"Shit, man… what kind of uncle do I even have? Not even a single photo of his own father—and when I asked why, he says, 'Why remember a father who abandoned us in the middle of life's storm?' I mean, come on… he was your dad, at least you could've kept one picture. Now where am I supposed to find Grandpa's photo? I need to know what that dream is trying to show me… what it wants from me. For now, I guess I'll go to Dad's house… maybe I'll find something there. I'm sure Dad never forgot his own father…"
Om muttered to himself as his car sliced through the dimly lit road, his mind tangled in the conversation he had just had with his uncles. His face carried a quiet heaviness, his eyes lost somewhere far beyond the windshield. The disappointment was clear—he had hoped for answers about his grandfather, but instead, he had walked away with nothing but bitterness and unanswered questions.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, the atmosphere couldn't have been more different.
Under dazzling lights and shimmering chandeliers, Anshika, Seema, and Supriya stood together at a lavish party, dressed elegantly, drinks in hand, laughter floating effortlessly between them.
"Well… this party is pretty amazing, right?" Anshika said, scanning the grand decorations and the flawless service with an impressed smile.
"Of course it is!" Seema chimed in proudly, lifting her chin slightly. "My dad organized it. It had to be amazing."
She looked at them with a playful air of pride, and both Anshika and Supriya couldn't help but smile at her little display.
Then Supriya, hesitating just a little, added softly, "You know… it would've been even better if Om was here, right?"
The moment his name came up, the energy shifted ever so slightly. Anshika and Seema both fell quiet for a second, their thoughts drifting toward him.
"Yeah…" Seema said, her voice lowering, a hint of sadness slipping through. "But when Dad found out about the attack on Om's family, he thought it'd be better to give him some time alone… even the Mayor agreed. That's why we didn't invite him this time. Though Dad did call Ahuja Uncle… but Vijay Uncle also felt the same way. So… I guess this time, it's just without him."
Anshika nodded slowly. "Yeah… what happened was really bad. He probably does need some time alone. But still… I hope he's okay."
"Exactly," Supriya added quietly.
"Seems like you ladies really miss him… and honestly, I agree."
A familiar voice interrupted them.
All three turned around—and there they were. The Mayor, Kathwani Sir, and Seema's father, all standing behind them with warm smiles.
Seema's eyes lit up instantly. "Dad! Really? Can I call Om here?"
Her father chuckled, nodding. "Of course, of course. Honestly, this party is because of him. Thanks to Om, I managed to sell those Z-Stones at an incredible price. That boy… he's truly something. The Ahuja family was supposed to be the main guest tonight, but I found out late about the incident. I couldn't postpone the event since the invitations were already out… but yes, you can definitely call Om. Go on, invite your friend."
As the three men began to walk away, the Mayor suddenly stopped, turned back, and said thoughtfully,
"And one more thing… Om is different. You don't find boys like him again and again… because there's only one like him in this world. So… all the best."
With that, he turned and left.
But his words lingered.
They didn't just pass by—they settled deep.
Even Kathwani and Seema's father seemed momentarily lost in thought before brushing it off and moving on. But for the three girls, it was different. The weight of those words stayed.
Because somewhere, deep down, all three of them knew the truth they never said out loud—
They all liked Om.
Anshika might've been the closest to him, but even she didn't know what was going on in his heart… who he truly liked. And that uncertainty quietly unsettled all of them.
Then suddenly, Seema clapped her hands lightly, breaking the silence with a smile.
"Come on, Anshika! What are you waiting for? Call Om—get him here!"
Snapped out of their thoughts, Anshika smiled. "Yeah… yeah, I'm calling him."
She quickly dialed his number, and all three stood close together, waiting eagerly for him to pick up.
Back in his car, Om glanced at the screen and raised an eyebrow.
"Now what does this girl want… calling me at this hour? Shouldn't she be at the party?"
He smirked faintly. "Let's see what madam wants."
He picked up.
"Yeah, say."
"Heyy Om! Where are you?" Anshika's cheerful voice came through.
"Driving. And you?"
"At the party! And we all miss you!"
Om let out a soft chuckle. "It's not like I've gone to another country. We'll party together next time."
"Wait—Supriya and Seema want to talk to you!"
"Hey, handsome! What's up?" Supriya's teasing voice came in.
"Hey, champu!" Seema added playfully.
Om smiled slightly. "Hey Seema, hey Supriya."
"Om, come on yaar," Anshika jumped back in. "Just come to the party. Everyone's missing you!"
Om paused for a moment, then said gently, "Ah… sorry. I've got something important to do right now. Next time, pakka."
Anshika's eyes flickered with a thought. "What if you finish your work and then come?"
"I can… but I have to do it today," Om replied.
Anshika instantly winked at the other two.
And then—all three spoke together, their voices perfectly in sync:
"Fine! We don't care—just get here as soon as possible. If you don't… then remember, three beautiful girls will be angry with you. And you know what they say—you never upset beauty. So hurry up and come!"
Before Om could respond—
The call disconnected.
"Hey—hey, wait—!" Om tried, but it was too late.
He stared at the screen for a second… and then laughed softly.
"Well… now I have to go."
But just a short distance ahead—
His car rolled into a massive traffic jam.
Om frowned, looking around.
Strangely… no chaos.
People stood quietly, either inside their cars or gathered outside, all staring ahead in silence.
Om blinked in surprise, then smirked.
"Wow… has the public actually improved? No shouting, no abusing, no honking madness… in traffic? That's new."
But then—
His eyes narrowed.
Something wasn't right.
Because the reason behind that eerie silence…
Was standing ahead.
Kamla Thakur.
And beside him—his injured younger brother, Raj… the same boy Om had beaten mercilessly.
Raj lay half-conscious, dragged out into the open road, exposed under the night sky as if displayed like a broken trophy. Kamla stood beside him, radiating dominance, soaking in the fear around him.
And the crowd?
They weren't calm.
They were terrified.
With Singhania dead, Kamla Thakur now saw himself as the king of the city—and no one dared to challenge that belief.
"Ha ha ha…" Kamla's laughter echoed through the stillness, cold and unhinged. "My brother… this city is ours now. We are its kings."
He bent slightly toward Raj, his eyes burning with vengeance.
"Don't worry… I'll find the man responsible for this. And right here… in the middle of this road… I'll give him a death so brutal… you'll watch it with your own eyes."
He straightened, his voice rising, dripping with madness and pride—
"Because now… we are the rulers here."