A quick look :
The crisp night air of Karachi seemed thicker than usual. The city, drenched in its typical hum of activity, had recently felt the weight of a relentless force pressing down on its underworld. Waqas Ahmed, the newly appointed Commissioner, was making waves. Raids, seizures, arrests—all of it targeted the very heart of the Mirs and the Khans. Both families were titans in their domains, but they had learned to keep their hands clean, always operating through intermediaries and trusted men. Yet, Waqas had chosen to strike at the supply chains, seizing shipments, shutting down godowns, and launching targeted operations on docks that supplied the Khans’ and Mirs' operations.
Waqas was no ordinary commissioner. Where others could be swayed by money, greed, or fear, he remained steadfast. His reputation for integrity had earned him both enemies and admirers in equal measure. But Murtasim Khan, the eldest son of the Khans and heir to the dynasty's empire, was neither impressed nor intimidated by mere "honesty."
Khan Haveli – Murtasim's Study
The room was dark, save for a single lamp illuminating Murtasim Khan's stern face. His broad shoulders were tense, the usual calm façade marred by visible irritation. The recent raids were bleeding his operations dry. Shipments delayed, stocks seized—his men were becoming anxious, and his business partners overseas were growing impatient. He paced back and forth before finally stopping near the large wooden desk that dominated the center of the study.
Faisal, his most trusted lieutenant, stood across from him, his hands behind his back, waiting for Murtasim's anger to subside.
Murtasim's voice was low but laced with venom. "We’ve been paying these bastards off for months, Faisal. We ensured their silence, their cooperation. How the hell did this happen?"
Faisal swallowed before answering, careful to choose his words wisely. "We did, Murtasim bhai. The lower-ranking officers—every single one of them was paid handsomely to look the other way. But…"
"But what?" Murtasim’s sharp gaze shot towards him, his brows furrowed in frustration.
"The commissioner. Waqas Ahmed." Faisal sighed. "He’s different. Word on the street is that he’s unshakeable. Doesn’t take bribes, and he’s not the kind of man you can easily intimidate. He’s determined to clean up Karachi, to shut down the mafia… and you, bhai, are his primary target."
For a brief moment, there was silence in the room. The only sound was the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. Murtasim's lips twitched, a smirk forming on his face. His anger shifted to intrigue. "An honest man, you say? Fascinating."
Faisal blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in Murtasim's demeanor. "Bhai?"
"Every man has a price, Faisal. It’s just a matter of finding out what it is. If not money, then perhaps fear. Power. Protection. Everyone bends to something."
Faisal looked unconvinced, but he knew better than to challenge Murtasim's intuition. "What do you want to do, bhai?"
Murtasim leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the armrest. "We pay the commissioner a visit."
Faisal's eyes widened. "You want to confront him? At his home?"
Murtasim stood up, his towering figure casting a shadow over the room. "If he’s truly as righteous as they say, then he’ll need to be reminded of the consequences of crossing the Khan family."
_____
The air in the Khan’s estate was thick with tension. Murtasim stood by the large window of his study, his hands resting on the back of an ornate chair. His sharp eyes watched the horizon as the sun dipped below, casting an orange hue over the vast lands that stretched far beyond the estate. He looked calm on the surface, but inside, a storm was brewing. The constant raids on the docks and godowns had begun to frustrate him, and frustration was not something he tolerated easily. His business, although layered with legitimate fronts, had been hindered by the sudden interference of the police commissioner — Waqas Ahmed.
