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The brothers flaunted their presence and wealth everywhere they went. Their parties were legendary, their womanizing ways even more so, and the way they dealt with those who crossed them was worse. There were rumors that each of them had killed some of their enemies at a point.
Ruthless, threatening, unforgiving, and dangerous were only some of the adjectives people used for them. Many even believed them to be a part of the mafia. Until now, he hadn’t cared much about their dealings. They used several of his ships for their various businesses and had recently bought a massive two hundred and fifty-million-dollar yacht from him, the very same one he believed Navya and Sheena were aboard. He’d never met the Oshnovs personally till date, but that was going to change in the next hour.
Rajiv made a call to his personal assistant. It was one in the morning, but Rajiv paid the man well enough to demand his aid at any time of the day. There was information he needed right that very moment, and plans to be set in motion. He disconnected the line, confident that in the next few minutes, everything he’d asked for would be in place.
“The Oshnovs had a party aboard their yacht tonight,” Aaryan said, coming toward him. “They took off for the high seas just a little while ago. I have someone monitoring their coordinates as we speak.”
Rajiv gave him a grateful nod. Despite being in hiding, Aaryan had his sources everywhere, and right now, he was thankful to his friend for his quick action and thinking.
“That’s the yacht they bought from Poseidon,” Rajiv informed his friends. “It has a helipad. My assistant is organizing a chopper for me at the Al Maktoum Airfield. I have to go.”
“We’ll come with you,” Vihaan offered.
“You know, you can’t. Neither of you can. I refuse to put any of you in front of Mihir Oshnov. He’s a dog who will dig and dig until he finds out more about you. He will use any info that he finds and sell it to your enemies, if it suits his purpose. So, no. I will not jeopardise your safety, ever.”
“That is a risk I’m willing to take for you,” Aaryan said quietly.
“Absolutely not,” Rajiv spurned.
Vihaan threw his hands up. “You’re putting yourself in danger, and you expect us to sit tight and do nothing?”
“Rajiv, going alone and facing them is not safe,” Aaryan argued. “You know the three of them are always together.”
“Please, guys, let’s not argue on this,” Rajiv implored. “I cannot put a target on your back by taking either of you along. Their curiosity will be roused simply because I brought you with me. It’s my job to keep you safe. Allow me to do that.”
Vihaan looked like he was going to say something, but Aaryan put a hand on his shoulder, silencing him.
Rajiv turned to leave.
“Wait,” Aaryan said. “You need to change. Your suit is crumpled and so is your shirt. You cannot meet Mihir Oshnov looking like that. You need to look in absolute control. Come with me.”
Aaryan led him to his bedroom and offered him a fresh suit and a clean shirt. Ten minutes later, Rajiv was in Aaryan’s black Toyota SUV, with Aaryan driving, much to Rajiv’s annoyance. Rajiv’s phone beeped, and he read through everything that his assistant had sent him. They entered the airfield, and no one stopped them when they made their way right to the waiting helicopter.
Aaryan halted the SUV and turned to him. “You have two hours, Rajiv. If you’re not back, then no one and nothing is going to stop me from barging on that yacht. I don’t care if that bastard finds out who I am. We ran once from some fuckers, and we will do the same again if we have to. But I will come for you. That is a promise.”
Rajiv nodded. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“I’m going to wait for you right here, okay? Be safe.”
Rajiv climbed out of the car and boarded the chopper. Within moments, they were airborne, flying in the direction of the yacht as per the coordinates Aaryan had given him. His mind swirled with worry for his sister and for Sheena. Just a little while more, and he’d get them out of there, he vowed.
21
The chopper landed smoothly atop the uppermost deck of Mihir Oshnov’s yacht. The second Rajiv stepped off the helicopter, he was surrounded by four armed men carrying machine guns. One of them came forward and body searched him.
“I want to speak to your boss,” he ordered the man once he was done. “Tell him Rajiv Mehra is here.”
The man tapped his right ear and spoke something in Russian. A second later, he pointed his gun to the side and began to walk forward. Taking that as his cue, Rajiv followed the man into the yacht and down a long corridor. They reached the end, and the man knocked on a door. A harsh word in Russian came in response.
The man opened the door and splayed a hand out for Rajiv. Rajiv entered what happened to be an office space and came face-to-face with three men. He only focused on the man seated behind the desk, in front of a pitch-black glass wall. Mihir Oshnov—easily recognizable because of that gruesome scar on his face. That scar made him look threatening and frightening. But Rajiv was neither frightened nor threatened by him or the two men who flanked him—his brothers, he presumed. The one on the right, recognizable because of his signature black-rimmed glasses, was Vedant, and on the left, with mischief sparking on his face, was Armaan. Rajiv had read enough about them to recognize each one.
“I’m here, just as you wanted,” Rajiv said, his tone clipped. “So, what will it take for you to return the girls to me?”
Mihir tilted his head to the side, hiding the scar from his view. “No greetings, no small talk. Is that how you talk to one of your biggest clients, da?”
“This is not a social call, Oshnov. Let’s not pretend otherwise.”
Mihir pointed to the chair in front of him. “Please sit. Let us discuss.”
