Ishan lay on the couch, staring up at the cracked ceiling, his mind racing. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the image of Aditya standing so close to Shubman earlier that night. The easy way they interacted, the familiarity that hung in the air between them-it gnawed at him. He hated the feeling, the jealousy that had started creeping in. What did it even matter to him? Shubman wasn't his-he wasn't even supposed to be someone he liked. So why did it bother him so much?

He clenched his fists, feeling the fabric of the couch beneath his fingers, gripping it tightly as if holding onto some form of sanity. Across the room, Shubman sat by the window, his back turned, eyes fixed on the street outside. Always watching, always calculating, as if danger lurked just around the corner. Ishan's gaze lingered on him, noticing the tension in Shubman's shoulders, the way his jaw tightened every now and then. It was almost as if Shubman felt the weight of the world on his shoulders-and maybe, in a way, he did.

Ishan swallowed hard, pushing the thoughts aside. He didn't want to feel this-this pull towards Shubman, this weird mix of attraction and frustration. It made everything more complicated. But deep down, he knew it was already too late. The lines had blurred, and he was starting to see Shubman differently.

In the dim light of the room, Shubman turned, catching Ishan's gaze. For a moment, neither of them said anything, the silence stretching between them. Ishan wanted to look away, to break the connection, but something held him there. The unspoken tension that had been growing between them for days now seemed too thick to ignore.

"You okay?" Shubman asked, his voice low, almost cautious. His tone wasn't one of concern, more like he was checking for any signs of rebellion or weakness.

Ishan blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Yeah, fine. Just... thinking."

"About what?"

Ishan hesitated, his mind flashing back to Aditya. He wanted to ask about him, to understand what Shubman's relationship with him had been, but he didn't want to seem affected. It wasn't his place, and he knew it. Instead, he shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Just everything. How we ended up here. It's a lot."

Shubman nodded, his gaze softening a little. He stood, the motion smooth and deliberate, and crossed the room, stopping just short of where Ishan lay. His presence was overwhelming, a mix of danger and something else-something protective. Ishan could feel it, that magnetic pull between them, growing stronger with each passing second. There was something about Shubman that made him feel both safe and on edge, a confusing contradiction that left Ishan's heart racing.

"You don't have to worry," Shubman said, his voice steady, a strange calm in it. "I won't let anything happen to you."

Ishan wanted to believe him. He really did. But the doubts were still there, simmering beneath the surface. His gaze drifted to the window, trying to find something to focus on, something to distract him from the way his heart raced every time Shubman was near.

"Aditya..." Ishan started, the name slipping out before he could stop himself. "You two seem close."

Shubman's expression shifted ever so slightly-just enough for Ishan to notice. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, as if weighing his words carefully.

"We were... once," Shubman said, his voice quieter now. "It was a long time ago. Things were different back then."

Ishan's chest tightened. He didn't know why he felt this way-this strange knot of jealousy twisting inside him. Shubman had a past, of course he did. But the idea of someone else knowing him in a way that Ishan didn't-it unsettled him.

"Why does it matter?" Shubman asked, raising an eyebrow. There was no malice in his tone, but there was curiosity.

"I don't know," Ishan muttered, looking away. "It doesn't. I just... noticed."

Silence fell between them again, but this time it was heavier, thicker. Ishan could feel the tension rising, not the kind that came from danger, but something more intimate. His heart pounded in his chest, and he hated how vulnerable he felt under Shubman's gaze.

Shubman took a step closer, his presence filling the small space between them. Ishan's breath hitched as he looked up, finding Shubman's eyes locked on him with an intensity that made his pulse quicken.

"You don't have to worry about Aditya," Shubman said, his voice low and almost reassuring. "That's in the past. He's not... important anymore."

Ishan's throat tightened, and he forced a nod, though he couldn't quite shake the uneasy feeling. He wanted to say something, to break the tension, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, he stayed quiet, his eyes flicking to Shubman's lips before he quickly looked away, cursing himself for even thinking about it.

Shubman didn't miss the glance, though, and for a moment, the air between them shifted, the tension becoming almost palpable. He leaned down slightly, his eyes never leaving Ishan's.

"Ishan..." Shubman started, his voice barely above a whisper, but before he could say anything more, the sound of shattering glass broke through the air like a gunshot. Both of them snapped to attention, their bodies tensing instantly.

Ishan's heart leapt into his throat as he saw the window, now shattered, and the faint movement of shadows outside.

"They're here," Shubman hissed under his breath, grabbing Ishan's arm and pulling him to his feet. The next few seconds were a blur-Shubman shoving Ishan behind him, drawing his gun as he moved toward the broken window.

Ishan's mind raced. He could barely process what was happening. But then, just as quickly as it had started, it was over. Figures in dark clothing stormed the apartment, and before Ishan could react, they had him pinned to the ground, a rough hand pressing against the back of his neck.

"Ishan!" Shubman's voice was desperate now, but he was outnumbered. He fought, throwing punches, trying to reach Ishan, but it was too late. More men grabbed Shubman, dragging him down despite his struggles.

Ishan's face was pressed to the cold, dusty floor. His mind whirled in confusion as strong hands held him down. He struggled to breathe, his heart pounding with fear and adrenaline. He heard Shubman's grunts and the thud of fists landing, but the more he struggled, the tighter they held him.

"Don't scream," a voice above him said calmly, though the edge in his tone was unmistakable. "I'm not here to hurt you."

Ishan's mind was spinning, but he managed to lift his head slightly, just enough to see the man standing over him. Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a crisp suit that seemed out of place in the dingy hideout. The man's gaze was sharp, calculating, and Ishan knew instantly-this was one of them. The ones Shubman had warned him about.

"What do you want?" Ishan managed to rasp out, his voice shaky, but defiant.

The man smiled, a slow, cold smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I just want to talk. About Shubman."

At the mention of Shubman's name, Ishan's heart lurched. The man's eyes gleamed with something dark, something dangerous.

"You don't know him like we do, Ishan," the man said, his voice smooth, persuasive. "You think he's protecting you, keeping you safe. But he's playing you. The money, the lies-it's all part of his game."

Ishan narrowed his eyes, trying to stay calm, trying to push through the fog of confusion. "You're lying. Shubman's-"

The man cut him off, his smile widening. "Shubman's been working for us from the start. You think you're special? You're just another job to him."

Ishan shook his head, his mind racing. "No. He saved me. He-"

"He saved you because he needed you alive for the payout," the man said coldly. "His father's life hangs in the balance. Do you really think he'd choose you over his own blood?"

Ishan's chest tightened, his breathing coming in short, quick gasps. The doubt crept in, slow at first, but undeniable. The man's words slithered through his defenses, planting seeds of distrust that took root far too easily.

"He's been playing both sides," the man continued, his voice low, almost soothing. "Feeding us information while keeping you close, making you believe you're safe with him. But in reality, he's the one who led us to you. Every time you move, every hideout-you think he's doing that to protect you? No. He's doing it to give us just enough time to close the deal."

Ishan's head swam, his world tilting on its axis. Was it possible? Could Shubman have been lying to him this whole time? No, he couldn't-Shubman was tough, distant, but he had saved him, risked his life. But then, the man's words drilled into his mind, making him question everything.

"I can prove it," the man said softly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a phone. He scrolled through a few messages and held it up to Ishan's face. The text thread showed conversations between Shubman and an anonymous contact, detailing Ishan's movements, location, and vulnerabilities.

Ishan's heart sank. His pulse quickened, and the weight of betrayal crashed down on him. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think straight.

"No," Ishan whispered, shaking his head. "It can't be."

"See for yourself," the man insisted, pushing the phone closer to Ishan. "He's playing you, Ishan. He's always been playing you."

Tears welled in Ishan's eyes, blurring his vision. He didn't want to believe it, but the evidence was right there. His throat tightened as the thought of Shubman's betrayal ripped through him like a jagged blade.

The man leaned down, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Come with me. I can take you away from all of this. I'll make sure you're safe. Your father..."

Hearing his father's name made Ishan freeze. His father. In all the chaos, he had almost forgotten about his family. His father was still out there, waiting for him, worried about him. Shubman had always told him to stay hidden, to stay away from his family for their safety. But what if that had been part of the lie too? What if Shubman had been keeping him away so that no one could find him? So that he could control everything?

The man straightened up, his voice cold and calculating. "I know your father. He's been trying to get you back. We've been working together, Ishan, to save you. But Shubman... he's been blocking every attempt. He wants you for himself."

Ishan felt his heart skip a beat. Could it really be true? The weight of his father's involvement changed everything. His father wouldn't lie to him, wouldn't betray him like this.

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" Ishan asked, his voice hoarse with emotion.

The man smiled and pulled out a small radio. He clicked it on, and a voice crackled through the speaker. It was his father's voice. "Ishan! Ishan, if you're hearing this, please, you need to trust the man who's with you. I've been working with him to get you out of there. You need to come back home."

Tears spilled down Ishan's cheeks. His father's voice was desperate, filled with fear and concern. The man was telling the truth. His father was working to save him, and Shubman had been keeping him trapped in this nightmare.

Ishan's body shook as he made the decision. "I'll go," he whispered. "I'll go with you."

"No," Shubman's voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding. He struggled against the men holding him, his face bruised, blood trickling from his lip. "Ishan, don't listen to him. He's lying."

But the doubt had already rooted itself too deep in Ishan's heart. His father's voice had sealed the deal. Ishan stood, shaking off the last of his hesitation.

"I'm sorry, Shubman," he said, his voice trembling. "But I can't stay. I need to go home. I need to see my father."

"Ishan!" Shubman shouted, his eyes wide with desperation. He pulled against the men holding him down, but it was no use. Ishan turned away, the decision already made.

The man smiled triumphantly and gestured to his team. "Get him out of here."

As they began to lead Ishan toward the door, Shubman's voice called out one last time, raw with emotion. "Ishan, don't do this. You're walking into a trap!"

Ishan froze for a moment, his heart pounding, but the pull of his father's voice was too strong. He couldn't turn back now. With a deep breath, he stepped through the door and into the unknown.

But the nightmare wasn't over.

Minutes later, after Ishan was gone, the man who had taken him returned. His calm demeanor had shifted into something darker, more malicious. Without warning, he struck Shubman hard across the face, sending him sprawling to the floor.

"You think you can save him, Shubman?" the man sneered, kicking him viciously in the ribs. "You think you're some kind of hero?"

Shubman grunted in pain, curling up defensively as the man continued to pummel him. Blood dripped from his mouth, his vision blurred with the force of the blows, but he didn't fight back. Not anymore. He had already failed Ishan.

"You're nothing," the man spat, grabbing Shubman by the collar and dragging him up. "You played your part well, but in the end, you couldn't protect him. And now, you're going to pay for that."

With one final punch to the gut, the man let Shubman fall to the ground, gasping for breath. His body was battered and broken, but the pain in his chest-the thought of Ishan walking away-was far worse.

As darkness began to creep in around him, Shubman whispered Ishan's name one last time, his voice filled with regret.

"Ishan..."

[A/n:
What do you think?Is it a trap for Ishan?Should Ishan trust Shubman or turn around? ]