Chapter 17: The Leech
Jubilee Hills, Hyderabad.
The air conditioner in Satya Kumar's office was set to eighteen degrees, but Satya was sweating.
He stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass window, looking out at the city he was trying to buy. On his desk lay a stack of files—all related to the Puppalaguda Outer Ring Road project.
It was stuck.
Every time his surveyors went to the land, Mallesh's men appeared with iron rods. Every time he tried to bribe the local Inspector, the Inspector claimed "pressure from above" (which was a lie; the Inspector was just paid off by Arjun to stay neutral).
"Twenty crores," Satya growled, slamming his fist against the glass. "I am losing twenty crores because of some street thugs!"
Sitting on the leather sofa was Advocate Murthy, Satya's legal fixer. Murthy was a man who knew which judges to bribe and which criminals to hire.
"It's not just street thugs, Satya," Murthy said, sipping his coffee. "I did some digging. The orders are coming from Central Jail. A kid named Arjun. The one who stabbed Virendar Rao four years ago."
Satya turned around. "That kid? He's still alive?"
"Alive and running the place," Murthy said. "He controls the bakery. He has a crew outside. He's the one blocking the land."
Satya's eyes narrowed. "Then kill him. Pay someone inside."
"We can do that," Murthy nodded. "But if we kill him today, his men outside will burn the land records or file a PIL in the High Court. The project will be stuck in litigation for ten years. You know how the courts work. By the time you get the land, the Ring Road project will be moved elsewhere."
Satya cursed. He knew Murthy was right. Land disputes in India were a quicksand; once you fell in, you never got out.
"So what do we do?" Satya asked.
"Negotiate," Murthy stood up, smoothing his expensive suit. "We buy him off. Give him a few lakhs. Let him feel like a big man. Once the land is registered in your name... then we kill him."
Satya stared at the files. He hated paying extortion money. But he loved profit more.
"Go," Satya snapped. "Offer him ten lakhs. If he refuses, tell him I'll burn his jail down with him inside."
Central Jail. The Visitation Room.
This wasn't the general area where prisoners spoke through a wire mesh. This was the "Special Interview Room"—a small, windowless office usually reserved for lawyers.
Arjun sat on a metal chair. He wore his prison whites, but the way he sat—legs crossed, arm draped over the backrest, top button undone—made the uniform look like a statement.
Shiva stood by the door, arms crossed, looking like a statue carved out of black granite.
The door opened. Advocate Murthy walked in, carrying a leather briefcase. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of phenyl.
"Arjun," Murthy said, sitting opposite him. He didn't offer a handshake. "I am Advocate Murthy. Representing Satya Constructions."
Arjun didn't answer. He just watched Murthy with unblinking, calm eyes.
Murthy cleared his throat, unsettled by the silence.
"Listen, kid. You've made your point. You caused some trouble in Puppalaguda. Very impressive. But the game is over. Mr. Satya is a patient man, but his patience has limits."
Murthy opened the briefcase. He pulled out a brown envelope.
"Ten lakhs," Murthy said, sliding the envelope across the table. "Cash. Take it. Call off your dogs. And maybe, just maybe, you survive your sentence."
Arjun looked at the envelope. He didn't touch it.
He looked at Nanda, who was sitting quietly in the corner with a notebook.
"Nanda," Arjun said softly. "What is the projected value of the Puppalaguda land after the government announcement?"
Nanda pushed his taped glasses up his nose. "Based on the current real estate trends in Gachibowli... twenty-two crores, Bhai. Conservative estimate."
Arjun looked back at Murthy.
"Twenty-two crores," Arjun repeated. "And you offer me ten lakhs?"
Arjun laughed. It was a dry, humorless sound.
"You insult me, Murthy. Pick up your change."
Murthy's face hardened. "It's ten lakhs more than you deserve. You are a convict. You have nothing. If you say no, Satya will bury you."
"Satya can't bury me," Arjun leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Because I am the one holding the shovel."
Arjun tapped the table.
"If I keep blocking that land, Satya loses the project. The Minister—Virendar Rao—will be very unhappy if the black money isn't washed in time for the election. Satya needs this deal more than I need money."
Murthy froze. The kid knew about Rao. He knew the politics. This wasn't a thug; this was a player.
"What do you want?" Murthy asked, his voice tight. "Fifty lakhs? One crore? That's impossible."
"I don't want a payout," Arjun said. "I want a partnership."
"A what?"
"Partnership," Arjun said calmly. "I will tell my men to back off. I will ensure the farmer signs the papers tomorrow. I will even provide protection for your construction trucks against local gangs."
Arjun held up five fingers.
"In exchange, I want 5% of the project's net profit. Not a one-time payment. A share. Every rupee Satya makes, I make five paise."
Murthy stared at him in disbelief. "You want equity? You're in jail!"
"That's why I'm cheap," Arjun smiled coldly. "5% is a bargain, Murthy. Think about it. If Satya agrees, the project starts tomorrow. Money flows. If he refuses... the land burns. The Minister gets angry. Satya loses everything."
Arjun stood up. The meeting was over.
"Tell Satya he has twenty-four hours to decide. If the answer is no, tell him to buy a helmet. Because things are going to fall on his head."
Arjun walked out, Shiva following close behind.
Satya's Office. Evening.
Satya listened to Murthy's report. His face turned purple with rage. He threw a glass paperweight across the room, shattering a vase.
"Partnership?! He wants to be my partner?!"
"He knows the numbers, Satya," Murthy said, wiping sweat from his forehead. "He knows about the Minister. He has us cornered."
Satya paced the room like a caged tiger. He was a predator. He was used to eating, not being eaten.
But he was also a businessman.
"If I say no..." Satya muttered. "The project stalls. Rao will kill me."
"And if you say yes?"
Satya stopped pacing. A cruel, dark smile spread across his face.
"If I say yes... the project starts. The land gets registered in my name. Once the papers are signed... the farmer is out of the equation. And Arjun loses his leverage."
Satya looked at Murthy.
"Agree to the deal. Draft a fake contract if you have to. Tell him we accept the 5%."
"You're going to pay him?"
"I'll pay him the first installment," Satya hissed. "To make him feel safe. To make him lower his guard."
Satya picked up his phone. He dialed a number.
"But while he is counting his money... I'm going to clean house."
"Who are you calling?" Murthy asked.
"Billa," Satya said, the name dripping with malice. "The Butcher. He's in Central Jail, serving life for chopping up a rival gang. He hates Arjun. I'm going to pay Billa to turn that bakery into a slaughterhouse."
Satya looked out at the city lights.
"Arjun wants to be a leech? Fine. Let him suck a little blood. Then I'll crush him."
Inside the Barrack.
Arjun lay on his mat, staring at the ceiling.
"He will say yes," Arjun said quietly.
"And then?" Shiva asked.
"And then he will try to kill me," Arjun replied, turning to his side. "Satya is a snake. Snakes don't share food. He will wait until the land is secure, and then he will strike."
"So we prepare?"
"We prepare," Arjun closed his eyes. "Tell the boys to sleep with their shoes on. Peace is over."
The deal was cut. The partnership was signed in blood.
The Leech had attached itself to the host. Now, the host was going to try and burn it off.