Ishira stared at the convoy.
Then at Ivaan.
Then at the convoy again.
Then back at Ivaan.
"No."
A message instantly arrived.
😈 Devil: Yes.
🦋 Butterfly: You're insane.
😈 Devil: Come downstairs.
🦋 Butterfly: No.
😈 Devil: Thirty seconds.
The audacity.
The absolute audacity.
Five minutes later...
Ishira walked into the villa's living room.
Still wearing pajamas.
Hair slightly messy.
Looking extremely annoyed.
The front door opened.
And in walked Ivaan.
Like he owned the place.
Which somehow irritated her even more.
Behind him stood two security men.
Professional.
Silent.
Waiting.
Ishira immediately pointed.
"What is this?"
Ivaan calmly took a seat.
"What does it look like?"
"It looks like you've started a military operation."
"No."
"It literally does."
"No."
The deadpan answer made her want to throw something.
A few moments later.
Kiara finally came downstairs.
Still sleepy.
Still confused.
Until she saw the security convoy outside.
Then she saw Ivaan.
Then she saw Ishira.
Immediately she turned around.
"Nope."
She tried walking back upstairs.
A dangerous voice stopped her.
"Sit."
Kiara immediately sat.
Survival instincts.
Very strong survival instincts.
The living room became silent.
Then Ivaan opened a file.
Placed it on the table.
And slid it toward Ishira.
She opened it.
Her eyes widened.
Maps.
Routes.
Hotel bookings.
Emergency contacts.
Security schedules.
Medical information.
Everything related to the road trip.
Everything.
Every single detail.
"What is this?"
"The road trip."
"I know that."
"Good."
The calm answer nearly ended her patience.
"Why do you have all this?"
Silence.
Then—
"Because I requested it."
Kiara immediately looked away.
Pretending she wasn't listening.
Failing.
Badly.
Ishira continued flipping through the pages.
Then stopped.
Her eyes narrowed.
Immediately.
"What is this?"
A page.
Highlighted.
Several names listed beneath it.
Security personnel.
Assigned personnel.
Emergency response team.
Her eyes moved lower.
Then froze.
Assigned Under Special Observation: Ishira Sharma
The room became quiet.
Very quiet.
Slowly—
Very slowly—
She looked up.
Toward the Devil.
"You assigned security to me?"
"No."
She looked relieved.
For exactly one second.
Then—
"I assigned security around you."
The relief vanished.
Instantly.
"WHAT IS THE DIFFERENCE?"
"A lot."
"There is literally no difference."
"There is."
"There isn't."
"There is."
The argument immediately began.
Again.
Meanwhile—
Kiara had reached a conclusion.
A very important conclusion.
The Devil had completely lost his mind.
Because no normal person prepared a fifty-page security file for a college road trip.
Absolutely nobody.
Finally—
Ishira crossed her arms.
"I'm still going."
"Good."
She blinked.
"What?"
"You're still going."
The answer confused everyone.
Including Kiara.
Including Ishira.
Even the security men looked surprised.
Because they had expected a war.
Not agreement.
A faint smirk appeared on Ivaan's face.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
Then he spoke.
"You'll enjoy the trip."
A pause.
Then—
"So will I."
Silence.
Complete silence.
Ishira frowned.
"What does that mean?"
The smirk widened slightly.
And for the first time all morning—
The Devil looked genuinely pleased.
"Butterfly."
"What?"
"I'm one of the guest supervisors."
The villa exploded.
"WHAT?!"
Kiara's scream was heard from three rooms away.
"WHAT?!"
Kiara's scream echoed through the entire villa.
Even the security guards outside looked concerned.
Meanwhile—
Ishira simply stared.
Completely frozen.
"No."
The answer came immediately.
Ivaan leaned back calmly.
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
"You are not coming."
"I am."
"You can't."
"I can."
"You shouldn't."
"I should."
The calm replies only made everything worse.
Kiara was trying very hard not to laugh.
Trying.
And failing.
Badly.
Ishira pointed accusingly.
"This is your doing."
"No."
"It absolutely is."
"No."
"The moment you found out I registered—"
"Coincidence."
The lie was terrible.
Absolutely terrible.
Even the security guards looked unconvinced.
A few moments later.
Ishira grabbed the event brochure.
Flipping through pages furiously.
Then—
She found it.
Her eyes widened.
Because his name was actually there.
Professor Ivaan Mehra
Faculty Supervisor & Leadership Mentor
The betrayal.
The absolute betrayal.
"You planned this."
"No."
"You did."
"No."
"You did."
"No."
The argument continued for several minutes.
Meanwhile, Kiara had completely switched sides.
This was entertainment.
Premium entertainment.
Finally—
Ishira dropped onto the sofa dramatically.
"I am not sitting near you."
"Fine."
"I am not talking to you."
"Fine."
"I am not listening to you."
This time—
A faint smirk appeared.
"That one is unlikely."
The comment earned a cushion directly at his face.
A very mature response.
The cushion never reached him.
One of the security guards caught it mid-air.
Professional instincts.
Very impressive.
The room became quiet again.
Then suddenly—
Ivaan's phone rang.
His expression immediately changed.
The amusement vanished.
Gone instantly.
The Devil returned.
He answered.
"What happened?"
Silence.
Then his eyes narrowed.
Dangerously.
The room suddenly felt colder.
Even Kiara noticed.
"What is it?" she whispered.
Nobody answered.
Several seconds passed.
Then—
"I'll handle it."
The call ended.
Immediately.
Zyan's message arrived next.
ZYAN: We found the source.
The playful atmosphere disappeared.
Completely.
Ivaan stood.
His expression unreadable.
Cold.
Focused.
Dangerous.
The kind of expression that reminded everyone exactly who he was.
Not a professor.
Not a trustee.
Not a mentor.
Something far more powerful.
Far more feared.
He picked up his coat.
Then looked toward Ishira.
"Stay with Kiara today."
The words were simple.
But the tone wasn't.
For the first time—
There was no teasing.
No sarcasm.
No argument.
Just an order.
A serious one.
And before Ishira could ask a single question—
The Devil walked out.
Leaving behind a very confused Butterfly.
And a feeling that something much bigger was about to happen.
The moment Ivaan left Mooncrest Villa—
The atmosphere changed.
No more teasing.
No more smirks.
No more arguments.
The Devil was working.
Meanwhile, at BlackThrone...
The private elevator opened directly onto the executive floor.
Several employees immediately stepped aside.
Nobody spoke.
Because everyone could tell something was wrong.
Very wrong.
Ivaan walked straight toward the operations room.
The doors opened.
Inside—
Zyan was already waiting.
Several screens displayed information.
Maps.
Photos.
Reports.
And one particular file.
The file that had caused all this trouble.
The moment Ivaan entered, every man in the room stood.
"Sit."
Immediately everyone obeyed.
Zyan pushed a folder across the table.
"We found the source."
Ivaan opened it.
Slowly.
Patiently.
Dangerously.
His eyes moved across the pages.
Then stopped.
For several seconds—
Nobody spoke.
The room was completely silent.
Finally—
"What do we know?"
One security chief stood.
"The threat wasn't random."
Another added—
"They've been watching movements for months."
A third continued—
"They know about the summit."
The room grew colder.
Much colder.
Because if someone knew about the summit—
They knew about powerful people.
Important people.
Dangerous people.
And that made them a problem.
Then another screen lit up.
A photograph appeared.
One man.
Unknown.
Dangerous-looking.
The room became silent again.
Zyan folded his arms.
"He works for one of our rivals."
Ivaan's expression remained unreadable.
"Which one?"
The answer came immediately.
The entire room tensed.
Because the name wasn't small.
Not at all.
This wasn't some street-level problem.
This was someone with influence.
Someone with resources.
Someone stupid enough to challenge BlackThrone.
A fatal mistake.
Several minutes later.
Plans were already being discussed.
Investigations.
Surveillance.
Security.
Every possible angle.
Then suddenly—
One of the security officers hesitated.
A mistake.
A very noticeable mistake.
Ivaan immediately noticed.
"What?"
The officer swallowed.
Then pointed toward another file.
"There's one more thing."
The room became quiet.
Again.
The officer opened the file.
And slid a photograph across the table.
The moment Ivaan saw it—
His eyes darkened.
Dangerously.
Because the photograph wasn't of a rival.
Wasn't of a criminal.
Wasn't of a target.
It was—
Ishira.
Leaving Blackwood University.
Taken from a distance.
Without her knowledge.
Without permission.
The room immediately became tense.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody moved.
Because everyone understood what that meant.
Someone had been watching her.
Zyan slowly looked toward Ivaan.
Then immediately looked away.
Because the expression on the Devil's face was terrifying.
Completely terrifying.
For several seconds—
The room remained silent.
Then finally—
Ivaan stood.
Slowly.
Calmly.
Too calmly.
The most dangerous kind of calm.
"Find everyone involved."
His voice was cold.
Deadly.
The order was simple.
But every man in the room understood.
This wasn't a request.
It wasn't a discussion.
It wasn't negotiable.
"Every single one."
Nobody argued.
Nobody questioned.
Because for the first time that day—
The Devil looked genuinely angry.
And somewhere across Manhattan...
A Butterfly had absolutely no idea that a war was beginning because someone had made the mistake of putting her name in the wrong file.
Completely unaware of what was happening at BlackThrone—
Ishira was sitting in the garden with Kiara.
A cup of coffee in her hand.
Phone beside her.
And absolutely no idea that half of Manhattan's underground network was currently hunting people because of a photograph.
Meanwhile—
Kiara was scrolling through social media.
Suddenly she frowned.
Then frowned again.
Then looked at Ishira.
"Do you ever feel like something weird is happening?"
Ishira looked up.
"What kind of weird?"
"I don't know."
Kiara shrugged.
"Like the kind that happens in movies."
Immediately—
Ishira thought about Ivaan's sudden security arrangements.
His strange warnings.
The serious phone call.
The convoy.
Everything.
For a brief moment—
She felt uneasy.
Then her phone vibrated.
Immediately.
The contact name appeared.
😈 Devil
She opened the message.
😈 Devil: Where are you?
Her eyebrows rose.
🦋 Butterfly: Garden.
The reply came instantly.
😈 Devil: Stay there.
Now she was suspicious.
Very suspicious.
🦋 Butterfly: Why?
Several seconds passed.
Then—
😈 Devil: Because I said so.
The worst answer possible.
Again.
BlackThrone Headquarters
The operations room remained silent.
The photograph of Ishira was still displayed on the screen.
Nobody dared speak.
Nobody dared move.
Because the Devil was angry.
Genuinely angry.
A rare occurrence.
A dangerous occurrence.
Then suddenly—
One of the screens flashed.
A notification.
A location.
The room immediately became alert.
A technician stood.
"We found one of them."
Silence.
Then—
A dangerous smile appeared on Ivaan's face.
The kind that made experienced men nervous.
Very nervous.
Zyan immediately noticed.
And sighed.
Because someone was about to have a very bad day.
A very, very bad day.
"Location?"
The answer appeared on the screen.
An abandoned warehouse near the docks.
Outside Manhattan.
Remote.
Quiet.
Perfect for people trying to hide.
Unfortunately for them—
BlackThrone had found them.
Ivaan picked up his coat.
Immediately.
The meeting was over.
Everyone knew it.
Zyan stood as well.
"Should I come?"
A dark look answered him.
The kind that translated into:
"Why are you even asking?"
Zyan nodded.
"Fair enough."
Several black SUVs rolled out of BlackThrone minutes later.
Moving through Manhattan traffic.
Heading toward the docks.
Toward answers.
Toward the people who had made a serious mistake.
Because in their attempt to gather information—
They had crossed a line.
And now—
The Devil was coming personally.
Meanwhile, across the city, Ishira sat in the garden reading messages from Kiara, completely unaware that her name had become the center of a storm that was only beginning.
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