Chapter 2 - The Meeting of Two
"Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!!"
A loud scream pierced the calm of the luxurious hotel suite.
Veer turned sharply, muscles tensing, only to see a girl standing in the middle of the room, equally stunned. For a brief second, a face from his past flickered in his memory-haunting, familiar-but he dismissed it.
"You?!" he exclaimed, confusion etched into every line of his face.
He narrowed his eyes. "What the hell is going on here? Who are you? And why are you in my room?"
Still recovering from the shock but unwilling to back down, the girl straightened her spine. Her voice was calm, clear, and laced with ice. "That's exactly what I was about to ask you."
Their gazes locked. The air thickened with the weight of confusion and something else-recognition, maybe even destiny.
Pari narrowed her eyes, scanning his face. Then her breath caught.
That face... no way. It's him. This is too much of a coincidence.
Pari Shah never forgot a face. Especially not one like his.
From the room inside, Zain rushed out, having heard the commotion. His eyes landed on Pari and instantly hardened.
"What the hell is going on?!" Zain demanded, stepping protectively in front of Veer. "You need to leave. Now. You've clearly walked into the wrong room."
Pari remained cool and composed. "Wrong room? I don't think so." She glanced at Veer, her eyes sharp. "In fact-"
"I said get out!" Zain barked, tone rising.
But Pari simply smiled, sharp as a blade. "Oh? Planning to call the police? Please do. I'll wait. And while you're at it, perhaps I should file for trespassing... and indecent exposure."
Veer blinked-only now realizing he was wearing nothing but a towel. His cheeks flushed instantly.
Pari folded her arms, her expression unreadable. "I entered with a key. My key. If you want to involve the authorities, I'd be more than happy to assist. Let's see how they react to your version of hospitality."
Zain looked at Veer. Veer looked back at Zain. And slowly, doubt crept in.
Pari coolly held up a key card. "This room is registered under my name. So unless you're professional scammers, I'd say the hotel made a mistake."
Veer's irritation faded as logic returned. He nodded. "She's right. We should take this downstairs."
He turned to leave when Pari raised an eyebrow. "Don't you think you should get dressed first? Or are you planning to parade through the lobby in a towel?"
Zain stifled a laugh. Veer shot both of them a deadly glare. "I'll change. Both of you-out."
Pari smirked and gestured toward the dressing room. "Right there. Or did you forget how suites work?"
Red-faced, Veer stormed into the changing area, muttering curses under his breath.
Outside, Zain gave Pari a wary look.
She rolled her eyes. "Don't look at me like that. Your friend's the one running a towel show."
Zain couldn't help it-he chuckled. "He's not usually like this."
Once dressed, the three of them headed to the front desk. Zain briskly explained the situation, the staff growing more nervous by the second.
"We'll get the manager immediately," a receptionist said.
Moments later, the manager arrived. "May I confirm the name on Room 1507?"
A staff member scanned the system. "Room 1507 is registered to Ms. Pari Shah."
Pari raised her hand calmly. "That's me."
Veer blinked. He turned sharply to Zain. "Then what room did you book?"
Zain looked genuinely confused. "I... I don't know. I was given that key at check-in."
A junior staffer stepped forward, guilt written across his face. "Sir, you were originally booked in Room 1508. But the previous guest hadn't checked out. I thought Room 1507 was vacant, so I gave you that key temporarily."
Pari's voice was ice-cold. "Because I hadn't checked in yet, you assumed you could just hand over my room?"
The manager glared at the junior employee. "You should have reported this. Immediately."
"I'm truly sorry, ma'am. Sir," the boy mumbled.
Pari tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with practiced elegance. "Just make sure it never happens again."
Veer looked at her with something new in his eyes-curiosity. There was something about her. Something impossible to ignore.
As they walked toward the elevators, Veer stole a glance at her, clearly wanting to say something.
Inside the elevator, Pari turned. "If you have something to say, say it now. Before I change my mind about acknowledging you."
Zain looked uncomfortable, sensing the strange energy between them.
Veer exhaled. "I already unpacked. I didn't know it was your room."
Pari didn't hesitate. "Don't worry. I'll take yours instead. They're identical. I've already told the staff to switch."
Veer opened his mouth in surprise, but Pari cut him off. "Don't get the wrong idea. I'm not doing this for you. I just don't like wasting time. Besides," she added with a sly smile, "I'd rather not sleep in a room where someone's been strutting around in a towel."
But behind her biting remark was a small, quiet kindness.
Later That Night
Pari sat at the edge of her bed, lost in thought. Everything about that encounter-it felt too orchestrated. Too deliberate.
She told herself to shake it off. To move on. But she couldn't.
In the room next door, Veer groaned, face buried in a pillow. Of all the ways to meet someone-that had to be it?
The Next Morning
Pari, ever composed, dressed sharply in a formal navy-blue suit and crisp white shirt. She had a meeting with the manager of her father's Hotel -though technically, she was the manager. The heir. The silent power behind it all.
No one in India knew her identity. She preferred it that way.
But when she arrived at the Hotel's company headquarters and asked to meet Sharan Gupta, the acting manager, the receptionist gave her a tight smile.
"I'm sorry, ma'am. You need an appointment."
Pari's patience snapped. She pulled out her phone, ready to call Mr. Lee in Korea to end this farce-when the lobby doors opened.
Sharan Gupta entered mid-conversation with a foreign investor. The moment he saw her, he froze mid-step.
His face drained of color.
Pari Shah?
She gave a curt nod.
Recovering quickly, Sharan turned to the staff. "This woman is a VIP. Give her unrestricted access to my office. Immediately."
The staff parted like the Red Sea.
Inside the office, he offered her water. She declined. "I'm not here for pleasantries. You called me to India. About an emergency. So talk."
Sharan looked stunned. "Ma'am, I never sent such a message. I merely coordinated with Mr. Lee for some upcoming strategies."
Pari's voice dropped. "You didn't call me back here?"
He shook his head. "No."
Everything inside her turned cold.
She called Mr. Lee. "Did you lie to me?" she demanded.
There was a pause.
"Yes," he said softly. "I had to. You wouldn't have come otherwise."
Her voice cracked, furious. "Why?"
"I needed you to meet Sharma Sir," he said gently. "He needs you. And you need him too, even if you don't see it yet."
Pari's chest tightened.
Sharma Sir.
Her father's closest friend. A second father to her. And the head of India's most elite RAW unit. The only man in India she still called family.
Mr. Lee continued, "He's always believed in you, Pari. You belong in this work. And we both know it."
But she was done listening.
"You lied to me," she whispered. "You knew what India means to me."
She left the building without another word, storming straight to the hotel.
She packed her bags. Furious. Betrayed.
Until-
Ding-dong!
The doorbell rang. She yanked it open, still seething.
A guest and hotel staff stood outside, wide-eyed. "Didn't you hear the fire alarm? Ma'am, we've been ringing everyone's door!"
Pari blinked. Confused. "What fire-?"
The corridor buzzed with chaos. Guests were running. Some in slippers, others wrapped in blankets. Everyone was headed for the lobby.
She dropped her luggage and followed.
As she descended the stairs, something caught her attention-movement.
Zain.
Wounded. Disheveled. Sweating.
But he wasn't going down.
He was rushing upstairs.
Toward the terrace.
And he was alone.
Pari's instincts kicked in.
Something wasn't right.
Silently, she followed him.
Unseen.
Unheard.
Hiding behind a pillar as Zain disappeared onto the rooftop, her heart pounded.
What the hell was going on?
And why did it feel like everything she thought she knew was about to unravel?
Pari's mind whirled with confusion as she climbed the shadowy staircase, each footfall echoing her turmoil. She reached the rooftop, heart pounding, and was instantly struck by a horrifying sight.
Weapons-knives, iron rods, broken glass-were scattered across the floor, glinting ominously in the weak city light. The air crackled with tension, thick and suffocating.
She pressed herself against a crumbling wall and peered further. In the middle of the chaos, a savage brawl raged: three muscular gangsters, armed and vicious, faced off against two desperately outnumbered figures.
Her breath caught as recognition hit-one of the fighters, defiant and battered, was Veer. Another, barely holding his ground, was Zain.
Pari's first instinct was to rush in-she could never stand aside when violence was unfolding, especially not when someone she cared about was in danger.
But hesitation prickled at her skin. She had to be careful. With her covert background, any mistake in India could spell catastrophe. Her reputation-and her freedom-were always at risk.
She drew in a shaky breath, forcing her instinct to obey reason. But, watching Veer dodging a wild slash, fury blazed inside her.
This was her element. With new resolve, Pari darted forward, snatching a rusty iron rod from a pile of abandoned junk. She tied her hair back-her trademark signal that she was ready for combat-and stepped out into the grimy light.
With practiced swagger, she strode right into the eye of the chaos and shouted, "Hey! Lovely crowd tonight, huh? Mind telling me what in hell's name you're up to?" She shot Veer a pointed glance, smirking wickedly as she dragged the rod across the concrete, sparks flickering from its tip.
The gangsters paused, thrown off by her sudden entrance and swagger. For a wild second, they wondered if she was one of their own. Then, with snarls and crude curses, they lunged at her.
Pari spun into action. The rod whistled through the air, colliding with brute forearms. She twisted, ducked, and parried, her movements sharp and fluid, a choreography she'd perfected over years.
The fight surged around her-a blur of fists, shouts, and metallic clangs. She felt her muscles straining, exhaustion nipping at her heels, but she kept moving, deflecting blows with ruthless efficiency.
Halfway through the scuffle, she shot an exasperated glare at Veer and Zain, who were frozen in place, gaping at her skills like she'd stepped out of a legend. "Are you two out of your minds?" she snapped, not pausing her assault. "Do you want popcorn, or do you plan to help?"
Veer blinked, shaken back to life. "Sorry! It's just-," he stammered, ducking a wild punch and slamming his fist into a gangster's gut.
The shock of seeing Pari fight with such ferocity unsettled him; the scene felt eerily familiar, as if history was repeating itself in the worst possible way.
Now rallied, Veer and Zain joined her, their bodies bruised but spirits fierce. Together, the three fought back-to-back.
Then, disaster struck.
In the edge of her vision, Pari glimpsed movement in the darkness: one of the thugs, knife raised high, creeping behind her. Before she could react, Veer threw himself into the path of the blade. The steel sunk deep into his arm, blood bursting in a dark stream.
Veer gasped, stumbling, but stayed upright, his presence shielding Pari from the fatal blow. The sight fueled her fury. With a savage cry, she slammed the rod into the attacker's jaw, sending him sprawling.
Pari spun around just in time to catch him as he fell.
The remaining gangsters, rattled by her ferocity and Veer's sacrifice, scattered into the night. Zain chased after them, but they melted into the labyrinth of rooftops and vanished into the darkness.
Veer, now pale and shaking, collapsed to his knees. Blood pooled rapidly from his wounded arm.
Panic threatened to overwhelm Pari, but her hands moved automatically. She knelt beside Veer, untying her scarf and winding it tightly around his bicep. Blood seeped into the fabric, staining her trembling hands. Without a word, she met his gaze.
For a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of them-eyes shining with unspoken words, breaths shallow in the electric silence. In that suspended heartbeat, everything changed.
Their eyes locked, and for a fleeting second, the chaos around them faded into silence. It was as if time itself had paused, holding its breath for whatever was about to unfold between them.
Pari felt a strange pull in her chest-a sensation she couldn't quite explain. Her hands, cold from the night air and adrenaline, trembled slightly.
But when Veer's gaze dropped to them, he didn't see the chill. Instead, when his fingers brushed against hers, they felt inexplicably warm to him-like the calm in the middle of a storm.
Veer stiffened for a moment.
He had faced danger, betrayal, and countless missions that had pushed him to the edge, but this-this unfamiliar wave rushing through his body-was something he had never experienced before. A quiet intensity stirred within him, making his heartbeat echo louder in his ears.
It wasn't just attraction. It was something deeper... something unnerving. A connection so sudden, so raw, it threatened to shake the guarded walls he had built around himself over the years.
Pari, too, felt it-the unspoken electricity crackling between them.
She didn't know what it meant or where it would lead, but in that moment, standing face-to-face with a man who had been a mystery until now, she knew one thing for certain.
Something had changed.
And there was no turning back.