The command from Vinod hung in the air, but Bhoomi resisted, her frail body trembling with a stubborn love. "No... I will not go. I have to wait for my Yuvi. He will come home."
Exasperated and enraged by this defiance, Susheela stepped forward, her hand lashing out to shove the unstable woman. "You will go where you're told, you mad—"
But before Bhoomi could stumble, a figure moved with impossible speed. A strong, steadying arm wrapped around her shoulders, halting her fall. The air in the room grew cold and heavy.
Yuvaan was there.
He had materialized from the shadows of the hallway, his presence instantly sucking the oxygen from the room. He gently guided his mother to a nearby chair, his movements deceptively calm.
"Yuvi... beta, are you alright?" Bhoomi whispered, her hands immediately coming up to caress his face, her worries for herself forgotten.
A soft, almost imperceptible smile touched Yuvaan's lips as he looked at her. "What can happen to me, Mom?" he said, his voice low and soothing just for her. "You know only the heroes fall in danger. But the villains? We bring the danger. And I'm the villain, remember?" He leaned closer, wiping a tear from her cheek. "But I can be your hero. Always."
With a tenderness that contrasted starkly with the venom in the room, he helped her up. "Come, let's get you to bed. You need to rest." He led her away, up the grand staircase, leaving a stunned silence in his wake.
Downstairs, Susheela recovered first, sniffing in disdain. "Good riddance. That insane woman and her cursed son will be the downfall of this family."
The words had barely left her mouth when a chill descended. Yuvaan stood at the top of the stairs, having returned with silent, predatory grace. He strode down, each step echoing with a palpable, dark energy—a true villain's aura radiating from him.
He didn't even look at the others as he casually settled into the largest sofa, crossing his legs as if he owned the very air they breathed.
"How dare you," he said, his voice a quiet, deadly whisper that carried through the hall.
Aakash puffed out his chest. "Yuvaan, you are crossing a line—"
"Shhhh," Yuvaan interrupted, raising a single finger to his lips without even glancing at his cousin. The sound was a dismissive hiss. "I'm not talking to you." He finally turned his head, his dark eyes locking onto Aakash with chilling intensity. "Only speak when spoken to. Otherwise... shhh."
Vinod, his face purple with fury, stepped forward. "Yuvaan! This is totally out of your character! You do not respect the fact that we are your elders!"
Yuvaan slowly began to clap, the sound sharp and mocking. "Wow. What a speech. And respect?" He let out a short, humorless laugh. "Did you just say that word? I mean, come on, man. Practice what you speak. When you can't respect your elder brother's wife, your own bhabhi, then how can you stand there and preach to me about respect?"
"YUVAAN!" Vinod roared, his body trembling.
Yuvaan's smile was a cold, sharp thing. "Don't let your BP shoot up, oldie," he said, his voice dropping to a sinister, conversational tone. He then made a casual, yet horrifying gesture—a finger drawn slowly across his own throat. "Otherwise..."
The threat hung in the air, unspoken but understood. He wasn't just a disrespectful nephew; he was a force of nature they had deeply underestimated. The cursed boy was gone, replaced by the Warlock King, and he had just declared his kingdom.
Vinod's face, already purple with rage, turned a dangerous shade of crimson. He took a menacing step forward, his finger shaking as he pointed it at Yuvaan.
"Are you threatening me?" he snarled. "Are you threatening to kill me, just like your inauspiciousness killed my brother? Your own father!"
A deadly calm settled over Yuvaan's features. He leaned back into the plush sofa, the picture of nonchalant arrogance.
"Oh?" he said, his voice dripping with mock surprise. "I thought you killed him for the property." He paused, letting the gasps from his aunt and cousins hang in the air. "Oh, I'm just mistaken. My bad." His eyes, dark and glinting, swept over them. "But if I'm such an 'inauspicious,' 'cursed' young, handsome, dashing man… why are you all still in this house? Aren't you afraid I might bring doom upon you?" He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a theatrical whisper. "Aren't you afraid you might not wake up… ever?"
Riddhi, emboldened by her father's fury, found her voice. "Yuvaan! Stop it! Stop saying such terrifying and insulting words to my parents!"
Yuvaan's gaze slid to her, unimpressed. "Then you better tell your precious parents not to cross the line," he said coolly. He then brought his fingers to his lips and let out a soft, mocking whistle. "Otherwise, I might just send them on a direct, express trip to heaven. No stops."
It was Susheela who shrieked next, her composure finally shattered. "Such an ungrateful child! After everything! We have given you a roof over your head, fed you, tolerated you!"
Yuvaan slowly rose to his feet. The movement was fluid and filled with such contained power that the entire family instinctively took a step back.
"Excuse me," he said, his voice now low and razor-sharp, losing all pretense of amusement. "Let's get our facts straight. Don't forget who owns fifty percent of this property, this house, and everything in it." He spread his arms, encompassing the grand, opulent mansion. "It was my father's. And by law, it is mine."
He took a single step towards them, and they recoiled as if he were a venomous snake.
"So, tell me, dear Aunt and Uncle," he continued, his tone lethally soft. "How, exactly, did you give me a roof over my head?"
The question echoed in the stunned silence. For years, they had treated him as a cursed guest, a burden in his own home. Now, Yuvaan had not only defended his mother but had also laid claim to his throne. He was no longer the boy they could bully. He was the master of the house, and he had just served them an eviction notice written in pure, undiluted menace.