Venkatesh walked closer and pulled a chair, sitting right in front of the man.
He casually took out his phone, scrolling through something, then spoke without looking up.
"Look, I want answers. And you want freedom. So tell me everything you know."
The man suddenly laughed.
"Everything?" he said mockingly. "What would I know? I'm just an ordinary office employee."
Venkatesh finally looked up.
"There's no point in acting anymore," he said calmly.
"We know you're in contact with three foreign terrorist organizations. We have proof."
He leaned slightly forward.
"So here's how this goes—until now, you would've died as an 'employee' if things went wrong.
From now on… you'll die as a terrorist."
The man's smile faded.
Noticing the hesitation in his eyes, Venkatesh unlocked his phone and pulled up a photo.
It was of an elderly woman.
He turned the screen toward him.
"Can your mother handle the shock," Venkatesh asked quietly,
"of finding out that her son is a terrorist?"
Then he swiped.
Another image appeared—a young child.
"And will your child understand," he continued,
"when people start calling him the son of a terrorist?"
The man went silent.
His jaw tightened. His breathing slowed.
For a long moment, he just stared at the screen.
---
A while later, Venkatesh stepped out of the hospital room.
SK was waiting outside.
"Well?" SK asked. "Did he talk?"
Venkatesh didn't stop walking.
"Come on. Boss has called a meeting."
---
They entered a room that looked like an ordinary corporate conference hall.
But appearances were deceiving.
Advanced technical systems lined the walls. Screens flickered to life. Everyone important was already present.
Suddenly, an audio recording began playing.
> "Arre bhaijan, salaam-walekum."
A second voice replied.
> "Walekum-as-salaam, Maksud miya. Kahiye, kaise yaad kiya? Sab khairiyat?"
> "Ji janab, khuda ki meharbani. Sab khairiyat hai. Hum apni bacchi ka nikah kar rahe the… to aapki zarurat sharik hone ki hai."
> "Kab hai? Aur shohar kaun hai?"
> "Janab, nikah Delhi mein hai. Lekin pehle gaon aa jaiye—yahan se sab saath Delhi jaayenge."
There was a pause.
> "Aur shohar… bahut kabil hai. Khuda saath de to sab kuch achhe se hoga."
> "Khuda hafiz."
> "Khuda hafiz."
The recording ended.
SK and Venkatesh exchanged looks—then turned toward their boss.
He spoke gravely.
"According to our old data analysis, the second voice belongs to Maksood—a well-known Pakistani leader with deep connections to terrorist groups."
He paused.
"And based on our assessment, this 'nikah' is code."
Silence filled the room.
"The mission location is Delhi," the boss continued.
"And that… is where the attack will take place."
Venkatesh spoke first.
"The man we captured confessed. They're planning something big—an attack unlike anything before.
If it succeeds, thousands will die."
The room went silent.
The boss tapped a button on the table.
A photograph appeared on the screen.
"Maksood has relatives living on this side of the border," he said.
"He has been spotted multiple times in this village."
The map zoomed in.
Sultanpur.
A village in Kashmir, barely twenty kilometers from the Pakistan border.
"Coincidentally," the boss continued, "there's a wedding there in two days."
Venkatesh finished his sentence for him.
"Maksood will attend that wedding.
And the Delhi operation will be finalized there."
The boss nodded grimly.
"Which means you need to leave immediately."
He glanced at his watch.
"Your flight departs in two hours."
SK hesitated.
"But sir… today is Venky's son's birthday."
The boss raised an eyebrow.
"And I wasn't even invited."
Before SK could say more, Venkatesh spoke calmly.
"Birthdays will come again, sir.
The country comes first."
For a moment, the boss simply looked at him.
Then he smiled faintly.
"That attitude is exactly why I respect you."
He straightened.
"Alright. You and SK head to the airport.
A local unit will receive you as soon as you land in Kashmir."
Venkatesh and SK stood up together.
"Yes, sir."
They saluted and walked out.
---
Outside the room, SK finally asked,
"What are you going to tell your family?"
Venkatesh didn't slow his steps.
"Same excuse as always.
Urgent work. A business trip."
---
"Business trip?"
Shakshi's voice crackled sharply through the phone.
"Are you serious right now?"
"I know," Venkatesh replied quietly.
"But this is really urgent."
There was a pause.
"More urgent than your son?" she asked sarcastically.
Venkatesh said nothing.
"…Whatever," Shakshi continued coldly.
"Do whatever you want."
The call disconnected.
Venkatesh lowered the phone and took a deep breath.
The divorce was already decided.
He blamed himself for it.
He had never given his family enough time.
And Shakshi… had looked for that time elsewhere.
Without another word, Venkatesh put on his black sunglasses and followed SK into the airport.
---
Back home, Shakshi and Kirti had ordered everything online.
Decorations. Food. Cake.
In the original novel, they were supposed to attend someone else's party.
But this time… they were hosting one themselves.
Venkatesh had always been called away to Kashmir before.
History was simply repeating itself.
---
A while later, Aarav stepped out of his room.
He walked quietly toward a special door at the end of the hallway.
Venkatesh's private room.
Always password-protected.
Aarav stood in front of it and typed the code.
Click.
The door unlocked.
He had known the password since childhood.
He had seen his father enter it countless times.
He had even snuck inside before.
Once, he had found a gun.
And blackmailed his father into fulfilling his demands.
After that, Venkatesh had changed the password.
Many times.
Each time… Aarav figured it out again.
Eventually, Venkatesh gave up.
Now, only a handful of people could access this room.
Aarav entered and turned on the computer.
He logged in using the credentials already burned into his memory.
The interface loaded.
Information about the current mission appeared on screen.
Nothing new.
Everything was unfolding exactly as he remembered.
He closed the file.
Then, from the deep database, he pulled out someone's profile.
One name.
Wasim khan
Everyone was laughing while watching Aarav and Venkatesh's little act, unaware of the danger hiding behind that laughter.
On the screen, Wasim Khan's face was covered with a mask, but the venom in his voice was unmistakable. He was delivering a threatening message straight to the camera, claiming that he would wipe India off the map. A few seconds later, the video cut abruptly—as if he had never existed at all.
Aarav immediately copied the entire data.
He then moved to another section and uploaded a photograph of Harry. The system began its analysis, lines of code flashing rapidly across the screen.
Match Found: 85%
Aarav's eyes narrowed.
Without wasting a second, he copied this data as well, compiled everything into a single file, and sent it to Venkatesh.
Caption:
Dad, I found something dangerous.
After that, he shut down the computer and walked out of the room.
Based on all his past experiences, Aarav had learned one thing clearly—fighting the plot head-on was impossible. But it could be altered, at least slightly.
This time, there was a party going on… but this party belonged to Aarav.
Venkatesh had gone to Kashmir, yet this time, he would not remain unaware of the danger approaching him.
Nearly an hour later, Aarav's phone rang.
The screen displayed: Dad
"Are you okay?"
Venkatesh asked in a worried voice.
"Yeah… all good," Aarav replied calmly.
There was a brief pause before Venkatesh spoke again, hesitating,
"The things you sent… all of it?"
"It's already on your system," Aarav said. "You can verify it from your phone as well."
Venkatesh had already verified everything. What troubled him was not the data itself, but how Aarav knew about his real work and profession—and how he had accessed his system so easily.
Still, this was not the time for questions. Knowing Aarav, it wasn't entirely shocking either.
"Where are all of you right now?" Venkatesh asked.
"At home," Aarav replied. "Everyone's preparing for the party… Wasim Khan is here too."
Wasim and Afzal had arrived fifteen minutes earlier and were helping with the preparations.
Peeking through his room's keyhole, Aarav saw them—busy, relaxed, completely unsuspecting.
"Get out of there immediately," Venkatesh ordered.
"I'm sending a rescue team."
"That'll alert both of them," Aarav said quietly.
"Both?"
Venkatesh sounded confused.
"Wasim Khan… and his nephew Afzal," Aarav replied.
"He's pretending to be in love with Kirti."
That only fueled Venkatesh's anger—toward his enemies, and toward himself.
He had been so distant from his family that he never realized when his enemies had reached his own home.
"I have a plan," Aarav said softly.
"No," Venkatesh snapped.
"No plan. You're leaving right now. End of discussion."
"Just listen once—"
"Aarav," Venkatesh cut him off,
"I know you probably have a way to catch them, but that's not your job.
I can't put you or anyone else in danger.
Get your mother and Kirti out of there somehow. I'm sending a team—they'll contact you and handle the rest."
Aarav let out a slow sigh.
"Okay, Dad… but can I use your gun?"
"No."
Venkatesh rejected it instantly, then paused before adding,
"Keep it with you for safety. But don't use it unless it's absolutely necessary."
"Okay."
"Okay."
The call ended.
Aarav glanced at the gun lying on the bed, along with two magazines.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
He picked up one magazine and loaded it into the gun, slipping the other into his pant pocket. Keeping the safety switch on, he tucked the gun into his waistband and covered it with his shirt.
The game had begun.
Aarav turned on his phone again and opened the live footage of the area around his apartment building.
An Omni van entered the premises.
The moment he saw it, Aarav became alert.
Several men stepped out of the van, their faces covered with black masks. Assault rifles were gripped firmly in their hands. One look was enough to tell him—this was definitely not a rescue team.
Letting out a slow breath, Aarav muttered to himself,
"And this is exactly why we shouldn't interfere too much with the plot. If we do… the plot starts playing with us instead."
Meanwhile, on the other side of the building, one of the terrorists was inside the security office. All the guards there had already been killed—except one. He had been deliberately kept alive so that no one outside would suspect that something was wrong.
The man kept his gun aimed at the terrified guard while monitoring every camera feed in the building.
Back in his room, Aarav stepped outside.
Guests had started arriving one by one.
He greeted some of his school friends when suddenly a car pulled up near the entrance. A few men stepped out and stood just outside the room. Seeing them, Shakshi and Kirti looked confused—but Aarav recognized them instantly.
With a smile, Aarav said,
"Ah, you've come. Please, come in."
Shakshi asked in confusion,
"Who are they?"
"They're my friends," Aarav replied casually.
Shakshi frowned slightly.
"But don't they look much older than you?"
Letting out a light laugh, Aarav said,
"Yes. They're students from my music class—my juniors."
Shakshi looked surprised.
"Really?"
Aarav nodded and invited all of them inside.
Among them was a man named Pasha. With his broad chest and tall build, he looked far more like a soldier than a musician.
Pasha glanced at his teammates and muttered under his breath,
"So this is Venky's kid… and it's him, of all people."
Hearing that, a few of the others almost laughed—but quickly restrained themselves.
After all, this was no laughing matter.
Aarav led all of them toward a corner.
Pasha noticed that Harry and Afzal were not there. Looking at Aarav, he asked,
"Where are those two?"
"They've gone to meet their associates," Aarav replied.
As he said that, he took out his phone. Live footage of the entire building was playing on the screen. In one of the camera feeds, Afzal and Wasim could be seen receiving one pistol each from an unknown man.
Aarav said calmly,
"There are nearly ten terrorists in this building, including Wasim and Afzal. Taking them straight from the front won't be easy."
Pasha replied confidently,
"These people won't be able to do anything."
Then he turned toward his teammates and gave instructions,
"Two men will stay close to Kirti and ma'am for protection. The rest will provide cover and keep an eye on everyone."
Aarav said,
"I have a better plan than this."
But Pasha ignored him. Looking at his team, he said firmly,
"Ready."
Everyone nodded.
---
On the other side of the room, Shakshi was arranging the table while Kirti helped her. Glancing toward Aarav and those men, Kirti whispered,
"Do you really think they're Aarav's friends?"
Shakshi replied hesitantly,
"They don't look like it… but maybe they really are musicians."
Kirti frowned and said,
"That moustached guy—does he look like a musician to you?"
Then she added in a low voice,
"To me, they don't look like musicians at all. They look like gangsters."
Shakshi immediately hushed her,
"Don't say things like that,"
and gestured for her to stay quiet.
Shakshi and Kirti were still talking when Shakshi's phone suddenly started ringing.
She glanced at the screen—it was Venkatesh.
The phone rang for a few seconds, then disconnected.
Almost immediately, Kirti's phone rang. She checked the screen.
It was Venkatesh again.
Kirti answered,
"Hello, Dad."
A tense voice came from the other side,
"Kirti, is your mom there?"
Without saying anything, Kirti handed the phone to Shakshi.
"He wants to talk to you."
Shakshi brought the phone to her ear.
"Yes, tell me."
Venkatesh's voice came, low and serious,
"Listen carefully. All of your lives are in danger."
Shakshi sighed in irritation.
"Please, Venky, not now. This isn't the right time for your stupid pranks."
"This is not a prank. I'm serious," Venkatesh said.
"Do you remember the promise I took from you just before our wedding?"
That single sentence pulled Shakshi back in time.
---
Years ago.
Shakshi and Venkatesh sat across from each other, a candlelight dinner between them.
"I want to take a promise from you before we get married," Venkatesh had said.
"Will you fulfill it?"
"What kind of promise?" Shakshi asked.
"There will come a day when I'll say that your lives are in danger."
She looked at him curiously.
"What kind of danger?"
"Deadly danger."
Shakshi touched his forehead and laughed.
"Rahul, what nonsense are you talking about? Who's in danger?"
"Just promise me," he said firmly.
"No matter when I say it—today, tomorrow, ten years, twenty years, even fifty years from now—if I ever say that your lives are in danger, you will follow my instructions without thinking twice. I may not be there with you, but you must protect yourself and our family."
Shakshi stared at him for a moment… and then burst into laughter.
"What movie did you watch before coming here? Promises like this?"
Venkatesh extended his hand.
"If you don't promise me this, I won't marry you."
Her laughter faded.
Looking into his eyes, Shakshi placed her hand on his and said softly,
"I promise. I'll stand by you for my entire life. And if a day comes when our lives are in danger, I'll take the bullet meant for you. I'll die if I have to—but I won't let anything happen to our family."
Venkatesh shook his head.
"I want only one promise. Whenever I say your lives are in danger, you will follow my instructions—no matter if they seem right or wrong."
---
The memory made Shakshi's chest feel heavy.
They had promised to live and die together…
and now they were drifting apart in the middle of life.
"Why are you reminding me of this now?" Shakshi asked quietly.
"I asked for only one promise," Venkatesh said.
"And today, you have to fulfill it."
He took a deep breath.
"Look in front of you."
Shakshi looked up.
Ghosh was standing right in front of her.
"The people standing with Aarav are Special Forces," Venkatesh continued.
"They'll get you out safely."
Just then, Ghosh and Aarav stepped closer.
Ghosh extended his hand, signaling for the phone.
Shakshi still held the phone to her ear when Venkatesh said,
"Give the phone to him."
She handed it over.
"Don't worry," Ghosh said calmly.
"No one will be harmed."
Aarav leaned closer, trying to listen to the call.
From the phone came Venkatesh's voice,
"Get them out by any means necessary. And if possible—try to capture Wasim alive."
Aarav immediately blurted out,
"Dad, I have a plan."
Venkatesh's voice snapped back,
"Make a bulb out of your plan and stick it in your ear."
Ghosh let out a brief chuckle.
Aarav puffed his cheeks in frustration.
"Why does no one ever take me seriously?"
Then Venkatesh spoke in a firm, deadly calm tone,
"I know exactly what your plan is. And in that plan, my family is directly in danger—which is unacceptable.
Ghosh, start the mission."
"Copy," Ghosh replied.
He handed the phone back to Shakshi.
As she raised it to her ear, Venkatesh's final instruction came through:
"Leave with them. Now."