No Way Out

Malik walked the narrow streets of Kasab, his mind unsettled. The city was shifting. Power was slipping through unseen hands, and he was caught in the current.

At a quiet intersection, he slowed. A black car was parked near a closed shop.

The window rolled down. The slim man sat inside.

"Get in," he said.

Malik hesitated, then did.

The car pulled away. Kasab's streets blurred past.

The man lit a cigarette. "You're careful. I like that." He exhaled smoke. "But let me be clear—you can't walk both roads. Not here."

Malik said nothing.

The man smirked. "You're in now, whether you accept it or not. Shetty's watching you. Rizwan's men are asking about you." He turned to face Malik. "The only question left is—where do you stand?"

Malik's fingers curled slightly.

The slim man handed him another note. No explanation. Just an address.

"This is your last choice," he said. "After this, you stop being a passerby."

The car slowed. Malik stepped out, the note clenched in his palm.

The night air felt heavier than before.

Kasab wasn't offering him an exit.

It was pulling him deeper.

And this time, there was no way out.