"Veer ji..."
He turned, his gaze still guarded.
"I am not talking about this... I am talking about the mistake I did."
Veer's eyes sharpened, a flicker of pain crossing his features.
"Not even in my life."
Sanjana's heart sank, but she knew she...
*I love you more than words can wield the matter, Dearer than eyesight, space, and liberty.*
•••••
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AUTHOR POV
The study was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the desk lamp casting long, quiet shadows over Veer's sharp features. He sat in silence, the faint ticking of the antique wall clock the only sound in the room. The wound on his side ached under the bandage, but his mind was elsewhere — sharp, alert, and waiting.
His secure phone buzzed on the table.
He picked it up instantly.
“Talk,” he said.
A calm but urgent voice replied, “We got a name. The man behind the ambush — his name is Dario Moretti.”
Veer’s fingers slowly curled into a fist.
“Moretti...” he muttered, eyes narrowing. “He used to run guns for the Toscano cartel.”
“Exactly,” the voice continued. “He’s been building a side network ever since Ricci’s fall. This attack wasn’t just a hit — it was a message.”
Veer stood from his chair, walking slowly toward the window, staring out into the dark courtyard.
“Where is he?”
“Florence. Hotel St. Regis, under an alias. He’s guarded. Two men minimum. But he won’t be there long.”
Veer’s voice dropped to a low, dangerous tone. “Don’t make a move. Just keep him in place. I’m coming.”
“Yes, sir.”
The call ended.
Veer stood still for a moment, the weight of the name Dario Moretti anchoring deep into his thoughts. It wasn’t just about the ambush. This was old blood — unfinished business.
He turned back to his desk, opened the drawer, and pulled out a slim, locked case. With a click, it opened, revealing a sleek, customized pistol — cold, silent, and deadly.
He loaded it with practiced ease.
No words. No hesitation.
Tomorrow, he would go to Florence. And Dario Moretti would answer for everything.
*****
VEER'S POV
I arrived in Florence just after sunset. The city’s streets were washed in amber light, but I wasn’t here to admire the beauty. My car pulled up two blocks from Hotel St. Regis — a quiet, high-end building in the heart of the city.
