The Tycoon's Odyssey

Mithal's control over the family and his manipulative tactics had left Jason seething with hatred. Yet, Jason knew he couldn't act in spite of his rage…not until the time was right. He needed full control of the Mahajan empire before he could dispose of Mithal.

Jason's lips curled into a bitter smile as he muttered under his breath, "Haa... I wish you two wouldn't make things difficult for me. We don't even need to fight if you just make me the heir and finish things."

As if an answer to his thoughts, his phone lying on the table buzzed. Jason's fingers paused mid-twirl before he picked it up and glanced at the screen, his expression unreadable as tried to answer the call.

Jason frowned upon seeing the unfamiliar number flashing on his phone. With a measured calm, he answered, his voice steady.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Who is this?"

A cheery, almost mocking voice replied, "Yo, buddy! I hope you're doing well."

Continue your journey on empire

Jason's expression didn't change. "And you are?"

"Don't be so suspicious, Jason," the voice continued with a chuckle. "This is a call from the family. Let's just say, I wanted to let you know of something very important."

Jason leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. "Important? Just get to the point."

The voice on the other side dropped its playful edge, turning sharp and threatening. "Your father, Mithal, is with me. If you want him safe, you'll come to the location I send you. Or else…" The voice trailed off, leaving the threat hanging.

Jason didn't flinch. "Or else what?" he asked, his tone devoid of emotion.

"Or else, you'll have to find someone else to call 'Father.'"

There was a pause, as though the caller expected a reaction, some sign of fear or panic. But Jason remained calm, his mind already working through the implications.

"Fine," Jason said evenly. "Send me the location."

The caller hesitated, seemingly caught off guard by Jason's composure. "You're awfully calm for someone in this situation. Don't think you can outsmart me, Jason. I'll be watching your every move."

Jason smirked faintly, though his voice remained neutral. "And I'll be watching yours. Anything else?"

A sharp exhale came from the caller. "You've got nerve, I'll give you that. But don't test my patience. I'll send the details soon."

And with that, the line went dead.

_____

Meanwhile, after cutting the call.

On the other end, Evan set the phone down and leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. His eyes flicked toward Mac, who stood silently nearby.

"He's got a solid mentality," Evan remarked, his tone laced with a hint of admiration. "Truly worthy of being your son—to hold his composure like that."

Mac remained silent, his gaze fixed on the ragged, broken figure slumped in the corner of the room. The man's clothes were torn, his face bruised, and his spirit seemingly crushed.

Evan's smile widened as he observed Mithal. "Do you think he'll come, Mac? Or will he send someone else to clean up his place?"

Mac finally spoke, his voice low and gravelly. "He'll come. He doesn't trust anyone else to handle this. Besides…" Mac's gaze hardened. "Jason has always been calculating, but he's not foolish or reckless. He knows this isn't just about Mithal."

Evan nodded thoughtfully. "Indeed. Let's see how he will deal with this."

Rising from his chair, Evan walked over to Mithal, crouching down to meet his gaze. His voice dripped with mockery. "Your son is impressive," he sneered. "But don't worry, old man. We'll make sure he understands the cost of power."

Mithal didn't respond, his eyes filled with a mixture of rage and defeat. Evan straightened, turning back to Mac.

"Prepare everything," he ordered. "Let's make sure that Jason gets a welcome he will never forget."

_____

The VIP golf club radiated luxury, its pristine greens and expansive lounge a testament to wealth and exclusivity. Yet today, an air of unease hung in the entire premises like a storm cloud, this was the place where the caller had asked for Jason to come.

Jason, flanked by his guards, stepped out of his car and took in the scene ahead. The lounge had been booked in its entirety, but his attention was focused on the rows of imposing people standing on guard. Tall figures with sharp eyes lined the entrance, their stances rigid and alert, emanating an almost tangible pressure, a silent warning to anyone who dared to approach them unprepared.

Jason's chief security officer leaned in, his voice a low murmur, "Sir, this might be a trap. We should reconsider walking into it."

Another guard added nervously, "Yes, sir. Look at them. Their eyes… They're like predators who've tasted blood."

Jason halted briefly, his sharp gaze sweeping over the intimidating crowd before he responded firmly. "No. The news of me being here is already out. If anything happens to me, it'll create waves everywhere."

Though hesitant, the guards exchanged glances and nodded as Jason strode forward with calm resolve.

As soon as Jason stepped into the dimly lit lounge, his sharp eyes fell on Mithal Mahajan.

_____

Inside the dimly lit lounge, Jason's composure momentarily faltered as he took in the sight. Sitting casually in one of the plush chairs was Evan, exuding an air of cold authority. At his feet lay Mithal Mahajan, his hand and foot tied, his body battered and broken, reduced to a bruised state, his face pale and his breathing labored.

Mithal's bruised face was streaked with blood and sweat, his eyes wide with fear and desperation. A thick gag muffled his frantic screams, but it couldn't hide the unmistakable terror in his muffled cries.

Jason's eyes widened briefly, but he quickly schooled his expression, stepping forward with practiced calm.

'How did he mess this up and how did Evan appear here?' he thought.

From what Jason knew, Evan was supposed to be lying low in the Andaman and Nicobar Islands, living a quiet life with his foster parents, so Evan's presence here came as a surprise and also the fact that he was the one who had called him.