The video arrived in a plain envelope.
No name. No sound. Just grainy footage from a camera hidden deep inside one of Kabir’s safehouses.
A man stood in the center of the frame. Tall. Clean-shaven. Dark eyes burning like oil set on fire.
Meher watched as he looked directly at the lens—
And smiled.
Kabir froze beside her.
“That’s not possible,” he whispered.
“It’s him,” Meher said. “It’s Rehan.”
Kabir turned away like the screen itself burned. “I saw him drown.”
“Maybe the river changed him.”
Kabir slammed his fist into the wall. “No. I made sure. That night, I—”
He stopped.
Meher stepped in front of him, calm but firm. “You killed your brother because he betrayed you. You buried that guilt. But now it’s clawing back.”
“He was jealous. Twisted. He wanted the empire… and her.”
“Her?” Meher blinked. “Who?”
Kabir’s voice cracked. “My fiancée. Before you.”
Meher’s breath caught.
“He killed her,” Kabir whispered. “And I killed him.”
But Rehan hadn’t stayed dead.
He had returned, not just as a ghost,
But as a rival.
Now he didn’t want Kabir’s empire.
He wanted what Kabir still loved.
And Meher could feel it in her bones—
This war wasn’t about blood anymore.
It was about possession.
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