Page 128 of Since You Stole My Heart

Dhruv pushed open the corridor door as they reached the ninth floor. The polished marble reflected the muted gold carvings along the ceiling. Paintings lined the walls, and the air carried a faint fragrance of curated luxury.

‘Remember his phone. That’s the priority. Kashvi said everything’s in there.’

Vihaan nodded. ‘Got it. And try not to kill him.’

Dhruv didn’t answer. The image of his sister’s fear-stricken face kept a leash on his tongue. They quickly moved through the rows of rooms towards the private entrance to the presidential suites.

Vihaan’s phone rang and he answered it immediately. Dhruv could hear the faint murmur on the other end of the call.

‘Yeah? Great. Okay... got it. Thanks, man,’ Vihaan said before disconnecting and slipping the phone back into his pocket. ‘Prateek did a great job. One of the waiters just dropped off a dry-cleaned sherwani to 907. Only one guy is inside.’

‘You’re sure it wasn’t for someone else?’

A flicker of disgust crossed Vihaan’s face. ‘The man signed the bill as Viraj Sharma. And guess what? He charged it to the bride’s room.’

‘Unbelievable,’ Dhruv muttered contemptuously. ‘What kind of man gets married if he can’t even pay for himself?’

‘The kind that thinks he can get away with anything. Not anymore.’

Within a few steps, they stood in front of room 907.

‘You ready?’ Vihaan asked quietly, bouncing the small torch in his hand.

Dhruv slipped his hand into his pocket, his fingers closing around the cold metal of the cycle chain. He pulled it out and wrapped it around his injured hand, letting the pain anchor him and sharpen the edge of his focus.

They stepped slightly to the side of the door to stay out of sight of the peephole, and Vihaan pressed the bell.

The soft chime echoed faintly from inside before a muffled voice called out, ‘Who is it?’

Vihaan rang the bell repeatedly as he said, ‘Hotel staff. Sir, there’s a fire emergency. You need to step out immediately.’

A faint rustle came from inside, followed by hurried footsteps moving towards them. Dhruv gripped the chain tighter, the serrated edges digging into his palm.

Then the door swung open.

Viraj stepped into view, confusion etched across his face, and Vihaan flashed the torch directly into his eyes. Viraj flinched, jerking away as he raised a hand to shield them.

‘What the...’ he began, exposing the back of his neck in the process.

That single opening was all Dhruv needed.

He moved in one fluid motion, forcing a cloth over Viraj’s face. His other arm locked around Viraj’s neck as he wedged his forearm beneath his jawline, trapping him in a chokehold.

Viraj’s shout was muffled, panic spilling uselessly against the cloth.

‘Move,’ Dhruv said sharply into his ear as he forced him farther into the room.

Vihaan slipped in behind them, snapping gloves onto his hands before quietly shutting the door.

Viraj bucked violently, his body slamming back into Dhruv’s chest hard enough to send a jarring impact through him. ‘Who the fuck are you?’

‘Shut up!’ Dhruv’s injured hand protested instantly, but he ignored it. He tightened the pressure on Viraj’s neck, trying to restrain him without pushing too far.

Viraj thrashed in fury, clawing at the cloth over his face and at Dhruv’s arm around his throat, desperate to break free. Though the fabric muffled his voice, jagged threats still broke through.

Dhruv gritted his teeth as he watched Vihaan move through the massive living room, yanking open drawers and cabinets. He could feel Vihaan’s impatience too. They had only a few minutes at best, and Viraj’s phone was nowhere in sight.

Viraj suddenly lashed a leg backwards, catching Dhruv just above the kneecap. Pain shot up his leg in a hot, blinding wave, and his balance faltered for a split second.