Prakhar was driving, rubbing his eyes again and again.His vision kept blurring...And every time he blinked, Shrey's face flashed before his eyes—That same smile, that innocence, that deep trust… tears welled up in his eyes.
He was leaving — but he couldn't convince himself when or even if he'd return.Would his plan even work...?But he still had hope — and the world survives on hope.
On that desolate night highway, the car was speeding — but his anxiety raced faster than the vehicle.
Suddenly…There was some movement in the rearview mirror.Three or four cars were chasing him at high speed.
Prakhar noticed. His jaw tightened.His grip on the steering wheel grew stronger.He pushed down on the accelerator.
But the cars kept getting closer.
Just then, a group of bikers blocked his path from the front.Prakhar slammed the brakes — a collision was certain if he hadn't.
He reversed the car slightly — and without wasting a moment, sped forward again.
As soon as his car darted ahead, the bikers scattered, abandoning their bikes.
The car cut through the trap of vehicles —Elsewhere, Kunwar, who was monitoring everything, smirked as he watched it unfold.
As soon as Prakhar's car crossed into the Udaipur border,suddenly, a massive truck appeared out of nowhere at full speed.
Before he could react —CRASH!!!
The truck slammed violently into his car.The car was completely wrecked.Smoke, shattered glass — and for a moment, complete silence.
The truck halted.A tall, burly man stepped out — casually crushed a cigarette under his boot.
He walked toward the wrecked car, smirking as he mumbled,"Looks like he's dead… the car's completely destroyed."
He leaned forward…Just as he tried to peek inside the car window—
"CHAK!"
In one swift motion, someone grabbed him from behind by the throat.
His eyes widened — his breath caught…Then he felt it —The cold, sharp blade of a knife slicing across his neck.
"Who sent you?"Prakhar's voice cut through the silence like a screeching eagle.
The man trembled — sweat soaked his entire body. Blood began to pour from his throat.
Instead of answering…He did something unexpected —He sliced his own throat with his own hands.
Prakhar's teeth clenched tight.
A stream of blood sprayed across the road.
Prakhar stood frozen.The man writhed in his hands, the sound of his breathing fading…
Prakhar shut his eyes tightly."…Advait," he whispered.
On the other end, a voice quickly responded —"Car will be there in 5 minutes, Senapati… stay alive till then…"
Prakhar exhaled with a faint laugh and pocketed the phone.There was a narrow divider by the roadside —He walked over and sat down.
The light drizzle had turned into a downpour.His clothes were soaked,Scratches marked his face —But his eyes... were staring far away.
His mind replayed everything so far...
"Who could be behind this...?"He questioned himself.
"Kunwar…? No… he would never want to kill me."His thoughts echoed —Kunwar's eyes, his words, all came flooding back...
"Raja Sahab…? But… why?"A frown formed on his forehead.
"And if not him… then who?"
The rain touched his wounds,But the questions inside hurt more.
"Who couldn't bear my return to Udaipur…?" he thought to himself.
Suddenly, a car horn echoed in the distance —Prakhar's eyes looked up. He quickly moved toward the sound.He shut his eyes for a moment and rested his head on the seat.
Within minutes…He was standing in front of the royal palace of Udaipur.
The silver-white palace sparkled —Raindrops fell upon it like pearls from the sky.Fog and cold air swirled all around.
Prakhar took a deep breath.Just as he stepped forward—
"Ch…ch… What have you done to yourself?"A voice halted his steps.
A man was approaching, smiling.
He looked around 27–28 years old,Sharp jawline, hazel-green eyes, rimmed glasses over them, and a slightly tilted confident smile.
Dressed neatly in a white shirt and black pants,his every movement radiated royalty.
He now stood directly in front of Prakhar.
Prakhar said nothing and tried to walk past him.
Peter watched him silently for a moment, then stepped quickly in front of him again.
He gently touched the cut on Prakhar's face and said —"What's the matter… still haven't dropped your habit of ignoring me?"
Prakhar brushed his hand away, but Peter's smile only deepened.
"Of course… Prakhar Joshi never lets just anyone sit on his head."Hatred and coldness were evident in Prakhar's eyes.
Peter pressed his lips together and leaned in slightly —"So much attitude...? What's wrong…?Remember — you're returning from serving a sentence, not winning a trophy."
Prakhar's gaze locked with his, his face tense and quiet.
Then he murmured —"Well… my punishment is over.That means my crime is, too… Mr. Peter.What about your crimes...?"
Peter's jaw clenched.Prakhar walked away without another word.
Peter stormed inside after him.
"Where is Advait!?"His voice echoed behind Prakhar.
Without turning, Prakhar replied coldly —"How should I know?"
Peter snapped —"Shut up, Prakhar! You know exactly where he is!"
Prakhar turned slowly, looked him straight in the eye —"Oh? If you already know, then go ahead… figure it out."
Peter's fists clenched.Hatred and impatience burned in his eyes.
Roaring, Peter said —"You think if you don't tell me, I won't find him?I will find Advait — and take him back to my world!"
Prakhar smirked sarcastically and said —"Is that so?Then why have you been chasing me for the past year?Why not go and find him yourself?"
In rage, Peter tried to grab his collar —But Prakhar twisted his arm and pinned it behind his back in a flash.
Peter winced in pain.
"Prakhar…"
A deep, commanding voice came from behind.
Prakhar immediately released Peter and bowed —"Welcome, Raja Sahab."
Raja Sahab took one look at the scene and understood everything.
"Peter, out."
Peter gave Prakhar a sharp look as he left quickly.
Raja Sahab came close to Prakhar and asked —"Is this what you've done to yourself?"
Prakhar smiled faintly —"Just a small accident… not a big deal…"
Raja Sahab spoke gently —"Come… I'm very glad to see you here.You know… Abhyavat had insisted that your sentence be reduced.In return, he even went to Oman…
The friendship you two shared still amazes me…I mean, Abhyavat… he never got so close to anyone as he did to you.And you… you took all the blame on yourself for his sake…Truly… it was a remarkable friendship."
Prakhar murmured to himself silently, lips barely moving —"It wasn't friendship...I was his obsession."