The message remained on the screen long after everyone in the room had read it.
ONE FAMILY MEMBER IS ALREADY GONE. NOW CHOOSE WHO YOU WANT TO SAVE FIRST.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Zyan reached for his phone and began issuing orders with frightening precision. "Lock down every exit. Nobody leaves the mansion without my authorization. I want the north wing, private rooms, garages, underground passages, and perimeter searched again. Check every camera feed from the last six hours and find out exactly when my parents disappeared."
Harry was already making calls. His men scattered through the mansion while the security team activated emergency protocols. The calm, welcoming house Prema had entered only hours earlier suddenly felt like a fortress under siege.
Zyan's sister stood near the staircase, her face pale. "Zyan, Mom was in her private sitting room when I last saw her. Dad went to speak with the security chief. I thought they were together."
"Did you see anyone unfamiliar?" Zyan asked.
She shook her head. "No. Everyone downstairs was someone I recognized."
"That doesn't mean anything anymore," Harry replied. "If there's an insider, they could have had access for months."
Prema watched Zyan carefully. He was frighteningly composed, but she could see the tension in his shoulders and the way his fingers tightened around his phone. This was no longer only about her. The people who had welcomed her into their home were missing, and she knew exactly why.
Because of her.
"I should leave," she said quietly.
Zyan immediately turned toward her. "No."
"You heard the message."
"I heard it."
"They're using me to reach your family. If I go somewhere else—"
"They will follow you," Zyan interrupted. His voice was firm, but not angry. "And that is exactly what they want."
Prema looked at him. "Then what do you want?"
For a moment, the question seemed to hit somewhere deeper than she intended.
"I want my parents alive. I want my sister safe. I want Harry to find whoever did this." His eyes remained fixed on hers. "And I want you alive."
Prema swallowed.
Zyan stepped closer, lowering his voice. "But I am not going to lock you in a room and pretend that makes you safe. You were right before. Your life cannot become a prison because someone decided to target me through you."
Something inside her softened.
"You remembered," she whispered.
"I remember everything you say."
Harry suddenly approached them. "Zyan."
The single word changed the atmosphere.
"What did you find?"
"One of the internal cameras was disabled exactly seven minutes before your sister reported your mother missing. The camera wasn't destroyed. It was switched off through the security system."
Zyan's eyes narrowed. "Who had authorization?"
"That's the problem. Three people had access."
"Names."
Harry gave them to him.
Zyan's expression changed when he heard the first name.
Prema noticed immediately.
"Who is it?"
"Your head of household security," Harry answered.
Zyan stared at him.
Harry nodded. "He's missing too."
A cold feeling moved through Prema's chest.
"He could be the one who took them," she said.
"Or he could have been taken with them," Harry replied.
Zyan turned toward the security monitors. "Show me the footage before the cameras went down."
A technician brought up the recordings.
The mansion appeared peaceful. Staff members moved through the corridors. Security guards changed positions. Zyan's mother entered the private sitting room. His father walked toward the security office.
Then, seven minutes before the cameras went dark, a figure appeared at the end of the corridor.
The image was too distant to identify the face.
But Prema noticed something.
"Stop."
The technician froze the frame.
Everyone looked at her.
"Zoom in."
The image became blurry, but a small detail remained visible.
The figure was carrying something in one hand.
A red scarf.
Prema's heart stopped.
"That belongs to me."
Zyan immediately turned toward her. "Are you sure?"
She nodded. "I lost that scarf months ago."
Harry leaned closer to the monitor. "Where?"
"I don't remember exactly. I thought I dropped it near the dance academy."
Zyan looked at the frozen image.
Someone had deliberately carried Prema's scarf into the mansion.
Someone who wanted them to notice.
"This isn't random," Harry said. "They planted evidence."
"No," Prema replied.
Everyone turned toward her.
She stared at the screen, remembering the past few weeks. The flowers. The messages. The photographs. The kidnapping. The hidden camera. The stranger on the lawn.
"They aren't just watching me," she said slowly. "They're studying me."
Zyan said nothing.
"They know where I go. They know who I'm with. They know what I wear. They know about your family. They knew exactly when your security would be vulnerable tonight." She looked at him. "They've been collecting information about both of us for a long time."
Harry's expression became grim. "Which means this started before Rakesh."
Zyan nodded.
"And probably before the first flowers," Prema added.
A notification appeared on Zyan's phone.
Everyone went silent.
It was a video message.
The sender was unknown.
Zyan opened it.
The screen showed a dark room.
A single chair stood in the center.
His mother was sitting in it.
She was alive.
Her hands were tied behind the chair, but there was no visible injury.
Beside her stood a masked man.
Then the camera moved.
Zyan's father was sitting several feet away.
Prema covered her mouth.
Zyan didn't react immediately.
His face became completely still.
The masked man looked directly into the camera.
"Good evening, Zyan."
Zyan's grip tightened around the phone.
"You wanted to know where your family was."
The man tilted his head.
"Now you know."
"What do you want?"
A quiet laugh came from behind the mask.
"I thought that would be obvious."
The camera shifted toward Zyan's mother.
"She matters to you."
Then toward his father.
"So does he."
The masked man stepped closer to the camera.
"But there is another person who matters considerably more than you would like to admit."
Prema's stomach tightened.
The man raised another photograph.
It was a picture of Prema sleeping in the hostel.
Zyan's eyes turned cold.
"Don't touch her."
The masked man laughed softly.
"There it is."
Harry stepped closer to the screen.
"What do you mean?"
"You've spent your entire life protecting the Malik empire," the stranger said. "You built a world where every problem could be solved with money, influence, or fear. But you made one mistake."
He held up Prema's photograph again.
"You fell in love."
Prema looked at Zyan.
His eyes were still on the screen, but she could see something beneath his controlled expression. Fear.
Not for himself.
For her.
The masked man continued.
"Tomorrow morning, you will receive instructions."
Zyan's voice was low. "If you hurt them—"
"You will listen first."
The video abruptly ended.
Nobody spoke.
Then Zyan turned toward Harry.
"Find them."
"We will."
"Not tomorrow. Not in an hour. Now."
Harry nodded and immediately began directing his team.
Zyan looked at Prema.
She expected anger. She expected him to tell her to stay somewhere hidden, perhaps even demand that she leave the mansion.
Instead, he walked toward her and stopped a few feet away.
"I need you to understand something," he said.
"What?"
"This is exactly what they wanted. They wanted me terrified enough to make a mistake."
Prema looked at him steadily. "Then don't make one."
His eyes softened slightly.
"I don't know if I can promise that."
"You can."
"Prema—"
"You told me you wouldn't control my life." Her voice trembled, but she didn't look away. "So don't start now just because you're afraid."
Zyan stared at her.
For the first time that night, the powerful billionaire looked less like a man who could command an empire and more like someone standing at the edge of losing everything.
"I am afraid," he admitted.
Prema's heart tightened.
"I've never been afraid of losing money," he continued. "I've lost companies, deals, friendships, opportunities. I rebuilt everything. But you…" He stopped, searching for the right words. "You're different."
Prema stepped closer.
"I know."
His gaze dropped briefly to her face before returning to her eyes.
"I don't want you becoming the reason I destroy myself."
"Then don't destroy yourself."
"And if they make me choose?"
Prema's breath caught.
Zyan's phone vibrated again.
This time, there was no video.
Only a photograph.
His mother.
Then another.
His father.
Then a third.
Prema.
All three photographs were placed side by side.
Below them were four words.
ONE WILL NOT SURVIVE.
Zyan stared at the message.
Prema felt his hand close around hers.
Not tightly.
Not possessively.
Almost as if he needed the reassurance that she was still standing beside him.
Harry looked at the screen and whispered, "They've given us a deadline."
Zyan's eyes hardened.
"When?"
Harry read the final line beneath the photographs.
TWELVE HOURS.
The mansion fell silent.
And somewhere beyond its walls, someone was already watching them.
Waiting to see who Zyan Malik would choose.