[Steel]

Late that evening, Madhuri sat in the living room, scrolling her main phone while Ramesh lazed on the recliner watching a boring debate. Abhi lingered nearby, pretending to read, darting his eyes.

She took a device from her handbag, laughed softly, typing fast, and he edged closer. Then he saw it, a second phone in her hand with a cracked screen, the one he used to play temple run with, tucked beside her on the couch.

His breath caught. "From when is mom reusing her old phone?"

He waited, heart pounding, until she stood, leaving it behind to grab water. He lunged, snatched it, swiping to Instagram, ShyVelvet, logged in, and saw a chat open with DevilzMask. He scanned fast, at the conversation they had, and saw an unsent draft waiting in the text box.

His hands shook. "It was her," he muttered, "playing him back." He snapped a photo of the screen, shoving the phone back as she returned, oblivious, humming again.

Ishaan's text came late, sharp and demanding: "What's taking you so long, you little schmuck."

Abhi fingers trembling as he typed: "Wait. I got it, it's her. ShyVelvet. She's the one messing with you." He sent the photo as a proof.

Across town, Ishaan froze, his phone lighting up his grin. "Holy fuck," he laughed, a low, wicked sound, running a hand through his hair.

"Crazy to think a dimwit's mom pulled that off! Your innocent little mommy's been hiding well." he sent to Abhi.

Abhi's reply came shaky: "Ishaan, this is all messed up. Why'd you make me do this? I didn't want to know this crap."

Ishaan: "Relax, dumbass. You did what I asked. She playing a game with me, but the ball is my court now, and you're gonna watch me win."

Ishaan leaned back, smirking. "Didn't think she had it in her. Guess she's not so boring after all."

Abhi held his head, the pull of this dark thrill was undeniable like a drug he couldn't quit.

But then the thought hit: "She'd kill me if she knew I'm behind this."

Upstairs that night, Madhuri smirked at her alt phone, finally sending that draft to DevilzMask: "Maybe I'm closer than you think, stalker. Guess me quick." A subtle jab tying back to his earlier taunt. She then proudly locked it away in her drawer.

She'd turned the tables, or so she thought. Across town, Ishaan's grin widened too. Her game. Her moves. And now, he held the strings. The mask was fully on now, grinning in the dark, ready to strike back.

(End of Chapter)