CHAPTER 4

The ballroom had turned into a warzone in mere seconds, and the once-glamorous party was now in shambles. Guests, dressed in their finest gowns and tuxedos, scrambled for cover, hiding behind ornate pillars or flipping tables to shield themselves. Glasses shattered on the floor, and the echoes of bullets rang out over the frantic screams.

Sonam and Aarav crouched behind the bar, guns drawn. The weight of the moment pressed on them, but they were no strangers to danger. They thrived in it.

Aarav peeked over the edge of the counter, scanning the masked attackers as they moved methodically through the room. "Five men," he muttered, analyzing their movements. "Two at the entrance, three covering the exits. They're here for someone."

Sonam gave him a sharp look. "Or something."

Aarav’s eyes flicked to her. "Or someone like you."

She didn’t flinch, her face remaining impassive. “Or you.”

Vishakha, on the other side of the room, was already in action. Her movements were swift, deadly, as she disarmed one of the attackers with ease. She’d moved so quickly that by the time the man realized his gun was gone, Vishakha had already cracked him across the face with the butt of the weapon, sending him crashing to the ground. The sound of bone breaking was drowned out by the chaos around them.

Aarav watched her, impressed. "Your friend’s not bad."

Sonam smirked, keeping her focus on the enemy. "She’s better than ‘not bad.’ She’s lethal."

"I’ll keep that in mind," Aarav replied, his tone casual despite the situation. His eyes followed the remaining assailants. "We need to split them up."

Sonam nodded in agreement. "On three."

Without waiting for his response, she counted down. "One... two... three!"

They moved as one. Aarav sprang from his hiding spot, firing two quick shots that took down one of the attackers near the entrance. His movements were fluid, precise, the mark of a man who had spent his life in situations like this. Sonam dashed in the opposite direction, her gun aimed at the two men guarding the exits. She fired with deadly accuracy, dropping one instantly with a shot to the chest.

The second man raised his weapon, but Sonam was already too quick. She ducked low and fired again, the bullet grazing his shoulder. He staggered back, clutching the wound, but before he could recover, Sonam closed the distance between them. With a swift kick, she knocked the gun from his hand and followed it up with a punch to his jaw that sent him sprawling.

Across the room, Vishakha was holding her own, having already incapacitated another of the attackers. She stood over his unconscious body, her eyes scanning the room for the remaining threats.

The battle was over as quickly as it had begun. The last of the masked men crumpled to the floor, blood pooling beneath him. The guests, still hiding behind overturned tables and furniture, slowly began to emerge, their faces pale with fear. The once grand party had turned into a massacre, and the ballroom was littered with broken glass, bullet casings, and unconscious bodies.

Aarav and Sonam stood amidst the wreckage, their guns still raised, breathing heavily from the intensity of the fight. Their eyes met, and for a brief moment, neither of them said a word. There was a newfound respect between them—born not just from their shared danger, but from witnessing each other’s lethal precision in action.

Vishakha, now standing beside Sonam, gave a low whistle. “Well, that escalated quickly.”

Sonam holstered her gun, glancing around at the aftermath. "This wasn’t random," she said, her voice low but laced with certainty. "They came here with a purpose."

Aarav nodded, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow. "And the timing wasn’t coincidental. Whoever sent them knew exactly when to strike."

Vishakha’s eyes narrowed, her mind already working through the possibilities. "You think they were after one of us?"

"Most likely," Aarav replied. "But the question is, who sent them?"

The crowd around them had begun to stir, whispers spreading as people pieced together what had just happened. Some had already fled, but others—those who belonged to the mafia world—lingered, their gazes fixed on Sonam, Vishakha, and Aarav. In this world, weakness was death, and they were all calculating their next moves.

Sonam’s attention shifted to the masked men, still lying motionless on the ground. Her gaze sharpened. “We need to find out who these men are working for.”

Aarav smirked, glancing down at one of the bodies. “That won’t be too hard.”

With a swift motion, he knelt down and ripped off one of the attacker’s masks. The man was young, maybe in his early twenties, with dark hair and a tattoo just visible on his neck—a black snake curled around a dagger.

Vishakha’s eyes narrowed at the sight. “I’ve seen that before.”

Sonam’s expression darkened. “So have I. It’s the mark of the Black Serpent Syndicate.”

Aarav stood, his expression serious. “The Black Serpents? They’ve been lying low for years. Why would they make a move now?”

Sonam’s mind raced as she processed the information. The Black Serpent Syndicate was a notorious underground group that had gone quiet in recent years. But if they were resurfacing now, at a gathering of the most powerful mafia families, it could only mean one thing: they were making a play for control.

“They want a piece of the pie,” Sonam muttered, her voice hard. “And they’re willing to start a war to get it.”

Vishakha crossed her arms, her eyes still scanning the room. “So, what’s the plan? We can’t just let this slide.”

Aarav glanced at Sonam, a glint of steel in his gaze. “We hit back. Hard.”

Sonam met his eyes, her mind already strategizing. “Agreed. But we need more information. We need to know who’s pulling the strings behind this attack.”

Aarav nodded. “I can reach out to my contacts. The Black Serpents have been quiet for a reason. Someone’s giving them orders, and I intend to find out who.”

Vishakha chimed in. “We’ll need to tread carefully. If we make a move too soon, we could be walking into a trap.”

Sonam nodded, her gaze hard. “We’ll proceed with caution. But make no mistake—we’re not going to let this go unanswered.”

As they stood amidst the wreckage, the tension between them shifted. They were no longer just rival mafia leaders—they were now allies, bound by the need to protect their territories and their people. The attack had changed everything.

Sonam glanced at Aarav, her expression unreadable. “This doesn’t change anything between us,” she said quietly.

Aarav gave her a small smile, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Of course not. We’re still on opposite sides. For now.”

Before Sonam could respond, one of the injured attackers groaned, drawing their attention. The man was barely conscious, blood seeping from a wound in his side, but his lips were moving, as if he was trying to say something.

Vishakha was the first to act, kneeling beside the man and grabbing him by the collar. “Who sent you?” she demanded, her voice ice-cold.

The man coughed, blood spilling from his mouth. “You… don’t… understand,” he rasped, his voice barely audible. “This… is bigger… than you think…”

Sonam knelt beside Vishakha, her eyes narrowing. “What are you talking about?”

The man’s eyes flickered open, his gaze unfocused. “The Serpents… they’re just the beginning…”

Before Sonam could press him further, the man’s body went limp, his eyes glazing over. He was dead.

Aarav cursed under his breath. “Damn it.”

Vishakha stood, frustration evident in her posture. “We were so close.”

Sonam stood as well, her mind racing. The Black Serpents were just the beginning? What did that mean? And who was behind them?

Aarav’s voice broke through her thoughts. “We need to move quickly. If the Serpents are just the start, then whoever’s behind this attack is planning something bigger.”

Sonam nodded, her jaw clenched. “We’ll find out who’s behind this. And when we do, we’ll make them pay.”

Vishakha crossed her arms, her expression cold. “No one threatens us and gets away with it.”

As the three of them stood in the ruined ballroom, surrounded by the aftermath of the attack, there was an unspoken understanding between them. The game had changed. The stakes were higher now, and they would need to be smarter, faster, and more ruthless than ever before.

But one thing was certain—they weren’t going to back down.

Not now. Not ever.

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