The room was dim, curtains half-drawn, the faint sound of crows outside breaking the silence of dawn. Veer's eyes fluttered open. For a moment, he lay still, staring at the ceiling, his mind refusing to let him drift back into the comfort of sleep.
Yesterday's meeting came rushing back — Radhe's sharp stare, Jatin's nervous doubt, Raja's steady silence. The weight of their words hadn't left him.
Veer turned onto his side, rubbing a hand over his face. A whisper slipped from his lips, meant only for himself.
"Two days… two days, then the plan will be set in motion."
The number rang in his head like a ticking clock. Two days until Jatin would walk into Arjun's den with bait on his tongue. Two days until Radhe's chance to step in as Dilip's savior. Two days until the city's underworld turned on itself — if everything went as planned.
But plans rarely survived contact with men like Dilip Topi or Arjun. Veer knew that better than anyone.
He sat up, glancing at the small desk by the window. His notebook lay open, pages filled with his messy scrawls — arrows, names, routes, timings. It looked more like a puzzle than a plan, and maybe that's what it was. A puzzle where one wrong move could cost him everything.
Outside, the city was waking. Vendors calling out, bicycles rattling on uneven roads, the salty air of the sea drifting faintly into the room. A normal Monday for everyone else. For him, it was the calm before the storm.
"Two days…" he repeated, steadying his breathing.
This wasn't just about Dilip or Arjun anymore. It was about survival — his, Raja's, Munni's. And maybe, just maybe, about carving a place in this dangerous city where he wasn't always prey.
.................
The neighborhood was the kind people avoided after dark. Crumbling buildings leaned into each other like drunks too tired to stand, their walls stained with decades of neglect. Rusted shutters clanged in the salty sea breeze, while stray dogs fought over scraps in narrow alleys. It smelled of sweat, cheap liquor, and iron — the smell of forgotten men.
Jatin walked through it with a thug's swagger, his two boys trailing just close enough to remind strangers not to stare too long. But inside, his chest was tight. This wasn't his ground. This was Arjun's den, and in places like these, even shadows had ears.
He found them where he expected — a shuttered garage at the end of a dead street. The paint had peeled off years ago, revealing the corroded bones of the metal. Two men with shotguns leaned by the door, eyeing Jatin like he was already half-dead.
"I'm here for Arjun," Jatin said flatly, lighting a cigarette with steady hands he didn't actually feel.
One guard sneered, tapping the barrel of his gun against his palm. The other disappeared inside. Moments later, the door scraped open and Jatin was waved in.
Inside, the garage had been gutted into a lair. A single bulb swung from the ceiling, casting a sickly yellow glow. Broken cars were shoved against the walls, their carcasses stripped for parts. In the center sat Arjun, broad-shouldered, his shirt open at the chest, tattoos like scars of another life. Around him, a half-circle of his men smoked, laughed, and sharpened blades.
Arjun's eyes, cold and unreadable, flicked to Jatin.
"You brought me something, or you're wasting my time?"
Jatin exhaled smoke, forcing a grin. "Always business with you, Arjun bhai. That's why you're sitting here and the others are either dead or broke."
A few of the men chuckled, but Arjun didn't. His stare hardened, waiting.
Jatin stepped closer, lowering his voice like he was about to share something poisonous.
"I've got a truck for you. Not just any truck — Dilip Topi's truck."
The air shifted. Even laughter stopped. Arjun leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
"Go on."
Jatin flicked ash to the floor. "Topi's sending a consignment down the coast. Packed, guarded, moving tight. But here's the thing—" he smirked, "—I make a living sniffing out holes in walls people think are solid. I collect info, I sell it, that's my game. No loyalty, just profit."
Arjun's lip curled. "And you're telling me this… why?"
"Because this one's too sweet to let rot. I can't touch it myself, too heavy. But you? You've got the muscle. You've got the reputation. And I'd rather see Dilip bleed than see him get fatter."
Arjun leaned back, studying him. "Where?"
"The rally road," Jatin said, his voice dropping lower, as though each word was a gamble. "Two days from now, his truck and a political rally will cross paths. He thinks it's perfect cover — too many eyes, too much noise for anyone to make a move. But he's wrong. It's his weakest circle."
Arjun's brow furrowed, so Jatin explained, slow and precise, like a man cutting open a map.
"The truck's got two of his most trusted drivers. Three escort cars, one in front, two behind. Every few kilometers, his boys report in, make sure the snake knows where its head is. But when the truck hits the rally stretch, the police presence is heavy. Cops everywhere. His cars can't move, can't breathe. His men will be frozen, afraid to draw attention."
Arjun's men muttered among themselves, some nodding. Jatin pressed on.
"That's where you slide in. Quiet. Nobody's expecting a move there because everyone's staring at the rally. You take the truck, vanish before anyone even understands what's happened. By the time Dilip hears, it'll be too late. And trust me — he'll choke on the fact it happened in front of his own men."
For the first time, Arjun smiled. It wasn't warmth — it was the smile of a wolf who'd caught the scent of blood.
"You talk good," Arjun said softly. "But if this is a setup, I'll carve you slow. You understand?"
Jatin met his eyes, forcing himself not to blink. "If it's a setup, I'm dead either way. That should tell you enough about how real this is."
Arjun chuckled darkly, signaling to one of his men. "Feed him. Let him drink. For now, he's a friend."
Jatin let the grin stay on his face, but inside, he was already drowning. He had done his part. Now, all that was left was to pray Veer's plan held, because one misstep here wouldn't just kill him — it would bury them all.