Inside Regal Club's unfinished interior, Vikram Singh, still reeling from Robin Seth's devastating punch, dropped to his knees, his scarred face pale with awe. "I submit," he rasped, his voice trembling, cowed by Robin's connections to underworld titans like Arjun Desai and Anil Sharma. The staff, loyal to Priya Reddy but once hostile to Robin, stood stunned, their resistance crumbling under his SS-level authority.
Anil Sharma, heir to the Sharma Syndicate, eager to curry favor, gestured to a group of elite hostesses, their elegance poised to elevate Regal Club's allure. "These are for Regal," he said, his tone reverent. "They'll draw Hyderabad's elite, Nothing will held this place back." Chetan Rana, the wiry manager, gaped, his ambition reignited by the influx of talent, his skepticism fading.
Chetan stepped forward, his sharp gaze softening. "I doubted you, Seth," he admitted, his voice gruff but earnest. "But with Arjun and Anil behind you, and now this? I'm in." The staff murmured, their loyalty to Priya merging with newfound respect for Robin, their vision for Regal's revival sparked anew.
Robin faced the staff, his voice commanding. "You're all getting a 10% salary hike and profit-sharing," he declared, his tone unwavering. Cheers erupted, but Chetan's brow furrowed, his voice cautious. "That's generous, Seth, but Regal's finances are tight—how'll you fund this?"
Robin's eyes glinted, unflinched. "The liquor supply issue with Global Exports? I'll fix it soon," he said, his confidence silencing Chetan's doubts. "Regal will rise, and you'll all share in its glory." The staff's morale surged, Priya's smile gleaming with pride at Robin's bold promise.
Outside Aisha Seth's upscale bar, one of her non-tech ventures under the Horizon name, Aisha and Vikram Malhotra celebrated a renewed exclusive liquor contract with Neelima Menon's Global Exports. "This locks our dominance," Aisha purred, her voice smug, raising a glass. Vikram smirked, his eyes gleaming. "Regal's dead in the water, and Robin's a desperate fool chasing Neelima's scraps."
Neelima, clutching her temple as a headache worsened, brushed off Robin's earlier hair-plucking stunt. "He's irrelevant," she said, her voice strained but dismissive. Vikram laughed, his tone cruel. "Robin's shameless, groveling for your deal. He's nothing." Their mockery stung, the bar's neon glow casting shadows on their triumph.
Sanjay Hooda, Neelima's cousin, sidled up to Priya, his leer predatory. "Forget Robin," he whispered, his voice oily. "Give me what I want, and Global Exports will back Regal." His proposition dripped with sleaze, his hand grazing her arm, escalating the tension.
Robin's hand cracked across Sanjay's face, a violent slap that echoed through the rain-soaked street. "Touch her again, and you're done," he snarled, his protective stance unyielding. Sanjay stumbled back, clutching his cheek, his eyes wide with shock. Aisha's smirk vanished, her voice a hiss. "You'll regret that, Robin." Neelima's headache flared, her glare icy, but Robin stood firm, unapologetic.
The confrontation outside Aisha's bar intensified Robin's rivalry with her and Vikram, his bold slap a calculated move hinting at his plan to expose Sanjay's poisoning scheme against Neelima. Regal's future and Global Exports' support hung in the balance, the storm of Robin's gambit brewing fiercer than ever.