Inside Regal Club's private room, Arjun Desai leaned toward Robin Seth, his voice low and urgent. "Should we actively disrupt Aisha's bar?" he asked, his eyes sharp with underworld cunning. Robin's gaze was steel, his tone measured. "No," he said. "I've withdrawn my protection—let the underworld act on its own." His decision left Aisha's ventures exposed, his resolve unshaken.
In just few days, Word spread like wildfire through Hyderabad's shadows: Robin Seth no longer backed Aisha's bar. The Iron Syndicate, Black Lotus Crew, and Anna Brotherhood, sensing weakness, targeted the now-vulnerable establishment. Their leaders—Sameer "Danger" Khatri, Teja "Fighter" Palli, and Dinesh "Yeda" Choudhary—united, their greed fueled by the chance to exploit Aisha's loss.
The three underworld bosses stormed Aisha's upscale bar, a jewel of her non-tech ventures under the Horizon name. Their men drove out guests with shouts and shattered glass, chaos erupting as tables overturned and panic spread. Sameer's laugh echoed, his voice taunting. "No Robin to save you now," he sneered, the bar's neon glow flickering under the assault.
Aisha, reeling from losing Global Exports' liquor supply to Robin, staggered as the underworld invasion hit, the weight of her divorce crushing her. "How did it come to this?" she whispered, her voice trembling, her once-secure empire crumbling under the chaos Robin's absence unleashed.
Vikram Malhotra, overconfident, stepped beside Aisha, his voice brash. "I'll secure a new supplier and handle this," he said, his eyes gleaming with ambition. "I'll outshine Robin yet." His assurance, aimed at winning Aisha's favor, masked his underestimation of the underworld's ferocity.
Neha Kapoor, Aisha's loyal secretary, rushed forward, her face pale. "The new security team's useless without Arjun Desai," she reported, her voice urgent. "You need his help, Aisha." Aisha's eyes flashed with pride, her voice sharp. "Never," she snapped, refusing to beg Robin, her resolve blinding her to the bar's peril.
Vikram confronted the underworld bosses, puffing out his chest, banking on his Malhotra Group's status. "Back off," he demanded, his voice smug. "I represent Aisha." Sameer smirked, his tone mocking. "Fifteen Lakhs a month in protection fees—or we burn this place down." The bosses laughed, dismissing Vikram as a weak pretender.
Sameer stepped closer, his voice cutting. "Aisha picked a fool over Robin's dominance," he sneered, highlighting her poor choice in allies. "Robin kept us at bay—without him, you're nothing." His words stung, the underworld's disdain exposing Vikram's inadequacy and Aisha's misjudgment.
As Vikram tried to intimidate them, Sameer's hand shot out, choking him against the bar counter. "You're no Robin," he growled, Vikram's face reddening, his cowardice laid bare. Aisha rushed forward, her voice desperate. "Stop!" she pleaded, de-escalating to save Vikram, her authority crumbling under the pressure.
Aisha, disappointed in Vikram's failure, surveyed the wrecked bar, her heart sinking. The absence of Robin's protection had left her ventures vulnerable, the mounting losses a brutal reminder of her divorce's cost. As the underworld bosses laughed, her regret deepened, the storm Robin unleashed threatening to bury her empire.