"Bhai—"
"NOW!"
The investor scrambled out of the room, clearly sensing the danger. Rishabh pulled out his phone, already making calls.
Within an hour, Sidharth had mobilized every resource at his disposal. Men flooded the streets, checking every known safehouse, every contact, every possible location. Security footage was pulled from every camera within a five-block radius of the bakery.
And Sidharth... Sidharth became someone even his own men feared.
"The Khanna family," Arjun reported, his arm in a sling from being knocked unconscious. "We found evidence linking them to the kidnapping. They've been making moves against the alliance for weeks."
"Where?" Sidharth's voice could have cut glass.
"We're trying to locate—"
"I didn't ask you to try. I asked you where." He grabbed Arjun by the collar. "My wife is out there, scared and alone, and you're telling me you're trying?"
"Sir, we're doing everything—"
Sidharth released him with a shove. "Do more. Everyone does more. Find her. Or I start eliminating people until someone gives me answers."
He wasn't bluffing. The men in the room could see it—the cold, lethal intent. The mafia king, fully unleashed.
Advika woke with a pounding headache and her wrists bound behind her back.
She was in a warehouse—she could tell from the echoing acoustics and the smell of dust and oil. Dim light filtered through high windows. Around her, she could hear movement, voices.
"She's awake."
A man appeared in her field of vision. Mid-forties, scarred face, cold eyes. "Mrs. Singhania. Welcome. I apologize for the rough treatment, but you didn't leave us much choice."
"Go to hell," she spat.
He smiled. "Spirited. I like that. Unfortunately for you, you're now a bargaining chip. Your husband has been getting too powerful, and we need to remind him that he's not invincible."
"He'll kill you for this."
"He'll try. But first, he'll have to find you." The man crouched down to her level. "We've taken precautions. This location is off the grid. No one knows we're here. And we'll be moving you soon, just to be safe."
Advika's mind raced. She needed to slow them down, give Sidharth time to find her. Her wrists were bound, but not well—whoever had tied them had done it hastily. She could feel a little give in the rope.
"Why target me?" she asked, buying time. "I'm just a baker."
"You're more than that. You're the bridge between the Pradhans and Singhanias. Break that bridge, and the whole alliance crumbles." He stood. "Nothing personal. Just business."
"Business that's going to get you killed."
"We'll see." He gestured to one of his men. "Watch her. We move in two hours."
As soon as he left, Advika started working on the ropes. The rough fiber bit into her skin, but she ignored it, twisting and pulling. Years of kneading dough had given her strong hands and wrists. She could do this.
The guard assigned to watch her was young, nervous. He kept glancing at her, then away.
"What's your name?" she asked quietly.
"Shut up."
"Come on. We're going to be here for a while. Might as well talk."
