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My lovely readers, here's an extra chapter just for you! Get ready, because even more thrilling and mysterious chapters are on the way. The Villians are here, and things are about to get darker and more intense.

Remember, you'll unlock the new chapters when you vote—so don't miss out!

SOMEWHERE IN DELHI

The narrow lanes of Old Delhi are as quiet as a whisper. Cracked walls lean over the streets, hiding secrets in the shadows. Faint smells of smoke, rust, and old dreams hang in the air. Power lines dangle like snakes, and the silence feels unnerving.

A man moves through the maze, his footsteps echo softly on the broken stone. He stops at a worn-out building, the paint peeling off like forgotten memories. Without hesitation, he climbs the stairs—each step creaks under his weight.

He reaches the third floor. For a moment, he pauses. His hand hovers in the air before knocking three-four times on a wooden door. Click.

The door opens a little. A pair of eyes peek out, scanning the corridor like a hunted animal checking for danger. The man steps aside, and the visitor enters quickly.

Inside, the room is dim. A single yellow bulb buzzes overhead. Damp walls hold years of dust and rot. The air is thick, heavy with tension.

Two men are already inside. One sits in an old chair, silent and still like a statue. The other stands by the window, smoke curling around his face, hiding his expression.

The newcomer lowers his eyes and greets quietly, "Namaste Thakur ji."

The man on the chair gives a small nod.

This visitor is Arun Thakur.

Arun sits down, wiping sweat from his forehead. His voice trembles as he speaks.

"Vikram came to my house. Thakur ji... the police are after you. I can't do this anymore. I have a family... I need to protect them."

Devraj doesn't speak. His eyes, cold and unreadable, stay locked on Arun.

But it isn't Devraj who responds.

Behind the rising smoke, Abhay Veer Thakur steps away from the window. His face twists in fury.

Abhay kicks the chair with full force.

It topples instantly. Arun crashes to the ground with a dull thud.

He lies frozen. His limbs stiff. His hands tremble against the dirty floor. His lips move silently, but no words come out—only fear.

"What did you just say, haaraamkhor?" Abhay growls, his voice like fire ready to burn.

He takes slow, menacing steps toward Arun, his eyes blazing.

"You won't help us now? You coward. When you were rotting in debt, who fed you? Who gave you money when your house was falling apart? It was us!"

He sneers, face twisted in rage.

"You begged at our feet, cried like a dog, kissed our shoes for help. And now, you stand here and say 'I have a family to protect'?!"

Abhay's voice drops, cold and deadly.

"I'll rip your family apart, one by one. I'll make you watch while I burn them alive. Your wife. Your children. Your whole bloodline—reduced to ash."

He leans in closer, so close Arun can feel the heat of his breath.

"Then I'll slit your throat, slowly... so you know what it feels like to lose everything. You dare say no? To us?"