They caught the traitor at dawn.
He was just a boy. Barely older than Meher’s younger brother. Hands trembling, eyes wild, knees scraped from running through the broken alleys of Delhi’s underworld.
Kabir’s men dragged him to the courtyard. The execution was supposed to be quick. Quiet.
But Meher stepped in.
“Wait.”
Kabir turned, expression unreadable. “Why?”
She walked forward slowly, heart thudding. “He’s scared. He’s not built for this life.”
“He stole intel. Tried to sell it to Bhardwaj’s crew. If I show mercy, I lose respect.”
“Then make them fear your mind, not your bullets.”
A silence fell. The boy looked at her like she was light, Kabir like she was lightning.
He gave a single nod.
“Strip him of all rank,” Kabir said coldly. “Brand him. Release him. But if I ever see his face again... I won’t hesitate.”
The boy collapsed in sobs. Meher turned away before the branding iron hissed.
Later that night, Kabir found her alone on the balcony.
“You saved him,” he said.
“I didn’t do it for him.”
“No?”
She looked out at the city. “I did it to remind myself that I’m still human.”
Kabir stepped closer, whispering at her ear. “You think mercy makes you strong?”
She shook her head. “No. But it makes me different from you.”
And for once, he didn’t argue.
Because deep down, Kabir knew—
Her mercy cost more than his cruelty ever did.
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