The morning after the masquerade, Aashika woke up tangled in silk and bruises of love.

But Riaz was already gone. She found a note on the pillow beside her:

“Early meeting. Lock the doors. I’ll be back before lunch. Don’t leave. – R”

The scent of his cologne still lingered on the sheets. She smiled. But deep inside, an unease pulsed.

In the boardroom of R Enterprises, Riaz stood flanked by his closest men. His fingers tapped against the mahogany table as Aryan slid a dossier toward him.

"He’s moving again. Kunal’s been seen near her office three times in the past two days."

"He’s provoking me," Riaz muttered.

"Or testing you."

Riaz’s voice turned lethal. "Either way, I’m done watching. The next time he breathes her name—he stops breathing altogether."

He stood.

"Tighten security around her building. Track every vehicle parked nearby. He wants a game, I’ll play. But I don’t lose."

Back at her office, Aashika sat reviewing designs when her assistant walked in with an envelope.

"Courier said it’s personal. No sender name."

Aashika frowned. Opened it.

Inside was a photograph.

Her. At the masquerade. Her back exposed. A red X scrawled over her.

Her breath hitched.

Beneath it, a note:

"You were always meant to be mine. He can’t protect you forever."

She dropped it.

Her hands shook.

By the time Riaz arrived, she was in his office, pacing.

He read the note. Then turned and punched the glass wall.

Blood dripped from his knuckles.

"He wants war."

"What do we do now?" she whispered.

He walked to her, took her trembling hands in his.

"Now? Now, I stop being a businessman. Now, I remind him what a Malhotra does to men who threaten what’s his."

That night, she didn’t sleep.

Neither did he.

Instead, his men took positions. His guns were cleaned. His enemies notified without words.

And Kunal Kapoor?

He had no idea what was about to come.

Riaz wasn’t sending warnings anymore.

He was bringing hell.