Chapter 40 Missile Neutralized
His secret bodyguard immediately moves to the control system and begins hacking into it. The countdown ticks, but so does J.K.’s fate.
Through broken breaths, J.K. sneers, “You think you’ve won?”
Samar bends slightly, a cold smirk curling his lips, and replies, “I don’t think, I know.”
Just then, the guard shouts,
“Sir, missile defused!”
The screen flashes ‘MISSILE NEUTRALIZED’. Color drains from J.K.’s face. His dreams, his ambitions they collapse in that very moment.
Samar stares into his eyes once more and says,
“This was your final game and with it, your time ends too.”
J.K. collapses, his body riddled with six bullets, his face etched with the undeniable mark of defeat.
Samar casts one last glance at him before turning away and ordering, “Arrest everyone. Take him too. The country is safe now… but judgment is coming.”
J.K.’s body is drenched in blood. His breath comes in ragged gasps, eyes filled with fear and defeat. His ambitions, his arrogance, his entire plan everything lies in ruins. Yet even in this broken state, the desperate will to live still flickers inside him, a pathetic struggle, a hopeless plea from a man who has lost everything.
Samar gives a cold nod to his secret bodyguards. Two of them step forward, grab J.K. roughly, and drag him toward the jet. Once inside, his hands are bound tightly with iron cuffs, secured so firmly that even the slightest movement is impossible.
J.K. screams, his voice echoing through the cold steel of the jet, “Save me! Please! Don’t take me! Let me go!”
But Samar doesn’t even look in his direction. He climbs the jet’s stairs with calm, measured steps, face expressionless, eyes sharp and distant as if the screaming has no effect on him at all.
J.K. is shoved to the floor inside the jet, cuffed and weak, still bleeding, still begging. “Please, Samar! I’m sorry! Don’t do this to me, I don’t want to die!”
Samar is unfazed. He adjusts his black coat, removes his goggles, and silently takes his seat inside the jet, composed and unbothered.
The doors shut with a thud. Samar glances at the pilot and says only one word, “Fly.”
The jet roars to life, lifting swiftly into the sky. J.K.’s cries continue, panicked and loud,
“Please… help me! I beg you!”
Yet Samar doesn’t flinch. To him, J.K. is nothing but a fallen enemy, a man who chose evil and is now paying the price.
Within moments, Samar’s jet descends toward a hidden destination the rooftop of his secret chamber, a place completely off the grid, invisible to the outside world. No laws apply here. No mercy exists. It is a domain ruled by Samar’s iron will.
As the jet prepares to land, it jolts with a sharp thud against the rooftop, and J.K. is badly injured. His head strikes the side of the jet with force, causing a deep wound. Blood trickles down his face as he screams in pain, “Ahh! Help me! Someone, please!”
The jet lands firmly, and Samar’s elite bodyguards swiftly board, dragging J.K. up from the floor. His hands remain tightly bound, his face battered and bloodied.
“Please… don’t do this… let me go.” J.K. begs weakly. But his pleas fall on deaf ears. The guards don’t even glance at him with pity. They drag him across the rooftop and into the dark, foreboding entrance of Samar’s secret chamber.
Moments later, loud cries of pain and terror echo from inside the chamber. J.K.’s agonized screams ring out, filling the air with a chilling sense of dread. It’s clear the punishment has begun.
Meanwhile, Samar remains seated inside the jet, completely composed, unaffected by the cries piercing the air. As he listens to J.K.’s screams of suffering, a cold smirk plays on his lips. He leans back slightly, calm and collected.
Hearing J.K.’s agony, Samar whispers with quiet satisfaction, “Let’s go.”
The pilot immediately starts the engine. The jet lifts off once more, soaring into the sky, leaving behind a man broken and screaming, locked away in pain.
In India, Neeti paces restlessly inside her room. Her eyes flick again and again toward her phone, her face etched with worry. Her heart feels tangled in emotions, her mind caught in a relentless storm. No matter how hard she tries to suppress her feelings, her thoughts keep circling around one person—Shorya. His memories refuse to let her breathe in peace.
Taking a deep breath, she finally dials Shorya’s number.
The phone rings for a few seconds…
Then a familiar voice answers.
“Hello…?”
It’s Shorya.
Neeti forces a soft smile, hiding the tremble in her voice.
“Hello… how are you?”
“I’m good,” Shorya replies immediately. “How are you, Neeti?”
Her voice drops to a whisper.
“I’m fine too…”
Her heart carries a thousand unspoken questions, yet only those three words escape her lips.
Before she can say anything more, another voice breaks the moment.
A woman’s voice—sweet, confident, possessive.
“Darling, enough now… you’re only mine. Talk later.”
Neeti freezes.
Her heart skips violently. She recognizes that voice instantly. Her face turns pale.
Shorya stiffens and turns around. Sunaina walks into the room, holding a file in her hand.
Neeti swallows hard and asks quietly,
“She’s with you?”
Shorya hesitates for a moment.
“Yeah… actually, we had a meeting… so—”
Neeti forces a painful smile.
“That’s good,” she says softly. “She’s with you… so you never really miss anyone, do you?”
Shorya exhales deeply, his tone turning gentle.
“Neeti, don’t be upset. I’ve told you before… our paths are different now. I love Sunaina. And if you want, you can love someone too. I don’t have a problem with that.”
Neeti’s hands tremble. Something inside her cracks.
Still, she steadies her voice, swallows her pain, and says just one word.
“Okay.”
She ends the call.
“Hello? Neeti?” Shorya keeps calling, but the screen only shows—Call Ended.
Neeti almost drops her phone. Tears blur her vision as they spill down her cheeks. She walks to the window and looks up at the distant sky, searching for answers in its emptiness.
Her heart whispers,
“Is every relationship only about waiting… or silence?”
As stars begin to appear, her world sinks into quiet sorrow.