Tables Turned

The first gunshot rang out like a starting bell to their doom. Chaos erupted.

Aksh didn't flinch—he didn't need to. His men moved like phantoms, precise and merciless, cutting through the enemy like wolves among sheep. Screams choked the air as bodies hit the ground, but Aksh barely spared them a glance.

His focus was on the man in front of him—the fool who had dared to orchestrate this pathetic attempt on his life. The man staggered back, the weight of realization sinking in.

"You…" he gasped, his voice cracking with terror. "You're—"

A swift movement—Mr. Jung's knife sank into the man's shoulder, cutting off the words before they could taint the air. He dropped to his knees, gasping for breath, but Aksh crouched before him, gripping his jaw with a brutal grip.

"You were saying?" Aksh asked, his voice dangerously soft. The fear in the man's eyes was answer enough.

Meanwhile, across the city, in the penthouse, Ahana's world tilted as the door burst open. She had braced for the worst, for bloodshed and agony—but what came instead was an overwhelming force of power.

Meher.

She stood at the front, her presence like a war goddess, leading an elite force that cut through the attackers with ruthless precision. Bullets flew, but Meher barely blinked, her blade flashing in the dim light.

"Stay behind me," she ordered Ahana without sparing her a glance. "This place is locked down. No one touches you."

Ahana's heart pounded, hands trembling as she watched the battle unfold. The men who had come for her—so confident, so assured of their victory—were being slaughtered.

And in that moment, Ahana understood something.

Aksh was not just powerful. He was unstoppable. And anyone who dared to cross him… never lived to regret it.

The air reeked of blood and gunpowder, bodies sprawled across the floor like discarded pieces in a losing game. Aksh stood in the center, untouched, his smirk carved with merciless satisfaction. The few men still alive stared at him in horror, their guns slipping from their trembling hands.

"Pathetic," he murmured, tilting his head. "You really thought I was running?"

Silence. No one dared to breathe.

Aksh took a slow step forward, his presence suffocating. "From the moment you set your sights on me, I knew. I let you chase me. Let you believe I was desperate. Weak." His voice dripped with mockery. "But tell me—when did you finally realize?"

One of the wounded men coughed, his face pale with shock. "It was never us hunting you," he whispered, eyes widening in sick realization. "It was you—playing with us."

A dark chuckle rumbled from Aksh's chest. "Exactly."

His hands slid into his pockets as he paced around them, like a predator circling dying prey. "Every call you made? I intercepted it. Every move you planned? I let it happen. I wanted you to feel close to victory… just to rip it away at the last moment."

His gaze darkened, amusement flickering into something far more dangerous. "And now, here you are. Helpless. Knowing that from the very beginning—"

He crouched before the last man still conscious, his smirk sharp enough to cut.

"—you were already dead."

The heavy doors creaked open, and the sound of boots echoed through the bloodstained hall. A dozen men in black stepped inside, their movements disciplined, precise. At their center, dragged like a lifeless corpse, was Black Shadow—bound, beaten, and barely breathing.

Aksh sat on the chair like a king on his throne, one leg lazily crossed over the other, fingers tapping rhythmically against the armrest. His expression was unreadable, but his dark eyes gleamed with cold amusement as his men shoved Black Shadow forward.

The man hit the ground with a thud, groaning in pain as his bloodied face lifted just enough to meet Aksh's gaze. But the moment he did, his breath hitched.

Terror. The kind that seeped into bones and rotted the soul.

"You look surprised," Aksh murmured, tilting his head. "Did you really think you could hide from me?"

His men stepped back, forming a silent perimeter. The room was thick with tension, every pair of eyes locked onto the unfolding scene.

Black Shadow spat blood, glaring up at him. "You… you were never supposed to—"

"Find you?" Aksh cut in, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh, I didn't find you, Shadow. You walked straight into my hands."

He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, voice dripping with lethal amusement.

"And now… you're going to tell me everything."