This story is not for faint-hearted.
It's for those who have ever dared to underestimate a woman.
"she is a fire~~and she would burn the whole city for her Pride"
She wasn't born with a crown.
She was born with scars, rage and a mind sharper than St...
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8:30 PM — Underground Syndicate Headquarters
The underground hall was a throat-tightening vault of cigar smoke, dark intentions, and history written in blood. Velvet-lined walls ate sound, but the silence inside screamed power. The circular obsidian table at the center wasn't there for polite conversation — it was a war altar.
This was the High Syndicate Meeting. Summoned only when chaos demanded kings and queens sit side by side.
From the southern arch, Abhiraj Singh Rajput entered like a storm folded into calm: a black three-piece, obsidian cufflinks, and a stare that had once quieted an entire room of assassins. Reyaan, his ever-smirking adopted brother, trailed behind him — mischief dressed in tailoring.
"Why do I feel like this is going to be fun?" Reyaan muttered.
"Because your definition of fun includes bullets," Abhiraj replied, dry as ice.
"And your definition of calm includes beheadings. Balance, bhai."
Abhiraj rolled his eyes without denying it.
From the northern archway the rhythm of boots cut the air — every step deliberate, dangerous, elegant.
"Are we late?" Aarav asked, glancing sideways.
"No," Rithika said, her tone cold-wrapped fire. Her fitted coat trailed behind her like a shadow preparing for war. "We're exactly on time to remind them who rules this city."
Aarav let out a short, tight sigh. "I still don't like this. These rooms... they smell like betrayal."
Rithika smirked. "Then let them choke on it."
When she walked in, heads didn't only turn — they lowered. The Queen had arrived. No crown, no throne, only an aura that silenced storms.
As eyes met across the table, the room seemed to inhale and hold its breath for a single beat. The God of Mafia. The Queen of Fire. At the same table. Even the chandelier flickered at the tension.
Reyaan whistled softly. "Now that's a plot twist."
"She's here," Abhiraj said, gaze steady.
"More like she's glowing. Like a Molotov in heels," Reyaan added, grinning.
Aarav noticed Reyaan edging too close to Rithika. "One flirt and I'll throw you out of the syndicate," he muttered.
Reyaan chuckled. "Let me enjoy the view before I die."
"Great. Want me to choose your coffin or—"
"Shhh, she's looking at me. I think she's already fallen for me."
"She's aiming, not admiring."
The hall's old man — grey, measured, the Syndicate's silent mouthpiece — finally spoke. "There's a network at the eastern docks. Human trafficking. Girls. Guns. Money. Larger than before. We need a joint takedown."
