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Aditya and Ruhaan moved in silence down the corridor, their footsteps muffled against the old carpet.
The study room door creaked open, and the familiar scent of old books and wood polish greeted them.
Aditya poured two glasses of water, his hands trembling just slightly. Ruhaan stood by the window, staring into the inky blackness outside.
"Do you think it's all connected?" Aditya finally asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Maa, Masi and ira's murder… the suicides at school… and now this new disappearance?"
Ruhaan didn't turn around. "Too many coincidences," he muttered. "Too many young lives lost. Too many secrets swept under the rug."
Outside, the wind howled, rattling the windows. Inside, the silence between them was heavy—with grief, with anger, and with the gnawing fear that the truth was darker than they'd ever imagined.
Aditya slammed the file shut, his jaw clenched. His eyes, usually calm and calculating, now burned with a cold fire.
"If uncle knows something," he said, voice low and steady, "then we need to go deeper. No more waiting. No more guessing."
Ruhaan glanced at him, surprised by the sudden sharpness in his tone.
Aditya stood, walking slowly toward the window, fists tight at his sides.
"Whatever comes between us and the truth—whoever it is—we end it. No emotion. No concern. Just justice..." he paused, voice cracking, "...Masi always said fortune favors the bold. No matter what, power always wins."
He turned back, meeting Ruhaan's eyes without a flicker of hesitation.
"This is for Mom. Masi. For Ira. We owe them that much."
The room fell silent again, but this time it pulsed with dangerous clarity.
The brothers weren't just searching for answers anymore.
They were preparing for war.
Aditya paced back and forth, tension drawing tight lines on his face, while Ruhaan sat cross-legged on the floor, flipping through an old journal that once belonged to their mother.
"We're missing something," Aditya muttered, more to himself than to his younger brother. "Maa's death… they wrote it off as an accident. And now students are being murdered. Same pattern. Same silence."
Ruhaan looked up, voice low but steady. "What if it's all connected? What if they knew something?"
"I'm telling you," Aditya said, rubbing his temples. "Mom and Aashi didn't just die. It was covered up. The suicides, the murder—this reeks of something bigger."
Ruhaan sighed. "You think it's a conspiracy?"
Before Aditya could respond with his usual sarcasm, Ruhaan's phone lit up. A name flashed across the screen that made Aditya stop mid-step.
INCOMING CALL: MAFIA NANU
Ruhaan blinked. Aditya nearly choked on air.
"Is that… who I think it is?"
"Yeah," Ruhaan said, lips twitching into a grin. "The OG himself."
"But—Dad said we cut ties with him years ago! He doesn't even know we—"
"Apparently he does," Ruhaan said, tapping to answer and putting it on speaker.
A dramatic pause.
Then, a deep, gravelly voice, laced with sarcasm and mischief:
"Areee o beta RUHAAN! My warrior! My diamond! My emotional damage specialist!"
Ruhaan chuckled, "Nanu, please—"
"Beta! When a mafia don calls, you shut up and enjoy the compliments!"
Aditya whispered, "He hasn't changed."
"Beta ADITYA! You're here too! Still alive, haan? Or you finally joined the family business and faked your death like a proper gangster?"
Aditya leaned against the wall, smirking. "Still alive, Nanu. Though your timing's suspicious. You always call when people start dying."
"Coincidence!" the old man scoffed. "Or maybe I just have great intuition. Mafia sixth sense, you know?"
Aditya, still unsure whether to laugh or panic, whispered, "He sounds exactly the same."
"Damn right, brooding boy!" Nana continued. "Still brooding like Abhishek? Don't worry, beta. We all start serious until someone threatens our dog."
Aditya raised an eyebrow. "We don't have a dog."
"Exactly my point!" Nana cackled. "No dog, no leverage. Good strategy!"
"Beta Ruhaan, I saw the news. Murder. Suspicious suicides. Family secrets! Very filmy. You're growing up well—exactly like your mother."
Ruhaan's smile faded slightly. A soft flicker of pain passed his face.
Nana's voice dropped, serious. "She was fire. That girl lit up this dull underworld like Diwali. And you—you're her shadow. Not your father. YOU. The heart. The brain. The loyalty. The drama."
Aditya frowned. "Wait… are you trying to recruit my brother into your mafia?"
"Recruit?" Nana gasped. "Beta, this is not an internship. This is legacy! Do you know how rare it is to find a boy who can cry watching a sad movie AND fire a gun with poetic timing?"
Ruhaan looked smug. "Not interested, Nanu."
"You are my chosen one!" Nana cried. "Aditya can keep overthinking and pacing! But you—YOU will wear the velvet coat and sit on the underworld throne. I even got your mafia name ready."
Aditya groaned. "Oh god."
"'Ruhaan Boss – Drunk Blood!'"
Ruhaan blinked. "Nanu… I sound like I drink blood instead of water."
"EXACTLY!" Nana shouted, overjoyed. "And every enemy who drinks that blood… dies inside slowly!"
Aditya facepalmed. "I can't believe this is real."
"Believe it, brooding boy," Nana said.
Ruhaan crossed his arms. "Why are you calling us, Nanu? You disappeared. We thought—"
"I am the disappearance, beta," Nana said dramatically. Then, serious again:
"You've stepped into something big. This school, those deaths, your mother—none of it was random. You think your father cut me off because of crime? No. He cut me off because I knew too much."
A beat.
"Meet me at midnight. Same old abandoned train yard. Just you two. No cops. No Abhishek Agnihotri. No emotional baggage. I have a surprise."
The line crackled.
"Also bring snacks. These meetings are long."
Click. Disconnected.
Silence.
Aditya turned to Ruhaan, incredulous. "We're seriously going?"
Ruhaan nodded, standing up dramatically. "I think it's time we accepted our destiny."
_____________________________
The moon hung low in the sky, casting a pale silver glow over the rusting train tracks and scattered debris. An eerie fog rolled across the ground like a ghostly warning.
Ruhaan stood with his arms crossed, dressed in black from head to toe, eyes sharp.
Aditya leaned against a broken pillar, still and unreadable, but the way his fingers tapped against his thigh gave away the storm brewing inside.
"He's late," Aditya muttered.
"He's always late," Ruhaan replied. "Drama runs in the family."
Ruhaan and Aditya mother's—Prathna and Mannat—weren't just sisters by fate. They were the daughters of India's most feared underworld king. yuvraj Rathore.
Ambika Rathore (Rathore's sisters mother) wanted peace. But his husband—he wanted war. And their daughters... they paid the price for their sins.
After some time, a metallic clang echoed through the yard.
From the shadows, a tall figure emerged—wearing a dusty maroon velvet coat, aviators, and a dramatic red muffler that looked straight out of a 90s gangster film.
YUVRAJ RATHORE.
"You called, I came. With snacks." He held up a dabba of homemade samosas with a triumphant grin.
Ruhaan blinked. "...You really brought snacks?"
"You don't fight wars on an empty stomach," Nanu declared, plopping down on an overturned barrel like it was a throne. "Now listen carefully, boys. Because what I'm about to tell you... will rewrite everything you thought you knew."
Aditya narrowed his eyes. "This better not be another 'when I was your age' story."
"It isn't, you ungrateful child," Nanu huffed. "This is about your mother. About both your mothers."
Silence.
Ruhaan straightened. "Go on."
Yuvraj Rathore pulled out a crumpled, yellowed photo—of two young women, arms around each other, laughing in the sun. On the back, scribbled in faded ink:
"For the Rathore girls who dared to dream."
"I failed them," Nanu whispered. "I left before the final storm came. And now... their shadows are hunting you both."
"They were my daughters. Mannat and Prathna. I raised them to be queens. But I couldn't save them."
He looked at Aditya, then Ruhaan.
"You two were just boys when I walked away. I thought I was protecting you by staying in the shadows. But I see now... the war never ended. It just changed faces."
Aditya clenched his jaw. "So you knew?"
"I knew they were betrayed. But I didn't know by whom."
Ruhaan's fists trembled. "Agnihotri's?."
Nanu's eyes turned cold.
"The Agnihotri Empire wasn't built on politics, business, or education. It was built on blood deals, and your mothers were sacrificed to keep it clean in the public eye."
Aditya muttered, almost to himself:
"No wonder I hate that surname. Every time I hear it, something inside me... burns."
Mafia Nanu placed a hand on his shoulder. "That's not hate, beta. That's your blood screaming for justice."
He pulled out a flash drive, handed it to Aditya.
"Start here. This contains the Rathore Dossier—everything I collected over the years. Files on enemies. Secrets buried in school. And a list of names who were part of... Operation Clean Slate. The mission that killed your mothers."
Aditya's eyes went razor-sharp. "Who leads it now?"
Nanu's smile vanished.
"I don't know but"
He paused "that person must be powerful more than me and even Abhishek "
Ruhaan turned to his cousin—his brother in fate, if not by blood.
"bhai."
Aditya's eyes flickered.
Ruhaan extended his hand. "No more silence. No more shadows. If we're going down this road, we go together."
Aditya stared at his hand for a beat. Then clasped it tightly.
"Together."
Mafia Nanu smirked, wiping his eyes. "Ah, finally. Rathores behaving like Rathores."
yuvraj stood, dusted off his coat, and added casually,
"Oh—and one more thing. That school you attend? It's not just hiding murder."
He looked them both in the eye.
"It's built on blood."
TO BE CONTINUED...