Chapter 3 - Danger in the Air.
Something had changed.
And there was no turning back now.
Pari didn't pause to think. Her pulse still echoed in her ears from the fight on the rooftop. Without uttering a word, she lifted Veer, supporting most of his weight against her side. He was injured, semi-conscious perhaps, yet oddly still - like he was trying to process something far beyond just physical pain.
She didn't understand why she was acting this way. Why her instincts screamed to protect him, to get him away from danger. She barely knew him. And yet... here she was.
The hallway lights flickered as she half-dragged, half-carried him toward his room. Her breath was heavy, her muscles straining, but she didn't stop. Not until she reached his door - and suddenly froze.
She didn't have the key.
Awkward silence filled the space between them as she stood there, holding him upright, glaring at the door like it had personally wronged her. She was too flustered to speak, hoping he'd understand the situation on his own and hand her the key.
But Veer didn't move.
He remained leaned against her, one arm slung loosely around her shoulder for support, his body barely holding itself upright - and his eyes? Fixed on her.
That same look again. Quiet. Intense. Almost... thoughtful.
Pari's patience cracked.
"Are you going to do the kind honour of passing me the key to your room," she snapped, her tone laced with sarcasm and suppressed panic.
Veer blinked, as if yanked back from another dimension.
"Oh! Right... sorry, I mean-uh-you're..." he fumbled, his voice stumbling like his thoughts, making absolutely no sense.
Pari narrowed her eyes, her arms still bracing him awkwardly. "What are you trying to say?"
"I mean-just, wait a sec..." He began patting his pockets clumsily, still trying to gather his words - or maybe his mind - and finally pulled out the key card. "Here."
She took it from his hand, barely able to hold both him and the card, and pushed the door open. With one swift motion, she dropped him onto the couch like he was a sack of grain and tossed the key card onto the nearby table.
"There. Safe and sound," she muttered, more to herself than him.
Without another word, she turned on her boots, slammed the door shut behind her, and hurried back to her room.
The second she stepped inside, she leaned against the door, her chest rising and falling with a strange mix of exhaustion and something else - something she couldn't name.
Why was her heart racing?
"Was it because of the fight?" she whispered to herself, trying to steady her breath. "Because my identity almost got exposed?"
She forced out a dry, nervous laugh.
"Of course. That's all it was. Just nerves."
But deep down, she knew better.
That moment... that one fleeting second of eye contact on the rooftop... something had stirred in her. Something unsettling. Something warm. Something reckless.
"Nope. Not going there," she said aloud, shaking her head vigorously and pacing the room like a caged animal.
She tried to shake it off - that feeling - but it clung to her like smoke. Dangerous, confusing smoke.
Meanwhile, in Veer's Room...
Veer hadn't moved from where she'd left him. He stared at the door for a long time, still feeling the weight of her presence in the room, the heat of her touch on his skin, the echo of that strange connection between them.
She had looked at him like she saw more than just a stranger. And he had looked back - and remembered a flicker of a memory, something far away. A familiar face. A distant past?
What the hell just happened?
The lock beeped.
The door swung open and Zain stepped in, breathless and frustrated, his shirt torn, blood on his temple, but eyes scanning the room immediately for Veer.
"Veer!" he rushed over. "Shit-are you okay?"
Veer gave him a slow nod, still lost in thought.
Zain helped him to sit upright. "I chased them. Those guys on the rooftop. But they got away."
His voice was tight, filled with disappointment and guilt. "I'm sorry. I should've stayed closer. I didn't know there were more of them..."
Veer waved him off weakly. "It's not your fault, Zain."
"But-"
"No, listen," Veer said firmly, his eyes now sharp and focused again. "Even I don't understand what just happened. Who were they? Why attack us here - in a hotel? In public? Our location was confidential."
Zain nodded, wiping a streak of blood from his brow.
"Unless..." Veer's voice lowered. "Someone leaked it."
The thought was chilling. They were supposed to be shadows - ghosts, not targets.
"None of this makes sense," he muttered. "Who are we even dealing with?"
Zain sat beside him, silent, both men deep in thought.
Unspoken between them was a name neither of them dared say just yet.
But in Veer's mind, one face kept returning.
Pari Shah.
Veer's mind slipped into a flashback.
Earlier That Morning
The day had begun like any other. Sunlight filtered lazily through the hotel blinds as Veer stood adjusting his blazer, his expression unreadable in the mirror. Zain stood behind him, finishing the last buttons of his shirt, looking considerably more casual - though his brow was furrowed with concern.
"You sure about this?" Zain asked, slinging on his watch. "We're going to ask for the land owner's address. But what if he says no?"
Veer didn't even look at him. "Who said we're just going to ask?"
Zain blinked. "Wait. What?"
Veer turned, his voice cool and sharp. "Talking won't be enough. My methods... differ."
Zain's jaw dropped. "Wow. Sir... calm down. You do know this isn't LA, right? You can't just go all undercover-Mafia here. It's Mumbai. Chill."
Veer gave him a look that could shatter glass.
Zain raised his hands in surrender, still smirking. "Okay, okay. We'll try talking first. But if that doesn't work... I'll pretend I didn't hear anything."
Then, with a teasing glint in his eye, he added, "Honestly, you should've shown this fire yesterday too. Especially in front of her."
Veer shot him a death glare.
"Mr. Secretary," he said through gritted teeth, "have you forgotten you're speaking to your boss?"
Zain stiffened, muttering under his breath, "Always with the boss card..."
They headed down to the hotel parking area and got into a sleek black SUV - the one Veer had arranged for his stay in India. As they drove through the city streets, the buzz of traffic was interrupted when Veer suddenly leaned forward.
"Stop the car."
Zain looked confused. "What happened?"
"I need water. Get it from that shop." Veer pointed to a roadside stall.
"We can get it after we reach-"
"I said stop. Listen to your boss."
Grinding his teeth, Zain muttered, "Yes, sir..." and pulled over.
As Zain walked away, Veer's gaze locked onto a quiet alley across the road. His entire body tensed.
This place...
Fifteen years. It had been fifteen years since he'd last seen this part of the city - and he had never imagined he'd come back. Ghosts of a past he had buried began clawing at the surface. His eyes stung. He blinked rapidly.
Zain returned, handing him the bottle. "Here. Your precious water, sir."
Veer took it silently, drinking without a word - the water mixing with unshed tears he refused to let fall.
They arrived at a quiet corner of Mumbai where the address led them - an old, run-down restaurant, its faded signage barely hanging on, the paint chipped, the windows dusty. It didn't look like it had many customers, or life left in it.
"This is it?" Zain asked, eyebrows raised.
"Apparently."
They stepped inside.
Immediately, all heads turned. The workers - a mix of anxious servers and overly attentive kitchen staff - seemed to freeze for a moment... then erupted into frantic action.
"Welcome, welcome, sir!" a server chirped.
"Please take a seat!"
"We've been expecting you!"
"Wait, what?" Veer tried to speak, but he and Zain were already being dragged to a table, menus slapped in their hands, drinks poured before they could protest.
One overly cheerful chef approached with a nervous smile. "Sir, please try our food. We heard the association sent someone after that nasty complaint. It must be a mistake. Please don't shut us down!"
Veer and Zain exchanged bewildered glances.
"Food association? What are you talking about?"
But no one listened. Dishes were brought out in a rush. Appetizers, entrees, desserts - all in one go.
One female worker leaned in and whispered with false sweetness, "You know, sir... I think those other people made that complaint to harm us. Bad intentions, clearly. We're honest workers."
Veer had had enough.
"Wait! STOP TALKING!" he thundered.
The restaurant froze mid-motion. Forks dropped. Someone gasped.
"Who the hell do you think we are?"
The chef blinked. "Aren't you the manager from the food board?"
"NO! We're not!" Veer barked. "We came here to speak to the owner. That's it. Nothing else!"
A deadly silence fell over the room.
Then, an explosion of outrage.
"What? Why didn't you say so earlier?!"
"You let us embarrass ourselves!"
"Why didn't you let us speak?!" Veer shot back, frustrated. "Now answer the question. Where is your owner?"
An awkward pause. Then, a young employee hesitantly said, "He's out of town... business trip."
Before he could finish, others jumped in.
"Why did you tell them?!"
"You idiot!"
Zain grabbed Veer's arm. "Let's go. This is about to turn into a Bollywood food fight."
They left the restaurant quickly, escaping before another scene unfolded outside.
Standing on the pavement, Zain sighed. "Now what?"
"We wait," Veer replied. "And dig from other sources."
Later that evening, just as they were about to enter the hotel, Veer's eyes narrowed. Something in the bushes - movement.
"Zain. Left. Now."
Without question, Zain followed as Veer sprinted after the shadowy figure slinking around the hotel premises.
They chased him into the underground parking lot. Veer caught one - slammed him against the wall, hand gripping his collar.
"Who are you?! Why are you following me?"
A second figure appeared and attacked from behind. Chaos erupted. Punches flew. Zain grappled with another intruder. The men tried to break free and ran upstairs.
One of them slammed a button on the wall.
The fire alarm blared.
Sprinklers triggered. Hotel guests screamed and poured into the hallways.
It was a distraction - meant to help them escape.
Veer bolted up the stairs after them. Zain followed.
That was the moment everything spiraled - the rooftop fight, the mistaken identity with Pari, the way everything led to her...
Back to Present - Late Night
Veer lay in bed, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. His mind raced.
None of this made sense.
He didn't know who they were. Why they attacked. Why he was being watched. Or why fate kept circling him back to that girl.
And why... he cared.
Across the Hall - Pari's Room
Pari sat by the window, staring at the moonlit skyline. She had forgotten for a brief moment everything that had happened - the fire alarm, the rooftop fight, even her decision to leave.
But only for a moment.
Her thoughts kept returning to him.
That look in his eyes.
Something wasn't right.
Same Time - Los Angeles
A dark room. A lone figure stood facing a digital monitor. His voice was firm, dangerous.
"Who gave them permission to engage?"
He turned sharply, eyes burning. The manager before him trembled.
"S-sir... they were spotted. Veer caught them. They had no choice-"
The man slammed the desk, then shoved him backwards.
"You were told to watch. Nothing more. I said no contact until I give the order. It's not time to kill them yet."
"I understand... it won't happen again."
"You'd better pray it doesn't," he whispered coldly.
He turned back to the screen, a shadowy smirk crossing his face.
Then, stamping a file with red ink, he snarled:
"I won't let you live, Veer Singhania."
A strange heaviness hung in the air, thick and suffocating - the kind that whispers of storms before they arrive. Veer could feel it clawing at his skin, an unexplainable pressure building in his chest like a silent scream echoing from the future. Every instinct honed by years of danger was now on high alert, screaming that something was coming. Something big. Something dark.
It wasn't just a feeling - it was a premonition. Like his bones remembered a war his mind hadn't yet fought.
And across the hall, Pari felt it too.
She stood still by the window, her hands trembling slightly, breath shallow, as if the night itself was warning her. The world outside was too quiet, the kind of quiet that wasn't peaceful - but waiting. Her heart pounded like a distant drumbeat from a battlefield that hadn't yet revealed itself. She didn't know what was coming. Only that it was coming for her.
Both of them, in their separate rooms, worlds apart yet fatefully entangled, felt it in their very blood - the unmistakable weight of a storm on the horizon.
And it was no ordinary storm.
It was war in disguise.