The siren in the distance faded before it reached their street.
It wasn't coming for them.
Sibom stood in the middle of the living room, phone still glowing in his hand, the image of Arjun tied to that chair burned into his mind.
His mother grabbed his arm. "You're not going anywhere."
"I have to."
His father's voice was firm. "Think before you move."
"I am thinking," Sibom replied. "If I stay still, they control everything."
The message on his screen remained open.
*Delete the original file. Remove the post. Or next time, it won't be him tied to a chair.*
A bluff?
Or a promise?
He opened the viral post again.
Views: 103,000.
News pages had started reposting it. Comments were shifting now.
People had zoomed in.
Screenshots of the man behind the office glass were spreading.
Some users were already asking:
*Who is that?*
*Why didn't he react?*
*Is this bigger than it looks?*
Sibom's heart pounded.
The truth was cracking open.
But at what cost?
His phone buzzed again.
A private message from an unknown account.
*Meet alone if you want him safe.*
Attached was a location pin.
An industrial dock near the river.
Twenty minutes away.
He showed his father.
"No," his father said immediately.
"If I don't go—"
"You think they'll release him because you show up?"
Sibom hesitated.
No.
But maybe he'd get answers.
Another message arrived.
*Bring the original device.*
That meant his phone.
The one with the raw video file.
They didn't just want the post down.
They wanted the source erased.
Arjun's voice echoed in his memory:
*My father doesn't work alone.*
This wasn't just about reputation.
It was about covering something deeper.
"I'm not deleting it," Sibom said quietly.
His father looked at him carefully.
"Then what's your plan?"
Sibom stared at the screen, thinking fast.
If he went alone, he'd be vulnerable.
If he didn't go, Arjun could be hurt.
Unless—
He typed quickly.
A new post.
Not a video this time.
Just a message:
*If anything happens to me or Arjun, the full unedited footage and additional copies will be released automatically.*
He didn't have additional copies.
Yet.
But they didn't know that.
He hit post.
Within seconds, it began gaining traction.
He then turned to his father.
"I need your help."
---
Fifteen minutes later, Sibom was in the back seat of his father's old car.
They didn't head directly toward the dock.
Instead, they stopped two streets away from the location.
His father handed him a small device.
"Audio recorder," he said quietly. "Keep it in your pocket."
"And you?"
"I'll park nearby. If something feels wrong, call."
Sibom nodded.
His heart felt like it might burst through his chest.
He stepped out of the car and began walking toward the dock.
The air near the river was colder.
Wind carried the smell of rust and damp wood.
The dock area was mostly empty.
One large warehouse stood near the water.
A single dim light flickered above its entrance.
A black SUV was parked outside.
Engine off.
Doors closed.
Sibom swallowed.
His phone buzzed again.
*Inside.*
He pushed the warehouse door open.
It creaked loudly.
Inside, the space was large and hollow.
Metal beams overhead.
Crates stacked unevenly.
And in the center—
A chair.
Empty.
His eyes scanned the shadows.
"Where is he?" Sibom called out.
Footsteps echoed from behind him.
He turned sharply.
Two men stood near the entrance now.
Blocking it.
Not Arjun's father.
Different faces.
Cold expressions.
Then another voice came from deeper inside.
"You came."
The man from the office glass stepped forward into dim light.
Sharp eyes.
Measured smile.
"Where is Arjun?" Sibom demanded.
"Safe," the man replied. "For now."
"That's not an answer."
"It's enough."
Sibom clenched his fists.
"You want the phone."
"Yes."
"And then?"
"Then this ends."
"Liar."
The man tilted his head slightly.
"You're brave."
"No," Sibom said quietly. "I'm tired."
The man stepped closer.
"You exposed a meeting that wasn't meant to be public."
"What meeting?"
The man didn't answer directly.
"Investors were present that night," he said instead. "People who prefer shadows."
"So you hide falls too?" Sibom shot back.
The man's expression hardened.
"It was an accident."
"And what about tying him to a chair?"
Silence.
The man's gaze sharpened.
"You misunderstand the situation."
"Then explain it."
The man studied him for a moment.
"You think Arjun was arguing with you about ego."
He stepped closer.
"But he was trying to stop something else."
Sibom felt confusion flash across his face.
"What do you mean?"
The man gestured toward the crates behind him.
"That warehouse is part of a land transfer project."
"So?"
"So certain signatures were being finalized that night."
"And?"
"And Arjun didn't agree."
Sibom's pulse quickened.
"You're saying he was against you?"
The man's jaw tightened.
"He questioned authority."
"And you silenced him?"
The two men near the entrance shifted slightly.
Tension thickened.
"We're not villains," the man said calmly. "We protect interests."
"By kidnapping someone?"
The man ignored the accusation.
"You forced our hand by making the footage public."
"So what now?" Sibom demanded.
The man extended his hand.
"Give me the device."
Sibom didn't move.
Instead, he said quietly, "If I don't return in thirty minutes, everything escalates."
The man's eyes narrowed.
"You're bluffing."
"Am I?"
A long pause.
Wind howled faintly through broken panels.
The man's gaze flickered toward the entrance, as if calculating risk.
"Bring him," he said finally.
One of the guards disappeared behind stacked crates.
Seconds felt like hours.
Then—
Arjun was pushed forward.
Hands untied now.
Face bruised.
But conscious.
Alive.
Relief and anger collided inside Sibom.
"You okay?" he asked.
Arjun nodded faintly.
The man looked between them.
"You see? No permanent harm."
"You threatened my family," Sibom said coldly.
"Because you threatened ours."
Arjun suddenly spoke.
"Stop."
Both men looked at him.
"This isn't how it ends," Arjun said, voice shaking but firm.
"You think exposing one video scares them?" he continued, looking at Sibom. "It doesn't."
The man's expression darkened.
"Careful."
Arjun ignored him.
"There are documents," he said quietly.
Sibom froze.
"What documents?"
Arjun met his eyes.
"In the warehouse office. That night."
The man stepped forward sharply.
"Enough."
But Arjun continued.
"Land acquisition files. Illegal transfers."
Sibom's mind raced.
"That's why you were arguing?"
Arjun nodded.
"I found out two days before."
The silence inside the warehouse turned suffocating.
"You shouldn't have spoken," the man said calmly.
But something in his voice had shifted.
Not anger.
Worry.
Sibom realized something important.
They didn't want violence.
They wanted quiet control.
He slowly raised his phone.
"It's not just about clearing my name anymore," he said.
The man's eyes sharpened.
"What are you doing?"
"Making sure this doesn't disappear."
Before anyone could react—
Sirens exploded outside.
Close.
Loud.
Multiple vehicles.
The two guards rushed toward the entrance.
Red and blue lights flashed through cracks in the warehouse walls.
The man's expression changed instantly.
"How?" he demanded.
Sibom's father stepped into the doorway behind police officers.
Audio recorder in hand.
"You talk too much," Sibom said quietly.
The man glared at him.
"You have no idea what you've stepped into."
Police flooded inside.
The guards were restrained.
Arjun staggered toward Sibom.
"You called them?"
"No," Sibom replied.
He looked toward his father.
"I recorded everything."
The man from the office was handcuffed.
But as officers led him past Sibom, he leaned close and whispered:
"You stopped one branch."
Sibom felt a chill.
"The roots are deeper."
The police escorted him outside.
Arjun stood beside Sibom, breathing heavily.
"This isn't over," Arjun said quietly.
Sibom nodded.
"I know."
Outside, cameras were already arriving.
News vans.
Reporters.
The viral video had drawn attention faster than anyone expected.
As flashing lights reflected across the river, Sibom realized something.
The truth had forced the shadows into light.
But shadows don't disappear.
They shift.
And somewhere beyond the dock—
Someone else was watching.
Waiting.
Planning.
And this time—
They would not underestimate him.