Riyan didn't sleep.
Neither did I.
The night stretched endlessly between us, thick with plans, fear, and a determination that refused to let either of us break again.
By dawn, the mansion felt like enemy territory.
Riyan stood by the window, phone pressed to his ear, voice low and controlled.
"Yes," he said. "I want everything. Medical logs, transport records, staff rotations. No deletions. No filters."
He paused, listening.
"And don't notify anyone internally. If my mother hears about this before I do, you're fired."
The call ended.
He turned to me, eyes sharp.
"I contacted an external forensic auditor," he said. "Not connected to the family. Not bribable."
My heart pounded.
"That means they'll notice," I said. "The moment files start getting accessed—"
"They already know," he cut in calmly. "Now we make them panic."
There was something terrifyingly steady about him now.
Not rage.
Control.
He walked toward me, stopping just a step away.
"Aarvi," he said quietly, "from this point on, everything we do is deliberate. No emotional reactions. No sudden confrontations."
I nodded. "Then what's the first move?"
He handed me a phone.
Not mine.
A new one.
Encrypted.
"This stays with you," he said. "Only three contacts exist on it. Me. A lawyer. And a doctor from Arjun's old hospital."
My breath caught.
"You found him?"
"Not yet," Riyan replied. "But someone who remembers him."
A knock echoed suddenly through the room.
Sharp.
Unannounced.
We both froze.
Riyan's eyes hardened instantly.
"Stay behind me," he murmured.
He opened the door.
Trisha stood there.
Smiling.
Too carefully.
"Brother," she said lightly, "Mother is asking for you."
Riyan didn't return the smile.
"She can wait."
Trisha's gaze flicked to me—
lingering.
Measuring.
"You look tired, Aarvi," she said sweetly. "Big night?"
Riyan stepped slightly to block her view.
"Say what you came to say," he said coldly.
Her smile thinned.
"Fine," she replied. "Mother is hosting a private dinner tonight. Family only."
Riyan raised an eyebrow.
"Convenient," he said. "After last night."
Trisha shrugged.
"She wants to fix things."
That almost made me laugh.
Riyan didn't.
"Tell her I'll attend," he said. "And Aarvi will sit beside me."
Trisha's expression cracked for half a second.
Then recovered.
"Of course," she said smoothly. "Family."
When she left, Riyan closed the door slowly.
"That dinner," I whispered, "is a trap."
"Yes," he agreed. "Which is why we're going."
He looked at me, eyes steady.
"They want to watch us. Measure how much we know. Decide their next move."
I swallowed.
"And us?"
"We let them think they still have control," he said. "While we collect proof."
A vibration buzzed from the new phone in my hand.
Unknown contact.
My breath caught.
I answered.
"Aarvi?" a male voice whispered. "It's me."
My pulse spiked.
"Doctor Mehra," he continued nervously. "You asked about patient A.M."
"Yes," I whispered, stepping away slightly. "What do you know?"
A pause.
Then—
"He wasn't discharged," the doctor said quietly. "He was relocated. Off-record. And the order didn't come from the hospital."
My grip tightened.
"Where did it come from?"
The doctor lowered his voice.
"From a private security firm," he said. "One owned by the Malhotra Group."
My stomach dropped.
Riyan's eyes darkened when I relayed the words.
"That confirms it," he said. "They didn't just hide Arjun."
"They imprisoned him," I whispered.
Riyan's jaw clenched.
"Tonight," he said softly, "they'll try to scare us back into silence."
He reached for my hand.
"But tomorrow," he continued, voice deadly calm,
"we take our fight outside this house."
I squeezed his hand back.
Because the truth was clear now:
This wasn't just about a lost brother.
Or a forced marriage.
It was about dismantling a power built on blood, lies, and silence.
And the war had officially begun.