The Night of chaos

Veer let out a slow breath, his fingers still resting on the tattoo. Her face stared back at him, frozen in time.

How many years had passed?

How many nights had he stood in front of this mirror, waiting for a memory to come alive?

But she never did.

She was gone. And all he had left were ghosts.

His jaw clenched as he turned away, grabbing a shirt and throwing it on. No more lingering. No more weakness.

Just as he reached for the doorknob—

Knock. Knock.

He paused. His grip tightened.

No one disturbed him. Not unless it was important.

"Come in," he said, his voice calm, controlled.

The door pushed open, and Karan stood there. But for once, his usual playful smirk was missing. His sharp eyes held something serious, something urgent.

"We have a problem."

Veer didn't react. He simply stepped forward. "Where?"

"Zayan," Karan said.

Veer's footsteps stilled.

"He got into a fight."

Veer exhaled through his nose, already knowing what must have happened.

"Someone touched his locket, didn't they?"

Karan nodded. "And he lost it."

For the first time that night, a flicker of emotion passed through Veer's gaze.

"Where is he?"

"Outside. With Rudra. But… it's bad this time."

Veer didn't waste another second.

The night air was cold, but the tension was scorching.

Zayan stood in the middle of the courtyard, blood dripping from his knuckles. His black shirt was torn at the sleeve, and his chest rose and fell with uncontained fury.

A man lay at his feet, groaning, his face a mess of bruises and blood.

Rudra stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching with cold amusement. "You should've just broken his fingers and left it at that," he said lazily. "Now we have a problem."

Zayan's jaw was clenched so tight it looked like he might break his teeth.

"He touched it," Zayan growled. "No one touches it."

Rudra smirked. "And you made sure he won't touch anything else for a while."

Just then, Veer walked out.

Silence fell.

Even Zayan, in his anger, stilled when Veer's gaze landed on him.

It wasn't fear. Not exactly.

But when the lion enters the battlefield, even the wolves know when to fall in line.

Veer's voice was quiet, steady. "What happened?"

Zayan exhaled sharply. "He saw the locket. Tried to grab it." His fingers curled tighter around the bloodstained metal against his chest. "I didn't think. I just… reacted."

Veer's gaze flickered to the beaten man on the ground. He didn't even spare him a second glance. "Did he see her face?"

Zayan hesitated.

Rudra answered instead. "No. He barely even touched it before Zayan snapped."

Veer's shoulders relaxed by a fraction.

Karan finally walked up, hands shoved into his pockets. "Should we kill him?"

Zayan didn't hesitate. "Yes."

But Veer?

He turned his head slightly, observing the man who was now barely conscious.

"Not yet."

Zayan's eyes darkened. "He doesn't deserve to live."

Veer gave him a long, unreadable look.

Then, he knelt down.

The man coughed, barely able to keep his swollen eyes open. But when he saw Veer staring at him, a deep, primal fear settled into his bones.

Veer leaned in slightly, his voice low, deadly.

"You touched something you shouldn't have."

The man whimpered. "I—I didn't know—"

Veer smiled. It wasn't warm. It wasn't kind.

It was merciless.

"And now you will learn."

Without another word, he stood back up and turned away.

"Take him," he ordered.

Immediately, Rudra's men stepped forward, dragging the barely conscious man into the shadows.

Zayan exhaled, still furious.

"That's not enough," he muttered. "He should be dead."

Veer met his gaze. Steady. Unyielding.

"He will be," Veer said. "Just not yet."

Because dead men don't talk.

But before he let him die, Veer would make sure the man forgot he ever even saw that locket.

The air was thick with tension even after the fight had ended.

Zayan still looked pissed, his jaw tight, knuckles bloody. Karan had gone back inside, probably already buried in his laptop, tracking down any loose ends. Rudra leaned against the railing, flipping a knife between his fingers, ever the silent observer.

And Veer?

He stood there, still as stone, his mind already moving five steps ahead.

But tonight wasn't over yet.

Because trouble always found them.

---

Inside the Mansion

The hall was still lively despite the fight outside. Glasses clinked, smoke curled into the air, and low murmurs filled the space.

Zayan grabbed a drink from the bar, downing it in one go before slamming the glass down.

"I need a distraction," he muttered.

Rudra smirked. "Girls or guns?"

Zayan gave him a look. "Both."

"Figures."

Just then, the heavy doors of the mansion swung open.

A group of men walked in—well-dressed, cocky, the type that thought money made them powerful. Politicians' sons, corrupt businessmen, the usual filth.

Veer barely spared them a glance.

But Zayan?

He let out a low whistle. "Oh, this should be fun."

One of the men, dressed in an expensive suit, sauntered toward them, his smirk already pissing off Rudra.

"Didn't think we'd be seeing you tonight, Veer," the man said, too casual. Too familiar.

Veer didn't respond. He simply took a sip of his whiskey, waiting.

The man chuckled. "Still the same. Cold, calculating." He glanced at Zayan and Rudra. "And your attack dogs? Still as reckless?"

Zayan smiled. The kind of smile that came before someone got hurt.

"Reckless?" he repeated. "Funny, coming from someone who still hasn't learned his place."

The man scoffed, but there was a flicker of unease in his eyes. "You act like you own this city."

Veer finally looked at him. A single glance.

And the man shut up.

Because everyone knew—Veer didn't act like he owned the city. He just did.

"Why are you here?" Veer asked, voice calm.

The man hesitated, then forced a grin. "Business."

Veer leaned back, unimpressed. "We're not interested."

"But you haven't even heard the deal."

Rudra sighed. "Do we look like we care?"

The man gritted his teeth. But before he could say anything stupid, someone called his name.

"Rehan," a voice purred.

A woman walked in, draped in an expensive dress, confidence in every step. She slid up next to the man—Rehan—and wrapped an arm around him.

Zayan's smirk widened. "Look at that. You brought a date?"

Rehan tensed. "She's none of your concern."

"She will be if she keeps looking at us like that."

The woman's eyes flickered between them, calculating. And then, she smiled—a slow, knowing smile that made Karan, who had just joined them, raise an eyebrow.

"Interesting company you keep," she mused.

Veer set his glass down, finally done with this pointless conversation. "If you're here for business, leave your proposal on the table. If you're here for anything else, leave."

Rehan glared but didn't argue. He turned and walked away, the woman following after him.

As soon as they were gone, Karan spoke. "That woman… something's off about her."

Rudra hummed. "I agree. She looked at us like she knew something."

Zayan stretched his arms. "I say we find out what."

Veer exhaled, rubbing his temples. "Later. For now, we wait."

But in his gut, he already knew—

Tonight wasn't over yet.