Location: Imperial Tower, Suite 1501, Time: Evening
The private elevator opened with a soft chime. Dev stepped out, his figure composed but clearly uneasy. He wore a navy-blue shirt, well-ironed but plain. He had shaved. Combed his hair. Even worn the watch Aakash had given him some time ago.
The hallway was early quiet — not in the way of emptiness, but in the way of wealth. The suite at the end bore no name, no guard. Just a door, slightly ajar, as if inviting him into something irreversible.
He pushed it open. Inside, everything was muted elegance: marble floors, warm golden lighting, sleek modern furniture. A wall of glass gave a view of the city skyline, glittering like constellations at ground level.
By the window stood a man in a charcoal suit, holding a crystal glass of water, back turned.
Dev didn't need an introduction.
Riyansh Madhvan. The aura of control was unmistakable. Not flashy — but unnerving in its restraint.
Riyansh turned. His eyes met Dev's — calm, sharp, and assessing. Not cruel. But unreadable.
"Tea?" he asked, walking over to the bar counter.
Dev shook his head. "No… thank you."
Riyansh nodded. "Sit."
Dev did, lowering himself onto a leather chair that probably cost more than his entire month's salary.
Riyansh didn't sit. He leaned slightly against the bar, arms folded.
"You're Dev Mital."
"Yes."
"Where do you work?"
"I quit my job."
"And you've known Vivaan for how long?"
"Few weeks."
Riyansh's jaw moved, subtly. "You knew nothing?"
"Nothing." Dev met his eyes. "He said his family was complicated. That was it."
"He lied."
"No," Dev said, surprising even himself with the calmness of his voice. "He omitted. There's a difference."
A pause.
Riyansh walked forward now. Not aggressive, but deliberate. He took the chair opposite Dev and sat down, his movements sharp but graceful.
"I'm not shady," Dev said softly.
"I know." Riyansh's voice didn't rise. "But the optics are. Do you understand that?"
"Yes."
Riyansh stared at him for a long beat. "Then why are you here?"
Dev blinked. "Because you asked me."
Riyansh leaned back. "Not many would come."
"I'm not many."
Another pause. Riyansh studied him. The quiet dignity. The unfashionable shoes. The weary strength.
"You're not what I expected," he murmured.
Dev smiled faintly. "I get that a lot."
Silence hung again.
Then Riyansh asked: "Do you love him?"
Dev looked out at the skyline, then back. "I don't know what your family calls love. But when he's with me, he breathes differently. Like he's finally home. And when he's gone, I feel it before I check my phone. So… yes. I do."
Riyansh nodded slowly, eyes sharp — not unkind, but guarded.
"I'm not here to threaten you," he said. "But I needed to see you for myself. Because Vivaan doesn't always think with consequence. And where he's from… the fall is longer."
Riyansh (quiet, dangerous): "Leave him."
Dev: "No."
Riyansh (firm): "I'm not asking for a debate. I'm laying out consequences."
Dev (stepping forward): "Is this what you do when you're scared? Threaten people until they run?"
Riyansh (sharp smile): "I don't run. I erase obstacles."
He stepped closer, voice like a blade now.
Riyansh: "I know who you are, Dev Mital. Modest background. No leverage. No position. You're a footnote trying to become a headline."
Dev (calm but shaking): "I didn't know who he was when I met him."
Riyansh: "And now that you do? You think you belong in that world?"
Dev: "I never claimed to. But I love him."
Riyansh's expression changed—tightened into something cruel and cold.
Riyansh (clipped): "He doesn't love you. You're a phase. A rebellion."
Dev: "Then why are you so afraid of me?"
Silence.
Riyansh (soft, lethal): "You're not my concern. Your family is."
Dev stiffened.
Riyansh: "Akash?Your uncle? Evicted from everywhere? Blacklisted across City D. No one hire you. No one will even ask why."
Dev: "You're blackmailing me with my people."
Riyansh: "No, Dev. I'm giving you an option."
Dev: "You think love ends because you say so?"
Riyansh (flat): "It will if you care about anyone else in your life."
He handed over a sealed envelope.
Riyansh: "Inside are relocation documents. Funds. Don't tell him anything about our conversation,just let him go." Break up with him and let him leave the house .
Dev didn't open it.
Riyansh (final): "I want him focused. Not fragile."
Dev exhaled, long and slow.
Dev (voice trembling): "This is the ugliest version of love I've ever seen."
Riyansh (flat): "No. This is what protection looks like."
Mital's House
The night was thick with silence. Not peaceful, but suffocating. Dev lay curled on the left side of his bed, clutching the pillow as if it were the only anchor keeping him from shattering.
Riyansh's words played on loop in his mind. The envelope still lay unopened on the dresser, like a ghost made of paper. He had done it. He had told Vivaan to leave.
And the way Vivaan had looked at him — not angry, not heartbroken, but betrayed — haunted him more than Riyansh's threats ever could.
FLASHBACK — Earlier That Evening
Vivaan had come into the Mital house humming softly, holding two kulfis from the corner stall. He found Dev in the drawing room, tense and withdrawn, as if waiting for execution.
Vivaan (smiling, teasing): "I got the badam one. Your favourite. Bribe for ignoring my texts all day."
Dev (coldly): "I can't do this anymore."
Vivaan blinked. "Do what?"
Dev: "This. Us. It's over."
Silence. Pure. Unfiltered. Shock.
Vivaan chuckled nervously. "Okay, you're joking. Bad joke. Not funny."
Dev (hard): "I'm not joking. Leave the house tonight, Vivaan. I don't want to see you again."
Vivaan took a step closer. "Why are you saying this?"
Dev (pulling away): "Because I don't love you. I never did."
Vivaan's voice cracked. "Stop."
Dev (pushing through the lie): "I wanted someone to help me get into the music scene. You were… the perfect opportunity. A rich boy with a lonely heart. I used you."
The words hung in the air, deadly and poisonous.
Vivaan didn't move. His breath stuttered. But his eyes — they didn't believe it. Couldn't.
He stepped forward, grabbed Dev by the collar, and pulled him in for a desperate, angry kiss. It wasn't soft or sweet. It was a plea.
Vivaan (whispered against his lips): You don't mean that. Tell me what really happened."
Dev stood still. Unmoving. A statue of pain. And in that silence — Vivaan knew. Someone had gotten to him.
Vivan left his house and went directly to a bar. He then called his friend, Riyan: "I'm at the bar. Come ASAP."
Riyan started to ask what was wrong, but Vivan ended the call. A text message from Vivan then arrived: "Bring your apartment key, one where no one lives." Confused, Riyan grabbed his keys and hurried to the bar. He found a pale Vivan nursing a drink.
"What's going on?" Rayn asked.
Vivan took Riyan's car key and apartment key and drove directly to Dev's house.
Now — 3:23 AM
Vivaan stood outside the Mital house in a hoodie, trembling. In one hand — Riyan's apartment key and car fob. His other hand curled tight around a half-empty bottle of scotch.
He scaled the boundary wall. Slipped through the balcony door. Quiet. Steady.
Dev was asleep. Or pretending to be. Face turned away.
Vivaan walked straight to him. Sat beside him.
Vivaan (softly): "You want to leave me? Fine. But not before I show you what happens when someone tries to use me. Hurt me."
He gripped Dev's wrist. Dev stirred. Blinked. Gasped.
Dev (half-asleep, panicked): "Vivaan—what are you doing?"
Vivaan: "Getting answers."
Dev: "Let go. Don't do this."
Vivaan (pulling him upright): "You said I was a moment. A mistake. A stepping stone. So why are you shaking now?"
Dev tried to resist — but Vivaan was relentless. His pain had turned into adrenaline. He dragged Dev to the car. Slammed the door. Drove. Not fast. But precise. Destination clear.
Location: Riyan's Spare Apartment | 4:07 AM
It was barely furnished — one mattress, a lamp, and silence.
Vivaan pushed the door open. Pulled Dev in.
Locked it.
Dev (angry now): "What the hell do you want from me?"
Vivaan stood in the dim light. Jaw clenched. Eyes glassy but burning.