Estranged lovers

Chapter 42

SIDDHARTH'S POV

Siddharth's car roared as it skidded to a stop in front of the warehouse, the headlights casting sharp shadows that danced on the cracked concrete. The air was thick, heavy with the smell of gasoline and anticipation.

He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white. Every part of him was ready—ready for this final confrontation, ready to do whatever it took.

He stepped out, his gaze immediately drawn to the figure leaning against the front of a sleek, black SUV. Adhvait. The man who knew exactly how to operate in the dark corners of the world, the one who had been at his side through it all.

Adhvait took a long drag from his cigar, the smoke curling into the air lazily, and let out a slow, deliberate exhale. His eyes flicked over to Siddharth, but he didn't move an inch. The same casual arrogance that always seemed to hang around him was still there, but his expression was tinged with something else now.... understanding, perhaps, or even a little concern.

Siddharth would have laughed at his expression if it was any other time.

"Took you long enough," Adhvait said, his voice dry and filled with an edge of amusement. He flicked the cigar to the ground, crushing it beneath his boot before pushing himself off the SUV and walking toward Siddharth.

Siddharth didn't return the jest. His expression was cold, focused. "He's inside," Siddharth said, his voice low, full of intent. "And it's done tonight. No turning back."

Adhvait raised an eyebrow, glancing toward the warehouse. "You really sure about this, man? Because once you do it, there's no coming back from it. You're already walking a razor's edge."

"I'm past the point of care, Adhvait," Siddharth answered, his voice unwavering. "It's not about redemption. It's about ending it once and for all."

Adhvait's gaze shifted to the ground for a moment, considering Siddharth's words carefully.

When he spoke again, there was no trace of humor left in his voice. "I know what it's like to want to burn the world down. But remember... it's not just about him. It's about what comes after. The people he's tied to..... the network, the connections. You can't just kill him and expect it all to disappear. You need to be prepared to deal with them too."

Siddharth's jaw tightened. "I'll deal with it. Tonight, it ends."

Adhvait stepped closer, his tone now more serious. "Fine. I'll help you clean up. I've got eyes on his men. I'll make sure they stay out of your way while you handle the uncle. But once you finish him, it's on you to clean the rest."

Siddharth gave a small nod, his gaze never leaving Adhvait's face. He knew his friend was right, but the only thing that mattered in this moment was that this bastard wouldn't walk out of here alive.

The two of them didn't waste any more words. With a single glance, they understood each other perfectly..... there was no need to elaborate further.

Siddharth moved toward the entrance, pushing the heavy door open. Inside, the smell of stale air and mildew hit him. His eyes adjusted to the dim light, and there he saw him. The uncle, tied to a chair, slumped, but still defiant. The man met his gaze, a sneer creeping onto his lips despite his vulnerable position.

"You think you can fix everything by killing me, boy?" the uncle growled, his voice rough with anger. "You think this will make her love you? You think it'll change anything?"

Siddharth's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "This isn't about her," he said, his voice cold. "This is about you."

The uncle laughed, though there was no humor in it..... just a bitter, hollow sound. "I've seen the way she looks at you, Siddharth. She'll never be the same. She'll always carry the scars. You think you can protect her from that? From me?"