warm at all, it was twisted. It made Karan’s stomach drop, though Mr. Sengar, Vihaan, and Arjun didn’t so much as flinch.

“Let’s go hunting..” Varun said.

He slid into the driver’s seat without a word, the leather creaking under his weight.

Arjun followed, shutting the door with a firm thunk. Karan and Vikram split off into the other vehicles, their men piling into the SUVs behind them.

No one wasted time, the engines came alive in a low growl, headlights slicing through the darkness as the convoy rolled out.

On the steps of the venue, Mr. Madhav and Mr. Sengar stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the taillights vanish down the road.

“Your son…” Mr. Madhav’s voice was low, but there was an edge to it. “How dangerous is he again?”

Mr. Sengar didn’t answer immediately. His gaze stayed locked on the road.

“Let’s just say…” he finally murmured, “…no one should get him angry.”

It was Vihaan who turned to look at Mr. Madhav, his mouth curving into a smirk. “You’ll see for yourself.”

Mr. Madhav’s jaw tightened, the air between them was heavy with things unsaid.

♤♤♤

Shaurya paced his room, phone pressed to his ear. His voice was sharp, each word bitten off.

“What do you mean the airport is seized? I don’t care, get the jet ready!”

He cut the call with a hard swipe, shoving the phone into his pocket.

His gaze slid to the bed, and his expression softened into something possessive.

Meera lay there, still deep in sleep, the soft rise and fall of her chest the only movement.

Her wedding lehenga fanned around her like spilled rubies, the jewels at her wrists and neck catching the low light.

Shaurya stepped closer, crouching at the edge of the mattress. His hand hovered above her cheek, almost touching...

The door burst open.

Zayn rushed in, his face tense. “Shaurya, something’s wrong. You need to come downstairs now.”

Shaurya’s irritation flashed. He straightened slowly, his jaw tight. One last look at Meera… then he turned and stalked to the door, yanking it open and slamming it behind him.

The noise made Meera stir. She shifted against the pillows, her lashes fluttering, and a faint crease formed between her brows.

Downstairs, Shaurya descended into a scene of tense readiness. His men were armed, lined along the walls and by the windows.

“What is this?” he demanded.

“Arjun’s on his way here,” Ravi said grimly. “And he’s not alone.”

Shaurya’s teeth ground together.

“Don’t worry.” Tejas said, flexing his gloved hands. “We’ll take care of him.”

Ravi’s mouth twitched. “That might be a little harder than you think. He’s here with–”

♤♤♤

Meera’s eyes blinked open fully now. The room was unfamiliar, richly decorated, but cold.

Her temples throbbed, and she pressed a hand to her head, trying to piece together the fragments in her mind.

And then she saw it, the heavy lehenga she still wore. The bangles that jangled faintly as she moved her hands.

Her breath caught. Memories came rushing back in jagged flashes, the woman that came to meet her, and then nothing until now.

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

She pushed herself up, ignoring the dizziness, and glanced at the door.

To her surprise, the handle turned easily beneath her fingers.

A chance.

She slipped out, the fabric of her skirts brushing against the polished floor.

She moved quickly despite the weight of her clothes, the sound of her bangles and anklets like tiny alarms in the silence.

She reached the top of the stairs—

And froze.

Down below, Shaurya stood in the middle of the hall, surrounded by armed men.

“…I don’t care. He won’t survive. Today, Arjun dies.”

Shaurya’s words were like ice, but they struck Meera like a slap.

Her eyes widened in shock, a sharp breath escaping her. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth, but the faint chime of her bangles betrayed her.

Shaurya’s head snapped up. Their eyes met.

She froze for half a heartbeat. Then his lips curved into a slow, smile as he took a step toward the stairs.

Meera’s pulse kicked hard.

She stumbled back, then turned and bolted down the hallway.

The swish of her lehenga trailed behind her, her bangles clinking like warning bells.

Shaurya didn’t chase immediately, he simply smirked, rolling his shoulders like a man warming up for the hunt.

But then..

The night exploded.

Gunfire ripped through the living hall windows, glass shattering in glittering arcs as bullets tore into the space.

Shaurya’s men dropped fast, some hit instantly, others diving behind overturned furniture for cover. The air filled with smoke, splintered wood, and the stench of gunpowder.

The barrage lasted long, brutal seconds. Then… silence.

Shaurya’s jaw tightened.

The front doors slammed inward, one panel hanging crooked from the force.

Varun stepped through first.

His eyes swept over the chaos, the dead, the wounded, the blood, and there was a flicker in his gaze that wasn’t horror. It was satisfaction.

A warlord seeing his work done right.

Then Arjun entered. His sherwani top was gone, replaced by a sweat-dampened shirt clinging to his shoulders, but the gold-trimmed wedding pants remained.

Shaurya’s teeth ground together.

“Arjun..” he said, forcing his irritation into something colder, sharper. “Happy wedding day.”