“Come with me,” Kabir said, one cold morning, just after dawn.
Meher followed him through a corridor she’d never noticed. A biometric scanner blinked red—until his thumb pressed against it. The door slid open with a hiss.
Inside: silence, steel… and secrets.
The vault.
Rows of safes. Documents. Weapons. Evidence. Everything Kabir had ever used to build his empire—or destroy someone else’s.
“This is where I keep leverage,” he said. “On friends. Enemies. Even family.”
Meher walked slowly, fingers tracing the edges of locked drawers. “And you brought me here… why?”
He stopped at the far wall, where a single box lay open. Inside: an old photograph. A woman in a red sari. A boy beside her, smiling like he didn’t know how the world would change.
“My mother,” Kabir said. “She died when I was twelve. Not by accident.”
Meher turned. “You’ve never told anyone that.”
“I don’t tell anyone anything.”
“But you told me.”
He looked at her—dark eyes softer than she’d ever seen. “Because I need you to know... I wasn’t always the monster.”
She reached out and touched the photo gently. “You were a boy once.”
“I buried him a long time ago.”
“No,” she whispered. “You just hid him here.”
And when Kabir took her hand, pressed it against the vault door—
It wasn’t about control anymore.
It was trust.
And in the underworld,
Trust was the most dangerous weapon of all.
Write a comment ...