The air was thick with power, the scent of cigars mingling with the night breeze. Veeru Bhai sat at the head of the grand lawn, men surrounding him in a loose but respectful formation, his presence alone commanding silence. Business was being discussed, numbers, deals, threats—until it wasn’t.

Because then, it happened.

“VEERUUUU!”

The entire lawn stilled. Conversations cut short. Eyes shifted to the woman who had just walked out, confidence in every step. Yn.

The same girl they had once seen slap a man across the face without hesitation. The moment had left everyone stunned, but Veeru? He had smirked. Because she was his, had been for two years, and if there was anyone who could get away with this, it was her.

A few of his men exchanged wary glances, some even amused, but no one dared to speak.

Veeru Bhai leaned back in his chair, slow and deliberate, eyes lazily dragging up to meet hers. A ghost of a smirk played on his lips as he exhaled his cigar smoke.

“Zinda hoon, jaan. Kya baat hai?” (I’m alive, darling. What’s the matter?)

Because no matter how ruthless, how feared—when it came to her, Veeru Bhai was always listening. Ko