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At Yunah's apartment, she and her younger brother, Yogesh, were knee-deep in cardboard chaos. Boxes cluttered the living room, stacked unevenly, some spilling clothes from their half-open lids. Yunah dragged her suitcase out of her room with a grunt and let out a heavy sigh, glaring at the mountain of packed boxes as though it had personally offended her.
"Holy cow… how are we supposed to get all of this down to the parking lot?" she groaned, already drained at the thought of carrying them.
"I told you to hire movers," Yogesh muttered, hefting two boxes at once and balancing them against his chest. "But no—you wanted to save money. Now deal with it." He staggered toward the open door.
Just as he reached the threshold, several bulky men loomed in front of him, blocking the way. They wore uniforms stamped with the logo of a movers-and-packers company, but their builds, tattoos, and hard stares screamed gangster more than deliverymen.
Yunah froze for a beat before striding forward, tugging Yogesh behind her. Confusion flickered across her face, edged with unease. "Excuse me… I think you've got the wrong place. I didn't hire anyone." Her voice was steady, but her hand clenched tightly around her brother's wrist.
"You're Miss Yunah, right?" one of them asked, his deep voice carrying an unnatural coldness. A snake tattoo coiled across his neck, disappearing beneath the collar of his uniform.
"Y-yes…" Yunah stammered, heart kicking against her ribs. She had no idea who they were or why they were here—but one thing was clear. If they tried anything, she wasn't going to let them touch Yogesh.
Another man brushed past her and pried the boxes out of Yogesh's arms with insulting ease. "Then this is the right place. We were hired by Noah. He paid us for the whole day, told us to help you too."
"Noah?" Yunah narrowed her eyes, suspicion sharpening her tone. "Then where is he?"
"He's sick," the tattooed man replied smoothly. His gaze swept over Yunah in a way that made her skin crawl. "We already moved his stuff into the apartment. He said to come here after. If you don't believe us, then just give him a call."
Yunah's pulse quickened. Something about these men felt off—too rough, too watchful. Still, she pulled out her phone and stepped aside, dialing Noah's number.
After several long rings, his voice came through, faint and weak. "Hello, Di…"
Concern etched instantly across her face. "What happened? You sound awful."
On the other end, Noah coughed hard. "Y-yeah… I caught a cold. Fever too. So, I can't be able to move today, but I already sent my things to the apartment. Did the movers arrived? I told them to help you too…" His voice cracked into another cough, ragged and convincing.
Yunah glanced at the men crowding her doorway, her suspicion warring with concern. "Yes, they're here. You didn't have to do this, Noah. But still… thank you." Her voice softened, unconsciously gentle. "Take care of yourself, hmm? Don't forget to take your medicine on time."
"Hmmm…" Noah hummed back weakly.
"Alright. I'll call you later, after I finish with everything," she murmured, then hung up and slid her phone into her pocket.
Yunah turned back to the men—her expression hardened. "You can start. I've confirmed it."
At her word, they filed in like soldiers. In pairs, they hauled out stacks of four, even five boxes at a time, their muscles straining but steady. The apartment seemed to empty itself in minutes.
Yogesh's jaw dropped as he watched them. "They're… seriously strong," he muttered, his eyes following one man who balanced a tower of boxes like it weighed nothing. He shot his sister a crooked grin. "You know what? Maybe letting Noah stay with us wasn't such a bad idea after all."
Yunah chuckled softly, shaking her head—but her eyes stayed on the tattooed man just a second longer, unease curling in her stomach.
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While Yunah and Yogesh wrestled with boxes, Noah was preparing for a different kind of move—one that had nothing to do with apartments.
He had lied to Yunah about being ill. His rasp, his cough, the weak edge in his tone—it had all been rehearsed. She believed him. She always did when he wanted her to. And why not too, who would have even imagined that the eighteenth year old boy is the boss of top underworld gang of the country.
Now that boy, who always acts weak and innocent infront of Yunah, sat at the head of a long oak table, not in pajamas with a fever, but in a dark shirt, his aura sharp and commanding. The room smelled faintly of gun oil and coffee. Around him, his men sat like loyal soldiers. Beside him, his friend Ivan twisted a Rubik's cube, the clicks echoing in the silence until the final side snapped into place.
Noah leaned forward, fingers laced together, his voice low and lethal."So. They think they can run drugs through my streets after my warning? Eagle's Claw is testing me."
"They're not just dealing," Ivan added, setting the cube down with a decisive clack. His tone was cold. "They're selling to students. And worse—girls have gone missing. Ten, maybe more. High school and college girls."
The air in the room tightened as Noah's jaw clenched. His words fell like knives. "Who's running the shipments?"
Ashish Sharma, his right hand man, swallowed hard before answering. "It's Umesh Dhakal. He owns one of the biggest pubs and casinos in the city." He handed him the file along with pictures where Umesh was making a deal in the port with the unknown member of Eagle's claw.
Noah let out a bitter laugh that carried no amusement."Umesh?." He looked at the picture where the face of the member of the Eagle's claw was not captured well, then continued "I don't think he alone can do this deals. I think he's just a puppet. There's someone else—someone bigger—pulling the strings. Hiding behind money and power."
Ivan leaned back, eyes sharp. "I'd bet politics is involved. Power always needs money."
"We'll know tonight," Noah said shutting the file, rising from his chair. Light caught the silver of his rings as he straightened to his full height. The menace in him filled the room."It's time to burn the puppet and drag out the hand behind him. No one poisons my streets. No one vanishes girls from under my watch. Whoever defies me will learn my law is absolute."
Ashish bowed his head. "Your orders, Young Master?"
Noah's lips curled into something dark. "No mercy. Track everything—his contacts, his meetings, past and present. Bring it all to me."
"Yes, Young Master."
Noah picked up his cup, sipped slowly, then set it down with deliberate calm. His words came out soft but deadly. "That bastard thinks he can run his business in my city. I'll make him beg for death before I let him breathe easy again."
The men exchanged looks—no fear, only silent allegiance. Noah sat back like a king on his throne, his composure folding neatly over the storm inside.
"We move tonight," he said finally. "We take Umesh down in his own den. And let his masters understand that no matter where they hide… they are never beyond my reach."