Devil's Leverage

Devil's Leverage
Siara had faced death before.

She had fought her way through worse odds, walked through fire, and survived battles that should have broken her.

But this moment—this one, miserable, damn moment—had her body frozen.

She stood on the narrow ledge, the world stretching below her in a blur of lights and distance. Her breath came in sharp bursts, her pulse hammering against her ribs. Her stitches throbbed, and her limbs felt like dead weight, but none of it mattered.

Because she was so, so close to getting out of here.

And then, of course—

He had to ruin it.

"Siara," Ekansh’s voice was calm, but she wasn’t stupid enough to mistake it for kindness. "Step down. Now."

She didn't move.

Didn’t even spare him a glance.

Instead, she gritted her teeth and took another small step forward, fingers tightening against the cold railing.

"I mean it, Siara," he said, his voice carrying a thread of warning now. "You’re already in no condition to pull a stunt like this."

She let out a humorless laugh. "Oh, I’m sorry. Should I have sent a request for permission before attempting my escape?"

A sharp exhale. "You know this won't end well for you."

"Then let it end badly," she shot back, voice laced with defiance. "But I’m not stepping down just because you asked nicely."

She finally turned her head just enough to catch a glimpse of him from the corner of her eye.

His face was unreadable. Cold. Calculated.

And that was the most dangerous version of Ekansh Rajawat.

He tilted his head, almost as if assessing something, before his lips curled into something that almost resembled a smirk. "You always make things so difficult for yourself, don’t you?"

Siara clenched her jaw. "And you always make things so much easier for me to hate you."

That made his smirk grow.

God, she hated that look.

"Siara." His tone dropped, lower now, more dangerous. "Step down."

She inhaled sharply, willing herself to keep steady.

But then—

"You know, it’s funny," he mused, stepping closer, hands in his pockets. "For all your bravado, you really don’t think things through, do you?"

Something about his tone made unease curl in her gut.

"Threatening me won’t work," she said, voice sharp.

"Oh, I know." He sighed, like this was all so inconvenient for him. "So I won’t threaten you."

There was a brief pause. A fraction of a second where the air seemed to still.

Then—

"You will step down, Siara," he said, slow and measured. "Or your sister will pay for it."

Siara’s blood ran cold.

Slowly, her head turned fully toward him, expression blank. "You’re bluffing."

Ekansh merely raised a brow.

She scoffed. "I have the best security team, Ekansh. There is no way you—"

Her voice cut off.

Because he pulled out his phone.

And showed her live footage.

Siara’s breath stopped.

There, on the screen, was Advika—laughing, carefree, completely oblivious to the red dot hovering over her shoulder.

A sniper.

Lurking.

Waiting.

Targeting.

Her nails dug into her palm.

"Why does this damn girl never keep security with her?!" she growled under her breath. "Why, God?"

This was exactly the problem with Advika.

She walked through life with an easy confidence, a lightheartedness that made her seem untouchable. She never thought twice before heading out alone, never worried about security because she trusted Siara to have everything under control.

Which, usually, she did.

But Siara wasn’t in control right now.

Ekansh was.

And that—

That made her furious.

Oh, once this was over? Advika was dead.

Not by any sniper.

But by Siara’s own hands.

And she was going to make sure she felt it.

She could already picture it—

Advika sitting on the couch, all relaxed and smiling, thinking she had somehow charmed her way out of danger yet again. And then Siara? Oh, she’d drag her by the ear if she had to, sit her down, and give her the scolding of a lifetime.

"Are you insane?" she would yell. "Do you have a death wish? What part of 'you need security' does that empty head of yours not understand?"

And Advika, in her usual calm way, would probably just shrug and say something ridiculous like—

"Relax, Di. See? I’m fine!"

That was when Siara would lose it.

"Oh, you will be dead, alright—by my hands!"

But right now?

Right now, she couldn’t scold her.

Because right now, she needed to save her.

Siara forced herself to breathe, her focus snapping back to Ekansh.

"You’re a bastard," she hissed.

He smirked. "Not news to me."

And then, like twisting the knife deeper, he zoomed out of the footage.

More screens popped up.

Her mother, elegantly draped in a gold saree, talking to someone at the wedding function.

Her father, standing beside her, laughing as he greeted an old friend.

Her uncle and aunt, seated in a dimly lit restaurant, chatting over a meal with Rudra.

Her grandfather, sitting cross-legged at the kirtan, eyes closed in prayer.

Siara felt her stomach drop.

Ekansh let the silence stretch before speaking again, voice eerily calm.

"You think I couldn’t have done this before? When we were rivals?" He let out a quiet chuckle. "I could have, Siara. But I didn’t. Because then, it was business. A game of strategy, a battle to see who would come out on top. But this?" His eyes darkened. "This isn’t rivalry anymore. This is personal."

Her hands curled into fists.

He was right.

Back when they were just competitors, he never stooped to targeting family. He could have easily used these tactics to bring Rajawats down, but he hadn’t.

Because then, it was about winning.

Now?

Now, it was about breaking her.

Her breath came fast, uneven.

She hated this.

Hated the fact that she believed him.

Because Ekansh never bluffed.

He never needed to.

Siara forced herself to meet his gaze.

She tried to glare. To spit out something sharp, something cutting.

But her words died on her tongue.

Because the moment she tried to move—

Her body betrayed her.

A sharp stab of pain shot through her side.

Her vision swam.

Her breath hitched.

And then—

For the first time in her life—

She was scared of heights.

And it had to happen now.

Her fingers tightened around the railing.

Ekansh took another slow step forward.

"You know what to do, Siara," he murmured. "Get. Off. That. Ledge."

She squeezed her eyes shut.

Dammit.

Dammit.

Her lips parted
.

Her foot moved.

And then—

She stopped.

A flicker of defiance sparked in her chest.

She turned back to him, her smirk faint but sharp.

"I can't."

Ekansh's eyes narrowed.

And just like that—

The game changed.