Priya Reddy's laugh was sharp enough to cut through the thumping bass of Neon Nights, her simple white top and jeans glowing under Gachibowli's neon haze. The bar pulsed with Hyderabad's nightlife—DJ beats, Tollywood posters, and the faint spice of biryani lingering in the air. Outside, the monsoon drizzle painted the streets, reflecting the city's skyline like a wet canvas.
"Aisha di, are you serious?" Priya said, her voice dripping with mock pity. "Your precious First Love's in hot water, and you're begging your ex-husband to fix it? That's bold, even for you. Have you no shame?"
Aisha's face burned, her words caught in her throat. She couldn't counter Priya's jab, but her eyes locked on Robin Seth, fierce with expectation. "Robin, did you hear me?" she demanded. In her memory, Robin had always bent to her will, a quiet anchor who never said no.
Robin's smartwatch buzzed softly, his AI-driven Ayurvedic app tracking his steady pulse amidst the chaos. "I heard you," he said, his tone as cool as a Hussain Sagar breeze.
"Then move!" Aisha snapped, her voice tight with panic. Vikram was in deep trouble, and she couldn't shake the image of him crumbling under Vicky Sharma's goons.
"Sorry, I'm busy drinking," Robin replied, lifting his glass with a smirk that could've chilled the bar's fiery cocktails. "No time for your drama."
Aisha froze, her expression twisting into a scowl. "Robin, why are you targeting Vikram? I told you, our divorce has nothing to do with him! Why can't you get that? I never thought you'd be this selfish!"
"Aisha di, that's your First Love's mess, not Robin's!" Priya shot back, her eyes flashing. "He wanted to play hero, but he's got no spine to back it up. He deserves this!" She couldn't stand seeing Robin blamed for Vikram's idiocy, not after everything he'd done for Aisha.
Robin shook his head, his interest in the night fading. "Let's go, Priya."
Priya looped her arm through his, her grin defiant as they headed for the exit. Aisha stomped her foot, frustration boiling over. Robin's coldness stung more than she'd expected.
"Save me, Aisha!" Vikram Malhotra wailed, his voice cracking as Vikrant "Vicky" Sharma's dagger glinted under the bar's lights. The thought of losing a limb—or worse—had him shaking like a leaf in Hyderabad's monsoon.
Aisha fumbled with her phone, scrolling through contacts, but every call ended the same: the name "Vicky the Scholar" made even her heaviest hitters back off. For the first time, she felt the weight of her own limits, a sinking realization that her network leaned heavily on Robin's old connections.
Vikram, pinned by Vicky's goons, saw Robin and Priya passing by. His face twisted with desperation. "Vicky bhai, it's them!" he shouted, pointing at Robin. "Priya's perfect for you—a real stunner! And it was Robin who told me to slap your guy. I'd never dare disrespect you otherwise! He's the one who doesn't take you seriously!"
The bar's chatter dropped, eyes swiveling to Robin and Priya. Vicky's gaze narrowed, his mind snagging on something familiar about Robin's name and stance, though he couldn't place it.
"Stop them!" Vicky ordered, and Arjun "AJ" Rao stepped forward, blocking Robin and Priya with a cocky grin.
"What's this about?" Priya demanded, her voice icy, though her eyes sparkled with defiance.
AJ leered, sizing her up. "Vicky bhai, she's a knockout! Perfect for you!"
The crowd hooted, egging him on. Priya's glare could've melted steel, but she softened, pressing closer to Robin with a playful pout. "Robin, I'm scared…" Her tone was teasing—she'd faced worse than this and knew Robin could handle it blindfolded.
Robin sighed, gently nudging her back. He knew Priya's strength—she'd survived a trafficking ring, thanks to him, and wasn't fazed by this small-time drama.
Vicky stepped forward, his tailored suit sharp against the bar's neon glow. "This guy says you told him to hit my man," he said to Robin, nodding at Vikram. "That true?"
Robin's eyes were steady, his Fighting instincts humming beneath his calm exterior. "No," he said simply, his voice carrying a quiet authority.
"Vicky bhai, don't buy his lies!" Vikram pleaded, clutching at straws. "He put me up to it! Ask Aisha—she was married to him!"
"Married?" Vicky's gaze flicked between Aisha, Vikram, Robin, and Priya, piecing together the messy web. "What a tangle." He turned to Aisha. "Is it true? Did he tell your boy to start this?"
Aisha's instinct was to shake her head, but Vikram's desperate cry cut through. "Aisha, tell the truth! Don't hide it, or I'm done for! They'll break me!" His eyes welled up, fear stripping away his bravado.
Aisha hesitated, her gaze meeting Robin's cold stare. Anger flared—she shouldn't have to beg him. "Robin told Vikram to do it, but he didn't mean it," she said, her voice low, regret hitting her the moment the words left her mouth. She couldn't look at Robin.
"Got it," Vicky said, his smile thin. "I'm a reasonable man. AJ, give Malhotra three slaps and let him go."
"Done!" AJ swaggered over, delivering three sharp slaps to Vikram's face—crack, crack, crack!—leaving bloody prints on his cheeks. Vikram looked like a beaten street dog, head bowed as the goons released him.
Vikram staggered to Aisha, muttering, "Aisha, let's get out of here. I'll make them pay later, but we can't stay." His pride was in tatters, but he clung to the hope of revenge.
"What about Robin?" Aisha whispered, glancing back.
"He's nothing to you now!" Vikram hissed. "If we don't leave, we'll be next!"
Aisha wanted to explain, to take back her words, but Robin's indifference stopped her cold. As they passed, Vikram glared at Robin. "You're dead, Seth!"
Priya leaned close to Aisha, her whisper sharp. "Thanks, Aisha di. I thought I'd never get a shot with Robin, but your stupidity's given me an opening. Promise me you won't cry when the divorce is final."
Aisha's blood boiled. She and Priya had always clashed, and this was pure provocation. "Regret? I don't want him," she snapped. "You don't need to cozy up to Robin just to get under my skin. It's pathetic."
Brushing past Priya, Aisha stormed out with Vikram, but he paused at the door. "Aisha, let's go back and watch Robin get what's coming to him," he said, his voice bitter. Humiliation burned—he needed to see Robin fall to feel whole again.
"Why'd you frame him?" Aisha asked, her tone sharp.
"I had no choice!" Vikram pleaded. "They'd have torn me apart! Robin's got a past—maybe he can handle it. Besides, I did it to protect you."
"No more of that," Aisha warned.
"Never again," Vikram promised, already plotting. "Give me time to settle in Hyderabad, and I'll make Vicky Sharma beg for mercy."
They slipped back into Neon Nights, taking a shadowy corner booth. "I hope Robin's okay," Aisha murmured, worry flickering in her eyes.
"Let's see him lose an arm or two," Vikram muttered, his spite venomous.
Back at the bar, Vicky faced Robin. "You ordered that hit on my guy. I need an explanation."
"What kind do you want?" Robin asked, his voice calm, his app silently tracking his vitals.
"Lose a limb, or…" Vicky's eyes flicked to Priya, "leave her and go."
AJ grinned, leering at Priya. "She'd make a fine sister-in-law!"
"Vicky bhai's queen!" the goons chanted, the crowd hooting.
Priya didn't flinch, clinging to Robin with a playful smirk. "Robin, I only want to be yours…" Her tone was teasing, but her grip was firm—she trusted him completely.
Robin sighed, easing her back gently. "Vicky, it's been a decade, hasn't it? You've gotten bolder."
Vicky froze, his eyes narrowing. "Wait… this voice, this tone .....