ISHQ-E-MOHABBAT

49. the revenge

I typed rapidly on my laptop, my fingers flying across the keyboard as I logged into the security system of the building where the men had been spotted. I had a plan, and it was going to be good.

As I worked, my thoughts kept drifting to Jaana and how close I had come to losing her. I couldn't let that happen again. Those men would pay for what they had done.

Suddenly, my laptop beeped, indicating successful access to the security system, thanks to my Jaana. I smiled, feeling a sense of satisfaction.

"Time to get to work," I said aloud, my eyes scanning the screens in front of me.

I started tracking down the men who tried to take away everything from me. My eyes narrowed as I zoomed in on the faces. Virendra. That slimy, arrogant... I couldn't even bear to think his name.

"How dare he," I muttered, my fingers flying over the keyboard as I dug deeper into the footage. "He thinks he's my rival? Ha! He's nothing but a pathetic wannabe."

I watched as Virendra's men planted the bomb, their faces twisted with cruel intent. My heart burned with rage, my mind racing with ways to make them pay.

"I'll show him what it means to cross Abhimaan Shekhawat," I whispered, my eyes blazing with determination. "He will regret the day he ever thought he could take me down."

Abhimaan's fingers drummed against the armrest as he sat in his plush leather chair, a sly grin spreading across his face.

"The king has spoken," he whispered to himself, his eyes gleaming with a sinister intensity.

He swirled the whiskey in his glass, the amber liquid glowing in the dim light. With a satisfied smile, he took a sip, feeling the smooth burn down his throat.

As he gazed out the window at the city lights, he felt omnipotent. He was the master of his domain, the king of his twisted game.

And Virendra and his men were mere pawns to be crushed beneath his feet.

"Their downfall will be swift and merciless," he murmured. "And I will be the one to bring it upon them."

I wrapped the dark blue saree around me, the soft fabric hugging my curves. I smiled at my reflection in the mirror. Sometimes, it does feel good to get ready and feel like a million bucks.

I made my way to the breakfast table, but the maid's somber face greeted me.

"Where's Maa and Papa?" I asked, frowning.

"They left in the middle of the night, ma'am," she replied. "Actually uncle is unwell, and they had to rush to his side."

A pang of worry hit me. I decided to call them later.

I sat down, my appetite gone. Pouring myself a cup of tea, I reached for the TV remote and clicked the buttons. The news channel blared to life.

"Breaking news," the anchor announced gravely. "Virendra and his men found dead in brutal condition."

My teacup paused mid-air. What? Virendra? The one whose men planted the bomb yesterday?

The screen cut to a montage of Virendra's buildings and his smug face. "Sources reveal Virendra's men were involved in an attack on Mrs. Mayura Shekhawat, the Queen of Rajasthan."

My mind raced as the anchor continued, "Virendra and his men have been found dead, their bodies brutalized beyond recognition, in a burning car. According to forensic reports, they suffered immense torture before death."

My heart stopped. Abhimaan, what have you done?

I sat frozen as the anchor’s words echoed in my mind.

And yet, a part of me knew... He did it for me, for his Jaana.

I stepped into the darkness, the old wooden stairs creaking beneath my feet. The air was musty, thick with decay. I reached the bottom and flipped the switch, the lone light flickering to life.

Before me, Virendra and his men were tied to a metal pole, their wrists and ankles bound by thick chains. They struggled, their eyes wide with terror.

"You should have thought twice before crossing me," I hissed, my voice low and menacing.

Virendra's eyes pleaded. "Abhimaan, please..."

I smiled coldly. "Virendra. But not this time."

I pulled out a knife, its blade glinting in the dim light. My men stood behind me, watching in horror as I took my time, cutting their fingers one by one. Their screams filled the room, but I wasn’t satisfied. Not yet.

I reached for a hammer wrapped in needles. They begged for death, but I wasn’t cruel enough to grant it so soon. I crushed their bones, the sound echoing off the walls.

Finally, I took their eyes—one by one—just as they had planned to burn Jaana. Now they knew what true suffering felt like.

Later, as I slipped back into the palace, the morning light cast a golden glow on the marble floors. I felt a sense of satisfaction. The blood had washed off, but the memory of their agony stayed.

As I walked towards Jaana, her dark blue saree billowed behind her. My heart skipped a beat. She looked beautiful, a radiant contrast to the chaos around us.

Without thinking, I rushed toward her, our eyes locking. For a moment, the world fell away. It was just us.

But then, a small child—ran to her, clinging to her leg. My irritation flared. Can’t I have Jaana to myself for one day?

"What's this baby Dino doing here again?" I grumbled inwardly, glaring at the child.

But Jaana, oblivious, smiled down at the boy. "How are you, my little champ?" she cooed, her voice dripping with affection.

I sighed, my heart softening as I watched them.