Hearing Aurora's words, Evan's hand clenched over the disjointed armrest crushed by his hold, drawing anxious glances from everyone in the cabin.
They dared not approach him and ask what was going on. They stepped back in fear, sensing a freezing sensation radiating from him.
Evan sat expressionless, simmering with restrained fury beneath the surface. The dim cabin lights reflected the cold glint in his eyes, sharp and dangerous. His mind spun rapidly, processing Aurora's update.
[Miss Suri might be in danger.] Aurora spoke, her voice tense.
[And now Richard, Paul, Jagesh, Noah, and Somalia are all in Indra. Too many pieces were converging in one place; it definitely isn't a coincidence.]
Evan exhaled through his nose, frustration bubbling below the surface. The timing was too perfect, almost as if someone had been anticipating his moves. He clenched his jaw, containing the growing storm within.
"Aurora," Evan said quietly but firmly, his tone razor-sharp, "I need every bit of intel we have on the situation, now."
Aurora's voice remained steady, though she seemed aware of the gravity of the situation.
[Sir, from what we know, Richard's presence in Indra was unexpected; he wasn't scheduled to be there until next week. As for Paul, there's no record of his entry into Indra—no flight logs, no official movements. That's a red flag.]
Evan's brow furrowed. "They slipped under the radar? Someone had cleared their tracks."
[Yes, sir. And since the staff at the party were suddenly replaced, I suspect that multiple factions might be at play. If they're colluding, the threat could be larger than it seems.]
Evan leaned forward, his mind calculating every angle.
Richard and Paul wouldn't risk a casual meeting; there had to be a scheme behind it. And if Jagesh, Noah, and Sonalia were there too, the danger to Suri might be more severe than he had initially thought. A trap? An assassination? Or was it all an elaborate setup for something even larger?
Aurora's voice interrupted his thoughts again. [Sir, I've also run a secondary analysis. It suggests that if this gathering is connected to the hostile forces we've been monitoring recently, the outcome might involve more than Miss Suri's safety. We could be looking at a larger play for power.]
Evan closed his eyes for a second, drawing in a slow, deep breath. His instincts told him that this wasn't just a simple assassination attempt. If Paul and Richard were involved in this, the political implications could spiral beyond anyone's control.
Opening his eyes, Evan gave a cold, deliberate nod.
"They always wanted to get rid of Suri. He would do anything to get ahead." Enjoy more content from mvl
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The business suite occupied the top floor of a towering skyscraper in New Dilli, overlooking the sprawling city below. The room was dimly lit, its vast windows, reflecting a blend of the city's glow and the subtle orange of dusk.
Inside, a heavy atmosphere hung in the air. Two men sat across from each other, their silence weighted with animosity. One of them, a middle-aged man with streaks of gray in his dark hair, tossed an old, worn Nokia phone onto the polished marble table.
"Take it out," he growled, leaning back in his seat, his cold, calculating gaze never leaving the man in front of him.
The younger man remained silent for a moment, flipping through a set of documents in his hand.
His posture was relaxed yet purposeful, legs crossed, one arm draped over the chair's armrest. His face was strikingly handsome, with sharp features that carried a natural elegance and the way he held himself was confident, almost bordering arrogance, as if accustomed to power.
The middle-aged man scowled.
"What happened? Your mood seems to have taken a turn for the worse," he remarked.
The younger man finally asked, looking up from the papers, raising his eyebrows in mild curiosity.
"Nothing much. Just Evan... and your parents," he muttered, bitterness lacing his words. "They've found out everything. And now they're coming for us."
A brief silence followed as the younger man's expression shifted, his amusement replaced by an edge of seriousness.
"Evan?" His hand paused mid-page, lingering over the document as he processed the news. His brows were furrowed, not in fear, but in cold calculation.
"You know they're not really my parents," he continued after a beat, his voice even and deliberate. He then met the older man's gaze directly, his lips curling into a faint, knowing smile.
"After all, you are my real father."
The words hung heavily in the air, thick with unspoken history and betrayal. The older man's expression didn't shift, though a flicker of something—satisfaction or regret—passed through his dark eyes.
"Indeed," the older man murmured, leaning forward slightly. "Which is why you'd better not mess this up. I had been planning this for my entire life, so we can't falter now. As long as there is no one to prove his legitimacy, you will be the next head. So don't mess up."
The younger man's smile deepened, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "I never do."