"Did you think about your family when you betrayed mine?" he asked quietly.
"He threatened them! Suryakant said he'd kill my wife, my daughters—"
"And now you'll never see them again." Samarth raised the gun. "That's the price of betrayal."
"No! Please! I'll do anything—"
The shot echoed in the warehouse.
Suresh's body slumped forward, the hole in his forehead perfectly centered.
Samarth holstered his gun and turned to where his father stood watching.
"Clean this up," he told Abhay, his voice devoid of emotion. "Make sure the body is found. I want everyone to know what happens to traitors."
Raghbir approached him as they walked out.
"No hesitation," his father observed.
"Hesitation is weakness."
"And mercy?"
"Mercy is for those who haven't betrayed us."
Raghbir studied his eldest son for a long moment. "They're going to start calling you The Executioner, you know. After tonight."
"Let them." Samarth's voice was cold. "Fear is more useful than love."
"And what about your own family? Your future wife? Your children?"
Samarth's jaw tightened. "I don't need a wife. I don't want children. This business requires my full attention."
"Every man needs—"
"I'm not every man."
He'd meant those words then. Believed them completely.
He'd had no idea that eight years later, his father would force him into a marriage that would upend everything he thought he knew about himself.
Present
"Boss?"
Samarth blinked, pulled from the memory. "What?"
"I asked about security for the gala," Abhay repeated. "We're expecting several high-profile targets. We need to make sure there are no vulnerabilities."
"Double the usual detail. Run background checks on all the catering staff. No one gets close to the family without clearance."
"What about Mrs. Ranawat?"
Samarth's hand tightened on his glass. "What about her?"
"She was at the market today," Abhay said carefully. "Buying books. Alone. No security detail."
"She doesn't need one."
