The city traffic hummed around them as Angad navigated through the morning rush, Yuvaan leaning casually against the passenger seat, one arm draped over the window. The radio crackled to life with the familiar news jingle—but the headlines made Angad sit straighter.
"…reports coming in from the city central mall… terrorists have taken hostages… several injured… police on high alert…"
Yuvaan's crimson eyes glinted faintly with interest and genuine care but his villainous tone intact. "Well… this is about to get interesting," he said, his tone teasing but his posture calm, unnervingly so.
Angad's grip on the wheel tightened. "Interesting? Brother Yuvaan, this isn't a game.Sister-inlaw Kiara could be there!"
Yuvaan's eyes flicked to him, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Relax, little brother. As long as I'm here not even a fly can harm her… I'll have to make an appearance."
Meanwhile, at the Pratap Singh mansion, Chandrika sat frozen before the television, hands clasped tightly together. The live broadcast showed police barricades, panicked shoppers ducking for cover, and masked men moving with precision through the mall corridors. She whispered fervent prayers under her breath.
"Lord… please protect anyone trapped inside. Keep them safe. Bring them home unharmed," she murmured, her voice shaking.
The rest of the family—Bhoomi, Susheela, Vinod, Aakash, and Riddhi—entered the room, drawn by the sudden commotion. Riddhi's eyes widened as she caught sight of the broadcast.
"Wait… I overheard Yuvaan and Angad talking about going to the mall," she said, panic threading her voice. "They were heading there this morning… they could be inside!"
Bhoomi's hand flew to her mouth, her heart skipping a beat. Susheela gripped her sister's arm tightly, while Vinod and Aakash exchanged tense glances. The fear in the room was palpable, as the family realized their loved ones might be in immediate danger.
Chandrika's hands went to her face, tears threatening to spill. "We have to pray harder… we have to believe they'll come out safely."
Outside, the city roared with sirens, and the morning sun cast long shadows over a situation that was spiraling fast—and dangerously close to the people they loved.
---
In his office at the college, Vikram's eyes were fixed on the news feed, the chaos at the city mall flashing across the screen. Masked men, panicked crowds, and the shrill wails of terrified shoppers—it all felt surreal, like something out of a nightmare.
He snatched up his phone and tried calling Kiara, but the line was unreachable. Anxiety clawed at his chest. Where is she?
Without another second to lose, he dialed Yuvaan. The line connected, and Vikram's relief at hearing the warlock king's voice was tempered by the seriousness in it.
"Fil Vikram," Yuvaan said, voice calm but resolute. "I know about the situation at the mall. Kiara is not with me, but I promise you—no harm will come to her. I will get her out."
Vikram's fists clenched around the phone. "Yuvaan, this isn't just about her—there are dozens of people trapped! You have to—"
"I know what I'm doing," Yuvaan interrupted firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "She's in danger, and I will protect her. Trust me, Father-in-law Vikram. She will come back safe."
The line went dead before Vikram could respond. He stared at the phone, a mixture of frustration and cautious hope tightening his chest.
There was no time to wait. Vikram grabbed his jacket and raced out, every thought focused on reaching the mall as quickly as possible. Every second counted—every second could be the difference between life and death.
The mall was a cacophony of panic—sirens wailing, shouting, and the distant, sharp cracks of gunfire echoing through the vast halls. Kiara and Anya pressed themselves against a pillar behind a clothing rack, hearts hammering in unison.
"We have to stay quiet," Kiara whispered, her fingers clutching Anya's arm. Her eyes darted nervously, scanning the area for movement.
Anya nodded, biting her lip. "I—I hope they don't come this way."
Fate, however, had other plans.
A tall, masked terrorist rounded the corner, rifle poised. His boots clicked against the marble floor, every step sending a jolt of terror through Kiara.
Kiara's hand accidentally nudged a display, sending a small metallic ornament clattering to the ground. The sound echoed like a gunshot in the tense silence.
The terrorist froze. Slowly, his rifle swiveled toward them.
There was no time to hide now. He stalked closer, his gun barrel aimed directly at the two girls. "What do we have here?" he snarled, voice dripping with menace. "Acting smart, huh? Thinking you can hide from me?"
Kiara's breath caught, her pulse racing. She pressed herself flat against the pillar, eyes wide with fear. "W-we weren't—" she stammered.
"Quiet!" the terrorist barked. He stepped closer, raising his rifle, the muzzle glinting under the mall's harsh fluorescent lights.
Anya's hands shook. "Kiara… what do we do?!"
Kiara's mind raced—every option seemed impossible. She could feel the panic rising, clawing at her throat, but deep down, she refused to surrender to fear.