The corridor shook with the sound of panic. Somewhere in the distance, glass shattered as chandeliers fell from their chains. The screams of Delhi's elite replaced the polished hum of an hour ago.
Shivam staggered out of the hallway, blood still dripping from a split lip, his shirt clinging to his back. Smoke was curling up from the far end of the ballroom where overturned tables and broken lights littered the marble floor.
The once-glittering gala had turned into a chaos zone.
Guests were rushing toward the exits heels snapping, tuxedos torn, people shoving past one another in blind fear. Some clutched their phones, others just screamed. The scent of perfume, and burning insulation filled the air.
Shivam pushed through the panicked crowd, scanning faces. He could barely hear himself over the chaos. "Bhumika!" he shouted. "Sumit! Suchitra!"
No reply only the noise of hundreds trying to survive.
Then, through the flickering lights and haze, he saw them. Sumit was standing on a table, waving his arm, trying to guide people toward a side door. Suchitra stood guard near him, silver gown torn at the hem, a pistol she must have taken from one of the fallen guards in her hand. Bhumika crouched behind an overturned buffet counter, helping a bleeding woman crawl to safety.
Relief hit him like oxygen. He jumped down the stairs, weaving through the chaos. A guard lunged at him, baton raised. Shivam moved on instinct sidestepped, caught the man's arm, and slammed his elbow into the guard's ribs. The man doubled over. Shivam grabbed the back of his neck and drove him headfirst into the table's edge. The wood splintered. The guard didn't rise again.
"Shivam!" Sumit's voice cut through the noise. "You're Okay!"
He didn't answer he didn't have to. He vaulted over a broken chair and reached Bhumika just as another guard swung toward her. Shivam caught the strike mid-air, twisted the man's wrist until the baton dropped, and drove a knee into his gut. The guard hit the floor hard.
Bhumika stared up at him, breathless, her face smudged with soot and shock. "You look like hell," she said, voice shaking.
"So do you," he replied, helping her up. "Where's Kairav?"
"Gone," Suchitra said, stepping closer. Her tone was clipped, focused. "He left through the service wing. Half the security followed him."
Sumit added, "And the rest are still trying to kill or capture us. Place is swarming."
Shivam adjusted his grip on the baton he'd stolen. "Then we clear our way out. Stay close."
Four more guards appeared through the smoke, moving in formation, guns drawn but held low to avoid panic. Shivam raised a hand to his team. "Non-lethal. Drop them fast."
Sumit grinned faintly. "Thought you'd never say it."
The first guard came in swinging. Shivam parried and drove a baton into the man's wrist, disarming him with a twist. Bhumika ducked behind him, grabbed a tray from the floor, and hurled it into another guard's face. The clang echoed. Suchitra kicked off her heels, sliding across the marble to sweep a man's legs from under him, then struck him clean across the jaw with her pistol's handle.
Sumit tackled one from behind, locking his arm around the man's neck and slamming him into a pillar. "That's for ruining my suit," he muttered, breath ragged.
Within seconds, all four were down. The crowd continued to pour past them, fleeing toward the open gates. Alarms blared from every direction. Smoke rolled across the hall like a ghostly tide.
Shivam turned to the others. "We need to get out before Delhi Police locks this place down."
As if summoned by the words, sirens echoed from outside real ones this time. Blue lights flashed through the main doors as a convoy of police vehicles screeched to a halt in front of the ruined ballroom.
Bhumika flinched. "If they see us, they'll think we caused this."
Shivam didn't answer immediately. His eyes had caught something familiar through the broken glass doors a police jeep, the old model his father still drove himself on field duties. The door swung open, and a commanding voice cut through the chaos.
"Shivam!"
He froze. The voice was impossible to mistake. ASI Jitender Sharma, his father, stood by the jeep, scanning the burning remnants of the gala, disbelief plain on his face.
Sumit blinked. "Wait, is that ?"
"Yeah," Shivam muttered. "That's him."
Without wasting a second, he grabbed Bhumika's hand and gestured sharply to Sumit and Suchitra. "Move. Now."
They pushed through the last of the panicked crowd and ran for the exit. Jitender's eyes widened as the four of them burst through the doorway, bruised, bloodied, and covered in soot. "Shivam! What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded, reaching for his son's arm.
"Paa, not now," Shivam said, voice steady but urgent. "We need to leave first. I'll explain everything once we're clear."
His father's confusion deepened, but the tone in Shivam's voice was enough. Without another word, Jitender jerked his head toward the jeep. "Get in."
The four of them piled into the back, breathing hard. Jitender slammed the gears, tires screeching as they tore out of the burning venue and into the Delhi night.
The police jeep tore through the Delhi streets, its siren muted but its lights still flashing across the empty flyovers. Inside, no one spoke at first. The only sounds were the hum of the engine and the occasional static burst from the police radio.
ASI Jitender Sharma drove like a man balancing fury and disbelief. His uniform was creased, his sleeves rolled high, and his jaw clenched tight enough to make the muscle twitch. His hands gripped the steering wheel hard enough that his knuckles had gone pale. The man who usually radiated calm authority now looked like someone trying to process a nightmare he hadn't been briefed for.
In the rear seat, Shivam sat beside Bhumika. Her fingers were still linked with his, though neither had realized they hadn't let go. Sumit sat opposite them, rubbing the side of his bruised neck, while Suchitra leaned against the window, staring out at the blur of streetlights.
The silence was thick.
Finally, Jitender broke it. "You disappear for thirty-six hours," he said, voice controlled but trembling beneath the surface, "and I find you in the middle of a corporate chaos. Tell me, Shivam what were you thinking?"
Shivam didn't answer immediately. His gaze stayed fixed outside, on the streaks of neon passing by, the reflection of police lights glancing off his face. "I wasn't," he said quietly. "Not at first."
"That's not good enough." His father's tone sharpened. "Do you have any idea what that place was? I've been working on SynerTech for months. Half of Delhi Police is under orders because of what happened there tonight. And you " his eyes flicked to the rear-view mirror, locking on his son's reflection " you were right in the middle of it."
Sumit shifted awkwardly. "Sir, it's not exactly what it looked like "
"Sumit," Shivam said softly, a warning edge to his tone.
But Jitender wasn't letting go. "And who are they?" he demanded, glancing at the group through the mirror. "You vanish from the home, drag your brother's friends into this, and now I see you sneaking out of a burning gala with half of SynerTech's security chasing you. You better start talking before I lose my temper."
Bhumika leaned forward slightly. Her voice was gentle, but it carried conviction. "Sir, please. He's telling the truth we didn't plan for any of this. We were trying to stop something worse."
"Worse?" Jitender echoed, eyebrows raised. "You're covered in blood, and I just saw ministers being evacuated from a building that looks like a war zone. How much worse can it get?"
Shivam finally turned from the window. The passing lights caught the cut on his cheek and the exhaustion etched into his eyes. "Paa," he said quietly, "you're going to have to trust me on this. Right now, explanations won't help. We need to get to a safe place first."
Jitender held his son's gaze in the mirror for a long second before exhaling sharply through his nose. "Where?"
"Lajpat Nagar," Shivam said. "Anchal Rathod's office."
The name gave Jitender pause. "PI Rathod's Daughter?"
Suchitra nodded. "She's with us. We had to do it to save Aanchal who is caught by Syner tech."
Jitender muttered something under his breath but didn't argue further. He turned off the main road, cutting through the quieter streets where the traffic thinned and the city seemed to hold its breath. The silence in the jeep shifted not the tense kind anymore, but the heavy kind that comes when everyone knows there's too much to say.
The radio crackled again. A voice spoke hurriedly over static. "All units, be advised. SynerTech complex fire spreading to adjacent structure. Suspected internal sabotage. Unknown group involved. Maintain perimeter."
Jitender reached out and switched it off. The hum of the engine filled the void once more.