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I take a moment before answering, knowing that ignoring his calls is not an option. The phone connects me to the looming threat. I sense Krish’s eyes on me, the unspoken acknowledgement that they’re tapping the call to trace Raghav’s location, if necessary. With a deep breath, I answer the call.
“Brother,” Raghav’s voice cuts through the line, a sinister calmness underlining his words.
“What do you want?” I respond, maintaining my composure.
He chuckles, a dark sound that reverberates through the phone. “I just wanted to say hello, brother. It’s been a while.”
I tighten my grip on the phone, the tension radiating through me. “Cut the games, Raghav. Why are you calling?”
“Oh, no games today, Ayaan. Just a friendly warning,” he drawls. “You might want to keep an eye on your foster father. Things might get interesting at ‘Krida Udhyan.’”
My heart quickens. The ominous feeling intensifies, confirming my fears. Raghav’s sinister voice slithers through the phone, each word laced with a wicked intent.
“Your father-in-law, Pratap Walia, delivers an impressive speech, by the way. If only there was some truth to his promises to the people? How far will he go to deceive the common man for support and votes? And I can’t believe that you sent Kailash Shergill here to support him.”
Panic tightens its grip on me. I can hear Pratap Walia’s voice amplified by the speakers, addressing the crowd. Raghav is right where the campaign is taking place, a troublemaker lurking amidst the chaos.
“I mean, he should be careful. What if the haters in this crowd pelt stones or blast the stage?” He continues his taunting assault, predicting the potential disasters that may befall the rally. “Your dad is sitting too close to Pratap Walia on the stage. There are high chances that if this crowd turns against them, he, too, will be hurt in their rage.”
I can’t contain my anger. “Raghav—”
“And how could you let your wife go alone to attend the family function?” he interrupts, his voice relentless.
He knows Meher’s whereabouts? That’s not good.
“You know, her relatives are asking for you. Why didn’t you go with her? It’s unfair, Ayaan, to not accompany your wife to such family functions. Newlyweds should stick together, right? You can’t expect your twin brother to teach you these little things. And most importantly, how did you allow her to venture out amidst all these threats? What if something disastrous happens there, and Meher gets abducted again? Or, even worse, what if another vehicle collides with hers on the way back? Remember what happened last time with Kailash Shergill at the Mahabalipur ghats?”
My anger escalates.
“Don’t you dare touch my family, Raghav. And this time, it is not a warning; remember that,” I shout back.
He laughs, a mirthless sound that sends shivers down my spine. “How many times will you repeat the same thing, Ayaan? Not to hurt your family? I can’t guarantee that. Anything can happen anywhere with anyone. You chose Shergills and Walias over your biological family, didn’t you? Now let’s see whom you prioritise—the father who raised you or the woman you love, your wife. Either way, your lifeline is in my hands. I won’t hesitate to decide how to cut that lifeline forever. The countdown begins... Try and save them if you can.”
He disconnects the call, leaving me seething with anger and helplessness. Krish, who overhears the conversation, immediately instructs the team to provide additional support at the event Meher is attending and the campaign where both our fathers are present. Meanwhile, I dial Meher in desperation, but her phone stubbornly refuses to connect. Next, I call Trisha, who is with her, but the network connection is too weak to convey the warning about the imminent threat to Meher at the event. A growl escapes me, a mixture of frustration and rage.
“Ayaan, I’ll accompany the team to the event where Meher is. I promise to bring her back safely.” Krish assures me.
“Do whatever it takes, but just don’t let anything happen to my Meher,” I plead.
“I promise she’ll be fine,” he assures me.
Even though I trust him, my heart pounds with an unspoken fear.
“He’s there at the campaign site. I won’t let him slip away this time, Krish,” I declare, sprinting to my car, determined to reach ‘Krida Udhyan’ and protect Dad. I’ll not let Raghav win this time. He won’t harm any of us again. I quickly dial Vishnu to alert him about the potential danger. He’s with the Walias and Dad at the campaign.
“Yeah, Ayaan,” Vishnu responds.
“Stay alert,” I say in a rushed voice. “Raghav has threatened to create chaos or mishaps at the campaign. We can’t trust him. I am reaching there in 15 minutes.”
“What the f—” he stops himself before completing the expletive. “Don’t worry; I’ll keep a close watch. As soon as they finish the speech, I’ll escort the family back home.” Vishnu’s voice carries a blend of anger and concern.
I end the call, urging him to stay vigilant. As I accelerate the vehicle, I dial Meher once more to warn her. However, her call fails to connect again. A stream of curses escapes my lips as I pound my fists on the steering wheel while driving through the city. The urgency to reach the campaign venue overwhelms my senses. The countdown has begun, and the stakes have never been higher.
Just a mile away from Krida Udhyan, my phone rings again. It’s Raghav. I answer the call in a fit of rage.
“So you chose to save your father instead of Meher?” he taunts. “Poor Meher, what will she go through when she finds out that her husband chose to first save the man who isn’t even his biological father, and not her? She’ll be so hurt.”
“Enough,” I shout. “Just pray to God that I don’t find you today. Because if I do, it will be your last day on this planet.”
