The moment Kamla looked at Viraj's phone screen—
Everything inside him collapsed.
His confidence shattered.
Sweat began pouring down his forehead like water, his face turning pale within seconds. Because on that screen… it wasn't just any call.
It was his father.
The call was live.
Without wasting a second, Kamla snatched the phone from Viraj's hand and hurriedly brought it to his ear.
"Yes, Dad…!"
His voice—once filled with arrogance—was now trembling.
As the conversation continued, Kamla's condition worsened. His throat went dry, his breathing uneven, sweat dripping down his face as if he had just stepped out of a storm.
"Y-yes, Dad… understood… okay, Dad… okay…"
His words came out broken.
Forced.
And then—
The call ended.
Kamla immediately handed the phone back to Viraj, but now… something had changed.
The man who walked in like a king—
Now stood like someone who had just been reminded of his limits.
His eyes burned with anger as he stared at Indrajeet Joshi.
The entire hall stood frozen, stunned by what they had just witnessed.
Om, too, watched everything carefully, his curiosity growing. He had already sensed it the moment he saw him—
This old man… wasn't ordinary.
There was power in him.
Real power.
And right now—
Indrajeet stood there, smiling.
Calm.
Composed.
His wrinkled face carrying a quiet authority that seemed to pierce through Kamla's pride.
Kamla clenched his fists.
That smile…
It irritated him.
Burned him.
But he swallowed his rage and suddenly turned to his men.
"Let's go! Party's over!"
Then, looking back at Indrajeet, his voice dropped into a cold warning,
"Don't mistake my leaving for weakness. When a lion takes two steps back… it's only to strike harder at its prey."
A brief silence followed.
Then—
Indrajeet turned slightly toward Om, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"Mr. Om… I believe you'd like to respond to that."
Om smirked.
His eyes met Kamla's.
And then he spoke—
"Listen, you jackal hiding in a lion's skin… a real lion doesn't say it's a lion—he proves it with his roar."
A ripple passed through the hall.
Kamla let out a cold laugh, his eyes filled with rage.
"They say… when time isn't on your side, even dogs start pretending to be lions," he said mockingly. "No problem… when I strike next time… there won't be even a piece of flesh left behind."
He turned sharply.
"Let's move!"
And just like that—
Kamla Thakur walked out.
But this time…
Not as a king.
As a man who had just been forced to step back.
The moment he left, the tension in the hall burst into whispers. People began talking among themselves, trying to process everything that had just happened.
But before it could escalate—
Mr. Chauhan raised his voice.
"Dear guests… I'm truly sorry, but tonight's party ends here. Please return to your homes. Thank you for taking the time to come… and I hope you witnessed… quite an unforgettable drama tonight."
One by one, people began leaving.
The grand party dissolved into silence.
As the crowd thinned, Indrajeet turned toward Om with a knowing smile.
"Seems like you have a habit of embracing trouble, Mr. Om."
Om smiled back, playing innocent.
"I didn't quite understand, Mr. Joshi. What do you mean?"
Indrajeet chuckled softly.
"Well… you've barely recovered from the Singhania and Bali incident… and now you've invited another problem into your life—Kamla."
Om tilted his head slightly, his expression changing just enough to reveal confidence beneath the calm.
"You're right, Mr. Joshi," he said. "But I know how to handle my problems. You didn't need to step in… I could've handled that fool myself."
"Excuse me?" a sharp voice cut in.
Sanaya stepped forward, her eyes blazing.
"Who do you think you are? Some kind of hero?" she snapped. "You should be thanking my grandfather. If he hadn't stepped in, that mountain would've crushed you by now! I told you, Grandpa, not to interfere—but no, you had to play savior!"
Her anger was raw.
Unfiltered.
But before Indrajeet could respond—
Mr. Chauhan rushed toward Om, grabbing his hand, his eyes filled with gratitude.
"Om, son… thank you. What you did today… I can never repay this favor. You saved me… and my daughter."
Om glanced at Seema.
She stood there, silent… tears still lingering in her eyes.
For a moment—
Everything softened.
A gentle smile appeared on Om's face.
"As a friend… it was my duty, Uncle," he said humbly. "You don't need to thank me."
But Sanaya cut in again, her tone sharp with arrogance,
"Seriously, Mr. Chauhan? You think this ordinary boy saved you? If you want to thank someone, thank my grandfather. If he hadn't arrived on time… all of you—including your so-called 'hero'—would've been dead by now."
Indrajeet sighed lightly.
"I apologize, Mr. Om," he said with a polite smile. "My granddaughter is a bit… impulsive. Please don't take her words to heart."
Om simply smiled.
Nodded.
And without another word, he folded his hands slightly in respect and began walking away.
Behind him—
Sanaya scoffed, turning to her grandfather.
"See that, Grandpa? You saved him, and look at his attitude—walking away like that. So rude."
But this time—
Indrajeet's expression changed.
His voice turned sharp.
"Enough, foolish girl."
Sanaya froze.
"You don't understand anything," he continued, his gaze fixed on Om's departing figure. "I didn't save him from Kamla…"
A pause.
Heavy.
"If we had been even a little late… this place would've turned into a battlefield."
His voice dropped.
Cold.
"I didn't save Om… I saved Kamla from him."
Those words—
Hit like a shockwave.
Everyone turned.
Their eyes instinctively following Om's figure as he walked out of the hall.
Fear.
A new kind of fear.
"What do you mean…?" Sanaya asked, her voice no longer confident.
Indrajeet's face grew serious.
"The man who just walked out of this party… is the same one who reduced Bali—one of the most dangerous men in this country—to nothing more than a broken animal."
The silence deepened.
"Yes… the one who killed Bali might be someone mysterious… but after what Om did to him… Bali wouldn't have lived long anyway. That night… this boy destroyed Bali and his men like they were nothing."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"So tell me… do you really think someone who crushed Bali, Singhania, Bhadra, and even Singhania's son… would fear a petty thug like Kamla?"
No one spoke.
No one could.
"Remember this," Indrajeet said quietly, "I didn't save Om…"
His gaze lingered at the exit.
"I saved Kamla from Om."
And in that moment—
Everyone in that hall looked toward the door where Om had disappeared…
Not with curiosity anymore—
But with awe.
And fear.
Meanwhile—
Supriya and Anshika exchanged glances, unable to hide their smiles.
But Seema…
She stood still.
Her eyes fixed ahead.
Her heart steadying.
And deep within, she made a silent decision—
I won't let Om slip away from me…
Not anymore.