ch 41 bitter dream
The laughter faded almost instantly as Aditya's phone buzzed sharply against the table.
He glanced at the screen his expression hardened in an instant.
The playful warmth in his eyes was replaced by the cold, sharp look that only came when something was wrong.
He excused himself, standing up. "Excuse me, one second."
But the second he answered, everyone could sense the shift in the air.
"—What?" Aditya's voice turned steel. "When?"
Everyone went silent.
Aarav's gaze locked on him, his chair shifting slightly. Raghav straightened, his smile gone.
Aditya walked a few steps away from the table, his jaw tightening.
"Yes. Secure the area. No one moves until I say. Trace every contact who's been near that port in the last forty-eight hours."
He hung up, turned around, eyes blazing.
Aarav spoke first, low and commanding, "What happened?"
Aditya exhaled slowly, but the fury in his tone was unmistakable.
"Eastern ports. Blown apart. Three of our containers gone the shipment, the men... all gone."
Raghav immediately stood, mind already calculating. "Which port exactly? And who had access codes?"
"Port 9," Aditya said, sliding his phone onto the table with the map pulled up. "And from the reports, it doesn't look accidental."
Aarav's voice was cold as ice. "So it's a message."
Meera and Prerna exchanged worried glances. The cheerful air of a moment ago was replaced by the heavy silence of tension and danger.
Aarav stood, buttoning his coat. "We're going to the base. Now."
Aditya nodded. Raghav was already calling his security team, while Kabir pushed his chair back and cracked his knuckles.
"Whoever did this," Kabir growled, "is about to regret breathing."
Ashiana stood up slowly, worry flooding her face. "Sir... is everything okay?"
Aarav looked at her his expression softened, he kisses ashiana's forehead. "Nothing for you to worry, Stay here, Ashiana. Don't step out of this mansion until I come back. Understood?"
Ashiana nodded hesitantly.
He gave her one last look a silent promise before turning away, his brothers following behind him.
-------------------------
At the Mafia base
the air was thick with tension and gunpowder.
The usually silent underground chamber buzzed with chaos men rushing back and forth, files scattered, the hum of security monitors flashing red warnings.
Aarav entered first, his long coat trailing behind him like a shadow. The moment his foot hit the marble floor, everyone stopped. Even the hum of conversation seemed to choke itself silent.
Aditya followed, barking orders to the tactical teams. "I want full visual on Port 9's security feed! Every frame, every second. I don't care if you have to dig it out of hell find it!"
Kabir's boots thudded heavily as he walked toward the weapons rack, grabbing his handgun and checking the chamber.
His voice was pure venom. "They dared touch our territory. Someone's going to bleed for this."
Raghav stood near the giant screen, his fingers flying across the keyboard. The feed flickered alive a grainy video of the Eastern Port, flames lighting up the night, smoke curling into the sky.
Aarav's jaw clenched. "Slow it down."
Raghav zoomed in on a figure moving near the dock seconds before the explosion. The man wore a cap, face barely visible but then he turned slightly, and Aarav's eyes narrowed.
"Pause," Aarav said, voice sharp.
Raghav froze the frame.
Aditya stepped closer. "That's..."
Aditya's words hung in the air unfinished as the frozen frame on the screen stared back at them.
Kabir's face went bone-white for a beat then he barked, disbelief cracking into fury.
"Ricci?,
No that can't be. We buried him a month ago." His voice hit the room like a thrown brick. "We killed Ricci ourselves. There's no way—"
Raghav didn't waste a heartbeat.
He scrubbed forward and back through the footage, zooming, enhancing, running facial recognition through the database.
The image stuttered, pixels stretching and snapping back, but the outline, the tilt of the head, the scar by the eyebrow a dozen tiny markers that made the throat in Aarav's chest tighten.
Aditya moved closer to the screen, a cold, hard calm settling over him. "Either it's him... or someone is using him as a message. Someone wants us to believe Ricci is back."
He tapped his phone, already pulling cross-checks. "Pull the autopsy report. Pull every movement from the crew that handled Ricci's body. Check for misidentification, grave tampering everything."
Kabir ground his teeth. "This is sick. If they faked Ricci... if someone staged this to taunt us — they're more dangerous than I thought."
He slammed a fist against the table, the sound echoing. "Whoever's behind this has balls."
Raghav's eyes were already three steps ahead. "I'll run an anomaly trace compare gait, the way he moves, any thermal signature differences. If it's a double, I'll find the pattern."
He tapped at the keyboard so fast the keys chirped like gunfire. "Also check for gym profiles, new prosthetics, anything that could explain facial reconstruction. And cross-reference the payment trails who benefited from Ricci 'dying'?"
Aarav stood perfectly still, the kind of silence that shrank the room. His voice was very low, very dangerous.
"If Ricci is alive someone faked our kill, or we were lied to they don't just insult us. They set the table to burn it down."
He looked toward the general map on the wall, then back at his brothers.
"We escalate. Full surveillance of known Ricci associates. Move our men on his old safe houses. If that's a stunt, we'll find the finger pulling the string. If it's him... we end him properly this time."
Aditya nodded but didn't take his eyes off the screen. "I'll get forensics to re-open Ricci's case file. Raghav, prioritize facial analysis and thermal overlays. Kabir, ready a team nonlethal first to capture if possible. I want intel I want reasons. We act on information, not anger."
Kabir's grin was thin, hard as a blade. "Capture if possible. But if they put Ricci in front of us to laugh I'll enjoy tearing them apart afterward."
Raghav's fingers flew; the monitors around them rearranged into a tactical map. On the wall, CCTV windows multiplied, phone pings blinked, and satellite grids lit up like a constellation of threats.
Aarav's jaw tightened. "We find out who put Ricci's face on that feed. Then we find out who they work for. We end this before they realize they started a war."
The room moved. Men took positions, engines readied, secure channels opened.
The clock ticked past midnight
The monitors still glowed dim blue, silent sentinels of chaos. Paperwork, files, and half-drunk cups of coffee littered the chamber.
Aditya had dozed off on the leather sofa, exhaustion finally claiming him after twenty straight hours of field intel and crisis coordination.
Then the silence broke with a faint gasp.
His fingers twitched, his brow furrowed, and his breath quickened.
Smoke.
Screams.
Fire crackling.
In his dream, no, in that memory, the house burned like a monster breathing red.
Flames licked the walls, devouring everything. A young boy barely twelve stumbled barefoot through the collapsing hallway, his face smeared with soot and tears.
"baby... chotii.. kaha ho tum?" he cried, choking on smoke.
(baby.. my little sister.. where are you..)
His small hands tore through the debris, searching desperately for the sound of a baby's cry.
Somewhere in that inferno, a cradle had been where his baby sister lay, barely a month old.
He ran room to room. "Please... please, ro mat,"
(Please.. please.. dont cry)