The entrance of the club now screamed the name as well devila pearl
Malisha quietly took the hand with a roll of her eyes of Aryan who offered it with a smirk
The whole crew from survivors to the team had no Idea or rather didn't want to have any idea of what was happening
The guard with all the due respect took them all in behind malisha and aryan
" We have met after a long time really, and maybe it's your first time in the club too no my queen" asked aryan casually with his shimmering eyes , that man stood on his code name well the player
But malisha sounds very professional and said
" Well i don't think meeting my P.A. everyday is anywhere important and also i keep a watch at places i own, or rather give away to be owned under my name, especially those which gives a good revenue"
" Hmm....yes it does give a good revenue, isn't thats why it's yours my queen, " said aryan leading them all to the flight of stair case " and , now that you are here and you have agreed on the fact that I am infact you P A so please consider the files and meetings too , and are you still for sure not taking any case, hugh?" Said aryan, almost like a bank employee, but better looking, the kind of bank employee, who can sell you the worst scheme to waste your money, but you will and that too with a smile
But then again, malisha ignored him , his looks and his words, like none of it ever existed
The team followed behind with guards and none of them didn't uttered a word, some due to fear others due to shock, malisha knew very well who was silent due to which reason
Malisha glanced around the elite section of the ranks club before answering.
"You of all people know I haven't taken a case in two years," she said evenly.
The space was almost empty—by design. Thick carpets, gold-edged crockery, low lighting, and a bar stocked with the finest liquor still circulating in a dying world. Luxury sitting calmly in the middle of hell.
Every eye in the room—guards, staff, even the walls—seemed to stare at Malisha and her crew like they didn't belong there.
Like pearls dropped into fire.
Aryan gestured toward a seat for Malisha, then turned toward the bar.
"Well," he said lightly while pulling out crystal glasses, "you made quite a lot of noise today for someone officially declared dead. I thought maybe that meant you were considering… reopening business."
He poured wine with unhurried precision.
"The assassination offers on your name are insane, by the way. Starting at one million. The highest?" He paused, counting the crew with a glance. "Six billion. You know whose."
He turned, holding out a glass toward Malisha with a charming smile.
"Wine? Best left in this dying world, I dare say."
"I don't drink," Malisha replied, irritation slipping through. "Just like I don't take assassination cases. You know that. What's wrong with you today?"
Aryan shrugged. "I don't know. I thought maybe now that you're officially an adult, you'd take a chance. Like you did with Rank Fifty. Or those men outside."
He walked past Malisha and stopped near Siya, offering her the same glass without even fully looking at her.
"Fancy it, love?"
Siya hesitated, then took it, avoiding his eyes.
Malisha leaned back into her seat.
"I still don't drink," she said flatly. "And those incidents were necessary. Rank Fifty had survivors hostage. The rest outside weren't any better. You know how this world works."
She paused, then added quietly, "And you can handle the cleanup. Like you did before."
Aditya muttered under his breath, just loud enough in the silence— "Doesn't drink. Still hard to believe."
No one reacted.
Malisha didn't turn—but her eyes flinched for a fraction of a second.
Aryan cleared his throat.
"Yes. Already handled," he said smoothly. "The crowd outside has been… cleared."
His gaze flicked briefly toward the crew before returning to Malisha.
"Don't worry. I know exactly what I'm employed for, my queen."
He sat beside her while the rest of the crew was directed to the grand sofa nearby. Waitresses appeared instantly, serving drinks, smiling far too often at Aryan.
He smiled back—effortless, practiced.
Malisha didn't even notice.
"So," Aryan said at last, turning serious, "what's the real problem? You didn't come here just to say hello. Definitely not with your crew. And certainly not to check revenue—I'd need to beg you ten times for that."
Malisha's voice cooled.
"We had an accident. The bus is badly damaged. Oil is leaking. My crew is injured and exhausted. And your lights and music have turned this place into a Red Zone in everything but name."
Aryan exhaled slowly.
"I'll have rooms prepared. I'll see if the bus can be fixed—if not, I'll arrange another. Doctors are already here."
He met her eyes.
"I'll take care of everything. But you attend the meeting tomorrow."
Malisha didn't look impressed.
"The rooms should already be ready."
"They will be," Aryan replied easily. "I would've offered you mine—but I know you'd refuse."
He smirked. "Unless you've changed your mind, my queen?"
"Oh God," Malisha muttered, leaning back. "When will you stop flirting?"
"When you stop pretending that's not one of the reasons you hired me," he said, standing. "My unavoidable charm."
"I hired you to manage what I can't," she countered calmly, a faint smile lighting her eyes. "Not because you're a Casanova, Player."
For the first time, Aryan faltered.
Just slightly.
He looked away, then glanced at the crew—faces tight with anger, confusion, questions.
He understood immediately.
Aryan looked back at Malisha and gave a subtle nod.
She lowered her gaze, then nodded back—tired, controlled.
"Well then," Aryan said brightly, clapping his hands. "Come on, boys. There's work to be done. Queen Conquera is at Devila Pearl—no small matter."
He turned and left with the guards.
The elite room fell silent.
Only Malisha, her crew, a few waitresses, and two guards remained.
The air felt heavy.
Too heavy.
Especially for those who had just walked out of a burning bus and straight into the Queen's world.
The room fell silent.
The waitresses stood frozen at the corners. The guards didn't move.
Only the low, steady breathing of the dogs broke the quiet.
Malisha turned toward the team and the survivors.
No one spoke for a long moment.
"So… so, Captain," Dweep finally said, his voice thin, desperate, "are you really— I mean… Queen Conquera?"
The survivors didn't even dare breathe.
"Isn't that confirmed a million times by now, Dweep?" Aditya replied, staring at the floor, not at Malisha. His fingers twisted the ring on his hand again and again. Malisha noticed.
"Do you really want confirmation that we've been fooled?" he added.
Siya stepped forward.
"Look at me, Malisha Ramaniya," she said, voice shaking. "How could you kill so many people? For money?"
Malisha didn't look away.
"Well, Siya," she said calmly, "none of them were very good people. And yes—I kill."
She paused.
"I don't have an explanation for that."
The room shifted.
Confusion hardened into disgust.
Aditya finally looked at her. His eyes were wet, but no tears fell. For a second, he looked like he hadn't heard her at all. Then he straightened—back into the OG they all knew—and exhaled sharply.
"You're the reason we're trapped like this," Reha cried. "You heartless, pathetic murderer."
"You killed Boxer," Ram added bitterly. "Then acted like you saved us. You're not a rescuer. You never were."
One voice turned into many.
Accusations piled up.
Dweep was too stunned to stop them. Siya stood frozen. Malisha didn't argue. Didn't defend herself. She sat there—neither proud nor apologetic.
Raghav said nothing. He drank quietly through the pain, watching it all unfold like he'd known this moment was coming.
Aditya stared at everyone—then at Malisha, who refused to meet his eyes.
"Enough."
His voice cut through the room.
"We're here for one night," he said. "Tomorrow, we leave. And since we no longer have a captain—"
He swallowed.
"I'll lead the crew. I promised you safety, and I'll keep that promise."
Malisha looked at him—truly looked—surprised. Maybe by his strength. Maybe because they had been raised together.
"But I—" she began.
"I don't want to hear anything else you have to say," Aditya replied, still not looking at her.
"Adi, I understand," she said softly, standing, moving toward him.
"You can come with us," he said coldly, "or stay in your luxury club and keep killing people. Your choice."
He finally glanced at her.
"But I suggest you decide later, my queen. Right now, you're intolerable to everyone here.Especially me."
A guard entered quietly. "The rooms are ready."
Aditya walked out first.
A single tear hit the floor.
He didn't look back.
The others followed—one by one. Dweep left last, nearly tripping.
"Careful," Malisha said instinctively.
Dweep paused, looked at her, swallowed—then left without a word.
Malisha remained alone.
Only her dogs stayed close.
Aryan entered the room moments later.
"So," he said gently, his smile softer this time, "I'm guessing that didn't go well."
"It was never supposed to," Malisha replied quietly. "But it wasn't supposed to happen either."
She looked at him.
"At least you're still talking to me. Let me guess—work?"
Aryan smiled faintly.
"Come on," he said. "Your room's ready. And just so you know—I'm paid to be your P.A., not your friend."
He paused.
"That part's entirely my choice."
He turned toward the hallway.
"They're still your people, Mal. Just… stunned."
He glanced back with a half-smile.
"I do tend to have that effect."
Malisha followed him.
Her dogs trailed behind.