The boathouse was a frozen tomb, but the fire in Reyansh's eyes could have melted the very lake outside. He stood tall despite the blood seeping through his makeshift bandages, his silhouette jagged against the moonlight. He wasn't just a billionaire anymore; he was a soldier returning to a war he hadn't known he was fighting.
Sia watched him, her breath hitching. The realization that her father's life hung by a thread—and that the man holding the thread was Reyansh's literal shadow—was almost too much to bear.
"We can't just walk through the front door," Sia whispered, her voice trembling but determined. "Gayatri will have the entire security detail on high alert after the explosion."
"The security detail is compromised," Reyansh said, his voice a low, lethal vibration. "Half of them likely report to Aryan now. We use the servant tunnels—the ones that lead directly into the master wing's dressing room. My mother thinks I've forgotten them. She's wrong."
He turned to her, his gaze sweeping over her torn saree and bruised skin. The Unwanted Romance flared as he stepped into her personal space, his hand reaching out to tilt her chin up. His touch was rough, possessive, and yet there was a desperate edge to it.
"If anything goes wrong," he muttered, his thumb grazing her lower lip, "you run. You don't look back for me. You find the police, you give them the chip, and you save your father."
"And leave you with them?" Sia challenged, her eyes burning. "After everything, you think I'm that cowardly?"
Reyansh didn't answer with words. He leaned down, his forehead pressing against hers for a fleeting second—a silent, heavy promise of protection—before he pulled her into the freezing rain.
The tunnels were narrow, damp, and smelled of earth and old stone. They moved like shadows, Reyansh leading the way with a silenced pistol, Sia close behind him, clutching the iron fire poker like a lifeline.
They emerged behind a false wardrobe in the North corridor, just a few doors down from Gayatri's private quarters. The humming had started again. It wasn't coming from the intercom this time. It was coming from inside the room—a soft, haunting melody that felt like a funeral march.
Reyansh signaled for Sia to stay back, but she shook her head. They were in this together now.
He kicked the door open.
Gayatri Thorne was sitting by the window, staring out at the smoldering ruins of the North Wing. She didn't look surprised. She didn't even turn around. In the dim light of the fireplace, the gold locket around her neck gleamed like a drop of sun.
"I expected the fire to take a little longer to burn out," Gayatri said, her voice eerily calm. "You always were a fast learner, Reyansh. Just like your father."
"Where is he, Mother?" Reyansh roared, the word 'Mother' sounding like a curse. "Where is the brother you told me died at birth? The one you turned into a monster while I lived in the light?"
Gayatri turned then, her face a mask of regal indifference. "Aryan was... a necessity. Every empire needs a sword in the dark. Your father was too soft, Reyansh. He was going to give half the shares to Deepak Mathur. I couldn't let him destroy what I built. So, I let Aryan handle it."
Sia gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "You let your own son kill his father?"
"I let the stronger son protect the legacy," Gayatri corrected, her eyes locking onto Sia with pure venom. "And now, he's at the hospital, finishing the job. Unless, of course, you've brought me what I want."
Reyansh moved with the speed of a strike, his hand locking around Gayatri's throat before she could even gasp. He slammed her back into the velvet chair, his pistol pressed against her temple. The Unwanted Romance tension in the room was suffocating—Sia watched as the man she was beginning to feel for became the monster his mother had created.
"The locket," Reyansh hissed, his eyes devoid of any mercy. "Give me the locket, or I'll end this legacy right here, right now."
Gayatri laughed—a dry, rattling sound. "You won't kill me. You're too much like your father. You have a conscience, Reyansh. It's your greatest flaw."
"My father is dead," Reyansh whispered into her ear. "And the man standing in front of you doesn't have a conscience. He has a woman to save and a debt of blood to pay."
He didn't wait for her to hand it over. He reached down and ripped the gold chain from her neck, the metal snapping with a sharp crack. Gayatri hissed, her hand reaching for a hidden alarm on the underside of her chair, but Sia was faster.
Sia swung the fire poker, smashing the control panel before Gayatri could touch it.
"You're finished, Gayatri," Sia said, her voice cold and steady. "The police are already on their way to the hospital. I sent the encrypted files to a private server before we left the boathouse. If anything happens to us, or my father, the whole world sees the footage of the 'Throne Matriarch' directing a murder."
It was a lie—a bluff—but in the chaos of the night, Gayatri's eyes flickered with the first sign of genuine fear.
Reyansh grabbed the locket, his fingers finding the hidden catch. It clicked open, revealing a tiny, silver-plated key—the second encryption key for the microchip.
"We're leaving," Reyansh commanded, grabbing Sia's hand. He looked back at his mother one last time. "Don't follow us. If I see your shadow again, I won't use a gun. I'll let Aryan find you. And we both know he doesn't have my 'flaw'."
They sprinted out of the room, leaving Gayatri staring into the dying embers of the fire.
As they reached the garage, Reyansh threw Sia into his armored SUV, his movements frantic. He climbed into the driver's seat, the engine roaring to life like a beast.
"The hospital is twenty minutes away," Reyansh said, his jaw set. "Aryan is fast, but I'm faster."
"Reyansh, look!" Sia pointed at the dashboard screen.
The microchip, which Reyansh had plugged into the car's system, had finally finished decrypting. The video footage from ten years ago played again, but this time, the shadow moved.
The face was revealed.
It wasn't Aryan. It wasn't Gayatri.
It was a man with a scarred face, standing behind Aryan, whispering into his ear. The man Sia's father had called his best friend. The man everyone thought had died in the same fire.
Vikram Thorne Sr.
The car swerved as Reyansh's grip on the wheel faltered. "My father... he's alive?"
Suddenly, a black sedan rammed into the side of the SUV, spinning them toward the edge of the cliff road.
The window of the sedan rolled down. Aryan was driving, but in the passenger seat sat a man with a face half-ruined by burns, holding a detonator.
"Welcome back to the family, Reyansh," the man rasped over the wind.
00:05... 00:04... The SUV's brakes had been cut. They were heading straight for the gorge.
Author's Note
The ultimate betrayal! 🥀🎭 Vikram Thorne Sr. isn't a ghost—he's the puppet master! The Unwanted Romance has hit a literal cliffhanger as Reyansh realizes his whole life has been a lie orchestrated by the man he mourned. 🩸🏰
Is Sia's father just bait to lure them to their deaths? And can Reyansh save Sia from a fall that even he might not survive this time? 🧗♂️🔥
To my 5.1k+ readers—I see those views climbing! 📈
📚 Add to your Library to see if they survive the plunge!
💎 Drop your Power Stones—Let's hit 15 today to unlock the secret of the "Burned Man"!
💬 Comment below—Did you see the Father twist coming? 🧐
The next chapter drops tomorrow... and the descent into madness continues! 🌟