Inside Regal Club's unfinished interior, Robin Seth's devastating punch to Vikram Singh still echoed, the security leader crumpled on the floor, blood trickling from his mouth. The staff, loyal to Priya Reddy but hostile to Robin, stood frozen, their initial resistance shattered by his SS-level authority. Chetan Rana, the wiry manager, gaped, his skepticism wavering as Robin's raw power silenced the room.
Vikram, clutching his ribs, staggered to his feet, his voice hoarse but defiant. "You think one punch makes you boss?" he growled, his scarred arms tensing. "My underworld connections will keep this club safe. Without me, Regal's will become a target." His words rallied the staff, their loyalty to Priya fueling their doubt in Robin.
Chetan stepped forward, his sharp gaze locked on Robin. "Vikram's right," he said, his tone fierce. "His ties will hold this place together. You're a nobody, Seth—can you keep us safe without him?" The staff nodded, their trust in Chetan and Vikram's established roles outweighing Robin's display of strength.
Robin's lips curled, his voice dripping with mockery. "Connections? You mean your incompetent bribes to thugs?" he said, stepping closer to Vikram. "Those funds could pay the staff better wages. Your so-called protection's a scam." The accusation stung, the staff murmuring, Chetan's face tightening with anger.
Vikram's eyes blazed, his voice a snarl. "If I walk, the underworld will tear Regal apart," he threatened, looming over Robin. "Test me, Seth. You'll beg for my help when chaos hits." His words hung heavy, the staff's unease palpable as they awaited Robin's response.
Robin's gaze was steel, his voice calm but commanding. "No one will touch Regal under my watch," he said, his tone unshaken. "Your underworld pals? Let them try me." The challenge was a gauntlet, daring Vikram to unleash his influence, the room crackling with tension.
The doors swung open, and Arjun Desai, a feared underworld figure and Robin's old ally, strode in, carrying a crate of premium liquors as a gift. "Don Robin," he said, his voice low, respectful, "I'm yours to command." He bowed slightly, stunning Vikram and the staff with his subservience. Chetan's jaw dropped, the staff whispering in shock.
Moments later, Anil Sharma, heir to the powerful Sharma Syndicate, entered with a team of elite security and service staff, their uniforms crisp. "Don Robin," Anil said, his tone reverent, "my people are yours, free of charge, to make Regal untouchable." He offered a stack of contracts, his deference to Robin palpable, begging him to accept the aid.
Anil's address of "Don Robin" and his plea revealed Robin's formidable reputation in Hyderabad's underworld, a shadow of his past as Don Robin. The staff's awe grew, their eyes wide as Vikram's defiance faltered, his face paling. "You… you know them?" he stammered, his bravado crumbling.
Robin's voice was a low command, his gaze sweeping the room. "Regal's mine now," he said, his authority absolute. "Arjun, Anil—their loyalty proves no one will challenge this club." The staff shrank back, their resistance crumbling under the weight of Robin's connections. Vikram's fear was palpable, his underworld ties dwarfed, as Chetan's skepticism shattered. Priya's smile gleamed, her pride in Robin a spark in the now-quiet storm, Regal Club's future firmly in his grip.