Chapter 1: The Collision of Fates
2025 - Los Angeles
The alley reeked of sweat, metal, and fear. Shadows loomed tall under the cold stare of L.A.'s skyline, and broken glass crunched under Pari Shah's boots as she stood alone-bloody-knuckled, smirking, and vastly outnumbered.
"Wow," she chuckled, brushing a smear of blood from her lip. "You guys are tougher than I expected."
One of the thugs laughed. "This chick's lost it."
"You really think you can take all of us?" another sneered. "Who the hell do you think you are? Some random girl?"
Pari tilted her head. Her eyes, gleaming with fire, narrowed with deadly calm.
"Oh, I know exactly who you are. Low-life drug dealers poisoning this city. And I'm the girl who's going to burn your little empire to the ground."
They burst into mocking laughter.
"A girl's gonna stop us? Let's see what you've got, sweetheart."
Pari's smirk sharpened. "Big mistake, boys."
They charged.
She didn't flinch.
In a blur of brutal, practiced motion, she became a storm. Every strike was calculated, every move lethal. Fists flew, bones cracked, and soon the alley was filled with the groans of pain and defeat. When the dust settled, only one was left conscious-barely.
She planted her boot on his chest.
"That's where you belong. On the ground."
He gasped, eyes wide. "Who the hell... are you?"
Pari leaned down, her voice cold and victorious. "The name's Pari Shah. I'll see you again-behind bars."
She calmly dialed the police, reporting the gang and their hidden stash.
As sirens echoed in the distance, she caught movement in the corner-a bloodied man slumped against the wall, barely breathing.
"What the hell..." she muttered, approaching him cautiously. "Who are you?"
He looked young. But there was something about him-a quiet storm behind half-lidded eyes.
She winced at the pain in her side but knelt beside him. "Consider yourself lucky. I don't usually play hero."
Despite her injuries, she helped him to his feet.
"You look Indian... What are you doing in a place like this?"
He groaned faintly, offering no answer.
She rolled her eyes. "Fine. Just don't die on me. And get out of here before round two shows up."
2023 - Seoul, South Korea
Pari's Private Estate
"Ma'am! Where have you been for two weeks?"
Mr. Lee, her loyal manager and also the only family she had in that country, stood stiffly at the entrance of the estate, voice tight with worry. "You vanished. No messages, and now-these injuries?! The companies are going insane."
Pari brushed past him, exhausted. "I told you. I can't disclose where I go. It's personal."
"Personal?" He stepped forward, clearly frustrated. "You're risking your life. Again."
"We've had this talk."
"Then tell me this-who leaked your location during the raid?"
She froze.
"You found something?"
Mr. Lee handed over a file. "Yes, ma'am. As you suspected, someone leaked your position. And I regret to say... it was your field secretary. The one I appointed."
Her expression darkened. "You're telling me you didn't run a background check?"
"I did. I swear. But I failed. They paid him off, ma'am. It's my fault."
Pari's voice turned ice-cold. "Where is he?"
[Later - A Deserted Warehouse]
The traitor trembled, tied to a chair, sweat glistening under flickering lights.
Pari stood before him, calm but deadly.
"I'm not a bad person," she said, voice almost playful. "But you've put me in a difficult position. What should I do now?"
"Please! Let me go!" he begged.
She smirked. "Oh, I will. Eventually. But your family? Gone. They're not coming back to you."
His eyes widened in horror. "What does that mean?!"
"You sold my location for cash?" She circled him slowly. "So I paid your wife a visit. Gave her enough to disappear. Told her about your little... nightlife habits."
"You're lying!" he shouted.
"Am I?" she purred. "Maybe she realized she deserves better. Somewhere far away. Without you."
He sobbed, broken.
"I won't kill you," she said, turning to leave. "That's not my style. But I'll make sure no one hires you again. Ever."
She nodded at Mr. Lee. "Use the company's influence. Make him disappear from every system."
Pari's Estate - That Evening
"Ma'am," Mr. Lee began hesitantly, "Sharan Sir has been trying to reach you for days. Being the manager and Current Head of your Dad's Second Hotel in India, He has been trying to reach out to you since a long time from India."
Pari's eyes darkened. "India..."
"There's pending work. And he mentioned your father. You'll have to respond eventually."
She turned away. "There's someone I promised to meet there. It might be time."
Mr. Lee continued, "Here in Korea, our Hotel-the Royal Palace Hotel -is thriving. But the world still doesn't know who you really are."
She gave a faint smile. "Maybe they will. After I finish what I started."
He sighed. "You're a chaebol hiding in plain sight."
She shot him a look. "Are you done?"
Mr. Lee cleared his throat hesitantly. "Also, ma'am... you received another call from the same number."
Pari glanced up, brow raised. "Which number?"
"The one that's been asking for your whereabouts. Constantly."
Her expression hardened. "Let me guess. Sharma Sir."
Mr. Lee nodded. "Yes. Your father's old friend. He's been calling for a long time now. I think... he genuinely needs you."
Pari paused, caught off guard. "You knew?"
A flicker of something unreadable passed over Mr. Lee's face. "Yes, ma'am. Of course I did. I've worked for your family for years. There's little I don't know."
She leaned back, exhaling slowly. "That explains a lot..."
He took a step closer, voice firm but gentle. "Why do you keep avoiding his calls?"
Pari scoffed. "Because all he ever does is try to convince me to join their agency.
Mr. Lee didn't smile. "Maybe he has a point."
She narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me?"
"If you're so determined not to handle your family's business, ma'am... then at least consider something legitimate. Rather than continuing with this underground 'fixing'-the fighting, the raids, the revenge-why not put your skills to use legally? Become an agent. A real one. Work with the agency. Do it the right way."
Pari's eyes flared. "What do you mean, Mr. Lee?!"
Her voice rose, sharp and full of heat. "Are you saying I'm just some street goon doing this for fun?!"
"No, ma'am," he said calmly. "I'm saying you deserve better. You have the mind, the discipline, and the fire. So stop hiding in the shadows pretending you're not born for more."
She turned away, jaw clenched. The silence between them throbbed.
"No more discussions on this," she said coldly. "Not now. Not ever."
"I'll book your flight."
2025 - Los Angeles
Unknown Hospital
The rhythmic beeping of machines filled the stark hospital room. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, harsh against the sterile white ceiling. Veer Singhania stirred, the pounding in his skull echoing like distant thunder.
His eyes blinked open slowly.
"Sir! You're awake!" came an eager voice.
Veer groaned, turning his face away from the light. "Stay away."
Zain Khan, his childhood friend and ever-loyal right-hand man, exhaled in visible relief-but not without his signature sarcasm. "You nearly got yourself killed. Again. And let me guess-you went solo. Again."
Veer winced, shifting in the stiff bed. "How did I end up here?"
Zain folded his arms. "Apparently, you were rescued by a girl who single-handedly took down an entire gang. Sounds like something out of a graphic novel, to be honest."
"No," Veer said, his voice rough but certain. "She was real."
Zain raised an eyebrow. "Right. Let me guess-cape, mask, and a dramatic soundtrack?"
Veer didn't bother replying.
Then Zain's tone shifted, more serious. "Who did this to you, Veer? And how did they even find your hotel room? You were supposed to be there quietly, solving that land issue. Getting your father's property back. So how-how did those goons know exactly where to find you?"
Veer's eyes darkened. "Seems like an inside job, doesn't it?"
There was a beat of silence as Zain stared at him, comprehension dawning in his eyes.
Of course. The stepbrother.
The spoiled, resentful one who had always loathed Veer for being the golden son. The one their father tolerated but never truly saw. The one who had everything but still wanted more-especially what Veer had.
The hospital door creaked open. Both men straightened.
In walked Mr. Singhania-patriarch of one of India's oldest underground families, dressed in tailored black, with eyes that weighed men like coins. His presence cast a chill over the room.
"You alright?" he asked, his tone neither soft nor warm.
Veer didn't flinch. "I'm fine."
"What happened?"
Veer looked at Zain briefly, then back at his father. "I don't know. It was a blur."
Zain lowered his gaze, his silence echoing the shared lie.
Mr. Singhania nodded slowly, though his eyes lingered. Then, with a sharp shift in tone, he asked, "Did you secure the land?"
Veer's jaw clenched, but his voice held steady. "Yes. It's ours."
A gleam of pride-tainted with greed-lit the old man's face. "Good," he said curtly, turning to leave.
His stepbrother followed him silently, casting a quick glance back at the man he had betrayed. Veer met his eyes, unblinking, and the truth crackled between them like static in the air.
When they were gone, the silence returned like a heavy fog.
Later that Evening
The room was dim now, bathed in amber hues from the setting sun leaking through the blinds. Zain sat on the window sill, sipping coffee, watching Veer as he slowly sat up, wincing from the pain.
"Did we get the land papers?" Veer asked at last.
Zain nodded. "Yes. But there's a catch. The current owner refuses to sell."
Veer's eyes sharpened. "Then we stop asking."
Zain sighed dramatically. "Here we go again..."
Veer leaned forward, ignoring the pain. "Where is this land exactly?"
Zain hesitated, glancing at him. "India."
The name hit the air like a loaded bullet.
Veer went still. The silence that followed was more telling than words.
"That land is the only viable spot for our weapons work," Zain continued carefully. "Secluded. Strategic. And we've got potential buyers already lined up across India. But without that land, it all falls apart."
Veer exhaled, slow and deliberate. "If negotiation isn't an option... I'll go myself."
Zain blinked. "Are you insane? India?"
Veer's lips curved into a cold smile. "Then that's where we're going."
Zain stood up, nearly dropping his cup. "Have you lost it? You swore you'd never go back there. That place-those memories-"
"I remember," Veer said softly. "I never forgot."
Zain stared at him, torn between duty and fear. "You really want to reopen that chapter?"
Veer's voice was steel. "It was never closed."
He turned his gaze to the window, the fading sky reflected in his eyes. "Besides... I have unfinished business in India."
Five Weeks Later - En Route to India
Pari leaned back in her first-class seat, staring out the window. "This is going to be tough..."
Let me just do my work and nothing else, just some weeks, that's.it....
Elsewhere on the same flight, Veer asked for water while Zain groaned, "This is going to be hell..."
Veer through his memories in head and thinking of the times he has spend in India.
Veer talks to himself, is this a good decision?
Veer hears a girl asking for a coffee in a particular way with specific amount of ingredients and remembers the voice also amazed with the audacity of ordering but ignores it. It is the voice of Pari ordering her coffee...
Mumbai, India - Hotel Lobby
Pari leaned back into the plush comfort of her first-class seat, her fingers curled around the window frame as she stared out at the endless stretch of clouds. A storm of thoughts swirled behind her calm gaze.
"This is going to be tough..." she muttered under her breath.
She shut her eyes for a moment, willing herself into focus.
"Just a few weeks. I'll finish what I came for-then I'm done. No distractions. No memories. No emotions."
A few rows away, a tall man in a charcoal suit pushed the call button.
"Water," Veer said crisply.
Zain, slouched beside him and looking thoroughly annoyed, groaned audibly.
"This is going to be hell..."
Veer didn't answer. His gaze was fixed on nothing, lost somewhere in the turbulence of memory-memories of India. Of dusty roads and whispered names. Of unfinished business.
"Is this the right decision?" he whispered to himself, resting his head back against the seat.
Suddenly, a voice rang out-not loud, but precise and deliberate.
"One double shot of espresso, oat milk, two cubes of brown sugar, stirred exactly four times."
Veer blinked. Something about the way she ordered-confident, no-nonsense, exacting-struck a chord. That voice. He turned his head slightly, trying not to seem obvious. It couldn't be...
He shook it off. Coincidence. Nothing more.
Mumbai, India - Hotel Lobby
The humid air of Mumbai clung to her like an old secret. Pari stepped out of the airport and into the waiting car without a word. She had no desire to linger. No time to waste. The city may have once held pieces of her past, but today, it was just a battlefield.
As the car glided through the streets, something tugged at her. A narrow lane came into view-a place she hadn't seen in years. It looked the same: cracked pavements, children playing cricket, and a rusted bicycle leaning against a tree. Without realizing it, she asked the driver to stop.
She sat on a nearby bench.
Time blurred.
By the time she snapped out of her daze, an hour had passed.
"What am I doing..." she whispered, snapping upright.
Without looking back, she got into the car and instructed the driver to take her straight to the hotel.
The lobby of the Rosemont Grand was as grand as ever-crystal chandeliers, polished marble floors, staff dressed with perfect precision. She walked in, suitcase in one hand, determination in the other.
She approached the reception.
"I've reserved a suite," she said, voice cool and unwavering.
The clerk tapped at the keyboard, eyes flitting up at her.
"Yes, ma'am. Room 1507. Are you... um, alone?"
Her brow arched just slightly.
"Why?"
The clerk flinched.
"N-no reason, ma'am."
Taking the keycard, she strode toward the elevator without another word.
Inside the suite, she tossed her luggage aside, unzipped her coat, and threw herself onto the bed with a long sigh.
"Finally..."
Then-she heard it.
Running water.
Her heart paused.
The sound was unmistakable. The bathroom door creaked open slowly.
Pari sat up, tension snapping through her spine.
A man stepped out-towel clinging to his waist, water dripping from his bruised shoulders and chest. He froze mid-step.
They both screamed.
"Who the hell are you?!" she yelled, instinctively reaching for the nearest lamp.
"That's my question!" he shouted back, backing up against the doorframe.
They stared at each other-heaving, shocked, wide-eyed.
Then recognition dawned on his face.
"You... you're that girl!" Veer said, stunned.
Pari blinked, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.
"Huh?!"
And just like that, the past slammed into the present.
TO BE CONTINUED...