The next day…
The atmosphere was electric as students prepared for the day's games. The Shield was determined to dominate, and tensions were high. Wick stood at the edge of the field, his sharp eyes scanning the players, his mind focused on victory.
But then, someone approached him.
The moment Wick heard the words, he froze. His informant whispered something that sent a surge of heat through his veins—Shristi and Vivaan were in a relationship.
He wasn't surprised.
But he was angry.
He didn't let it show, not yet. Instead, he poured his energy into the matches. By the end of the day, The Shield had secured another resounding victory. The celebrations were loud, but Wick was eerily silent.
Later that evening, as the crowd dispersed, Shristi found him standing alone, his expression unreadable. She hesitated before stepping closer.
"How are you?" she asked, her voice soft.
Wick turned to her, his face devoid of emotion. "How do you think I'm doing?"
She studied him for a moment before speaking. "I think you're hurt."
Wick made a weird, exaggerated face of annoyance. "No, I don't get hurt, Shristi."
She crossed her arms, unimpressed. "No, you don't admit that you get hurt. You get angry, cover it up, and then do something stupid."
Wick let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "You know what? Why would you even think that I liked you?"
Shristi smirked, tilting her head. "That's not surprising. I'm just surprised that you thought I would love you back,Vivaan told me everything about you and he suggested to keep our relationship private till he comes back."
For the first time, Wick's smirk faltered. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "Now that hurts." He paused before adding, "But the fact is, I like you. I don't love you—at least not yet."
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Shristi standing there with her own thoughts.
---
Nothing significant happened for the next two days. But on the third day, trouble found its way back.
Shristi was on her way to meet Vivaan when a boy accidentally bumped into her. Still irritated from earlier, she reacted on instinct—her hand snapped across his face in a sharp slap.
The entire corridor fell into stunned silence.
The boy staggered back, his face burning red with humiliation. Shristi didn't wait for his reaction. She insulted him, throwing sharp words in his direction before walking away without looking back.
She reached Vivaan and was about to speak when she noticed movement behind him. The boy she had slapped was back—this time, he wasn't alone.
A group of boys trailed behind him, their expressions dark and menacing.
Vivaan immediately stepped in front of Shristi, raising his hands in an attempt to de-escalate the situation. "Look, let's talk about this—"
The boy cut him off with a sneer. "There's nothing to talk about."
Before they knew it, they grabbed Vivaan, restraining him as the rest of the gang moved toward Shristi. The boy she had slapped stepped closer, his eyes burning with fury.
"You think you can just walk away after that?" he spat, his voice laced with venom. He began hurling insults at her, his words sharp and cutting.
Then, suddenly—
A blur of movement.
A sharp crack echoed through the air as Wick's foot connected with the boy's face, sending him sprawling onto the ground, unconscious.
The gang erupted in chaos. They turned on Wick, swarming toward him, but he moved like a storm, weaving through their attacks effortlessly. His fists and kicks landed with precision, dropping one opponent after another.
But just as things were getting out of hand, his friends—Deep, Dev, and Dipanshu—rushed in. The four of them fought side by side, overwhelming the attackers until the gang lay scattered, groaning in pain.
Vivaan was released, stumbling forward before regaining his composure. He rushed to Shristi's side, checking her over anxiously. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.
Shristi nodded, her expression still tense. Vivaan turned to Wick, gratitude evident in his eyes. "Thank you," he said sincerely.
Wick barely acknowledged him, his gaze sharp as he turned to Shristi. "Why did they attack you?"
Shristi crossed her arms, still fuming. "I slapped him."
Wick's expression darkened. "Are you mad? Do you even know who he is?"
Shristi shrugged, her voice indifferent. "I don't care. I'm guessing they're one of your rival gangs."
Wick let out a humorless laugh, rubbing his temple. "Yeah, sure. Everything is always about me, right?" He exhaled sharply before leveling her with a serious look. "If they were a rival gang, they wouldn't have had the guts to touch anyone in this campus."
Shristi frowned. "Then who—"
"The boy you slapped is the son of a political party leader," Wick interrupted. "And the real danger isn't him. It's his brother."
Shristi narrowed her eyes. "And what's so special about his brother?"
Wick's voice was low and grave. "Because no one—no one—has ever even thought about defeating him in this lifetime."
A heavy silence settled between them. Wick exhaled, glancing around at the unconscious bodies littering the ground. "For now, just go back to your hostel. I'll try to fix this mess if it's even possible."
Shristi hesitated but eventually nodded. As she turned to leave, Wick remained standing there, watching the night grow darker, knowing this was just the beginning of something far worse.
To Be Continued…