The cottage was eerily quiet as the group gathered in the living room. Mayank had spread out all the evidence on the coffee table: photographs, maps, and cryptic notes found in the warehouse. The tension was palpable.
“Let’s start from the beginning,” Mayank said, tapping the map with a pen. “This guy, Raghav, has been after Ishan for months. The question is… why?”
Shubman glanced at Ishan, who sat beside him, visibly anxious. “I think it’s time you told us everything, Ishan. Whatever you’re hiding, we need to know.”
Ishan hesitated, his fingers gripping the edge of his sweatshirt. He looked at Shubman, his eyes pleading. “It’s not that simple.”
“You can trust us,” Shubman said softly. “You can trust me”
Ishan took a shaky breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to drag anyone into this. I thought I could handle it alone.”
“Clearly, you can’t,” Abhi interjected, earning a glare from Shubman.
“It’s okay,” Ishan said, his voice steadier now. “You deserve to know.”
“I was adopted,” Ishan began, his gaze fixed on the floor. “I never knew my biological parents, but I always felt… different. My adoptive family loved me, but they never talked about where I came from.”
Hardik leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. “And Raghav? How does he fit into this?”
“A few months ago, I got a letter,” Ishan continued. “It was from someone claiming to know my real parents. They said my birth wasn’t an accident it was part of something bigger.”
“Something bigger?” Rohit asked, frowning. “What does that mean?”
Ishan hesitated, his hands trembling. Shubman placed a reassuring hand over his. “Take your time,” he said gently.
“They were involved in… something dangerous,” Ishan admitted. “The letter didn’t go into detail, but it said my parents had enemies—people who wouldn’t stop until they got what they wanted.”
“And you think Raghav is one of them?” Mayank asked.
Ishan nodded. “After I got the letter, strange things started happening. I’d see the same car following me. My apartment was broken into, but nothing was stolen. And then… I got a second letter.”
He pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Shubman. The group leaned in as Shubman read aloud:
*“You’ve inherited their sins. Run all you want, but you can’t escape your fate. You’re next.”*
A heavy silence fell over the room.
“This is insane,” Abhi said, running a hand through his hair. “What kind of people send cryptic threats like this?”
“The kind who don’t mess around,” Virat replied grimly. “Ishan, do you have any idea what your parents were involved in?”
Ishan shook his head. “No. I’ve tried to find out, but there’s nothing. It’s like they never existed.”
Shubman frowned, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. “Whoever they are, they think you’re important. That’s why they’re after you.”
“But why now?” Hardik asked. “Why wait all these years?”
“Maybe they needed time to track him down,” Mayank suggested. “Or maybe something changed recently.”
Ishan looked at Shubman, his voice trembling. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I didn’t mean to put you in danger.”
“You didn’t,” Shubman said firmly. “This isn’t your fault, Ishan. We’ll figure this out together.”
Just as the group began piecing together the puzzle, a loud noise shattered the silence. The sound of shattering glass came from the kitchen, followed by hurried footsteps.
“Get down!” Shubman yelled, pulling Ishan to the floor.
Hardik and Abhi grabbed whatever they could find—an umbrella and a chair—and positioned themselves by the door. Virat peeked out the window, his face pale. “We’ve got company,” he said.
“How many?” Mayank asked, his laptop clutched protectively.
“Three, maybe four,” Virat replied. “And they’re armed.”
“Armed?” Ishan whispered, his voice shaking. “What do we do?”
Shubman’s mind raced. “Abhi, Hardik, cover the front door. Virat, barricade the back. Mayank, stay with Ishan.”
“What about you?” Ishan asked, panic evident in his eyes.
“I’ll handle them,” Shubman said, his voice steady.
“No!” Ishan grabbed his arm, his grip surprisingly strong. “You can’t go out there alone.”
“I’ll be fine,” Shubman said, his gaze softening. “I promised to keep you safe, remember?”
Before Ishan could protest, Shubman pressed a kiss to his forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. “Stay here. Trust me.”
Shubman moved swiftly, his training and instincts kicking in. The intruders had entered through the back, their faces obscured by masks. Shubman managed to disarm one with a quick strike, but the others weren’t as easy to take down.
Hardik joined him, wielding the umbrella like a weapon. “Didn’t think I’d be using this for self-defense,” he muttered, swinging it at an attacker.
“Focus, Hardik,” Shubman growled, dodging a punch.
Meanwhile, Ishan clutched Mayank’s arm, his heart pounding as he listened to the chaos outside. “I can’t just sit here,” he said, his voice breaking.
“You have to,” Mayank replied, his tone firm. “Shubman’s doing this for you.”
“But what if he—” Ishan’s voice faltered, tears welling in his eyes.
“He won’t,” Mayank said. “Because he’s fighting for you.”
When the fight finally ended, the group reconvened in the living room. Shubman had a cut above his eye, and Hardik nursed a bruised arm, but they were otherwise unharmed.
“They were scouts,” Shubman said, his expression grim. “Testing us. They’ll be back.”
“What do we do now?” Rohit asked, his usual humor gone.
Shubman looked at Ishan, his determination unwavering. “We stop running. We take the fight to them.”
“But how?” Ishan asked, his voice small.
Shubman reached for his hand, his touch grounding. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”
As the group began planning their next move, Ishan couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope. For the first time in weeks, he wasn’t alone.
And as long as Shubman was by his side, he knew he never would be.
.
.
.
.
~To be continued
