The monsoon drizzle painted Priya Reddy's Banjara Hills villa in a soft sheen, its marble floors gleaming under warm lights. Robin Seth sat at a teak dining table, his smartwatch tracking a steady pulse via his AI-driven Ayurvedic app, a testament to his Siddhi-level control. His Fighting instincts, hummed beneath his calm, a black flame flickering in his mind's eye. Priya, in a cream kurta with gold accents, poured filter coffee, her eyes glinting with mischief. You're a ghost in her empire, Robin."
Robin's gaze was steady, fixed on a photo of Tara on his phone. "Her empire's not my fight," he said, voice dry. "Tara is."
Priya leaned closer, her kurta fluttering. "Oh, you're fighting, alright. Sanjay's team jumping ship? That's checkmate vibes." her sass masking hope.
The villa's doorbell chimed, sharp and urgent. Sanjay Gupta, now a Reddy Ventures ally, opened the door, revealing Daniel Fernandes, Aisha's younger brother, his designer jacket soaked, his face twisted with arrogance. "Robin," Daniel barked, striding in. "Ma's stomach condition's killing her. You made her medicine for years—get it now. Don't play games."
Robin's eyes narrowed, his calm unshaken. "I told you I'd get it to Margaret, Daniel. It's on the way."
Daniel scoffed, his sneer pure Fernandes entitlement. "On the way? You're a stay-at-home nobody, Robin. Ma needs that medicine yesterday. You owe us—always have." His words dripped with disdain, blind to Robin's past. A decade ago, Robin had bankrolled Daniel's startup, pulling strings in Hyderabad's underworld to secure his first clients. Now, Daniel saw him as a servant, not a savior.
Robin stood, his frame taut, Fighting Style instincts flaring. "Owe you?" he said, voice low, lethal. "I built your company, Daniel. Got you clients when you were begging. You're nothing without me."
Daniel laughed, stepping closer. "Nothing? You're the one Aisha dumped! A loser living off Priya's charity. Get the medicine, or I'll—"
Slap. Robin's hand cracked across Daniel's cheek, swift and precise, the sound echoing. Daniel stumbled, eyes wide, clutching his face. "You hit me?" he sputtered, fury mixing with shock.
Sanjay stepped forward, his fists clenched, loyalty to Robin blazing. "Say that again, Fernandes," he growled, but Robin raised a hand, restraining him.
"Enough, Sanjay," Robin said, his gaze piercing Daniel. "I'm done with your family's games. Post-divorce, I owe you nothing."
Aisha burst through the door, her black dress sharp against the villa's warmth, her face a storm. "Robin, you've gone too far!" she snapped, witnessing the slap. "Hitting my brother? You're unhinged!"
Priya jumped in, her kurta shimmering as she faced Aisha. "Unhinged? Your brother stormed in, throwing insults! Robin sir's done more for you than Daniel ever will. Back off, Aisha di." Her defense was fierce, deepening the rift.
Aisha's eyes flashed, but Daniel's red cheek fueled her rage. "Robin, give us Ma's medicine—and the formula," she demanded, her voice softer, appealing to old ties. "For Tara's sake, for family."
Robin's laugh was cold, cutting. "Family? Margaret called me a failure for years, Aisha. Said I was beneath you. I made her medicine out of duty, not love. You want it? Fine—I sent it. The formula? Never." His refusal was steel, his former devotion now ash. The Fernandes family, once his world, was nothing but dust.
Aisha froze, her usual tactic—melting Robin with her gaze—failing. His indifference shook her. She'd expected him to relent, as always. "You're heartless," she whispered, but her voice wavered, Margaret's crisis looming. "Ma's dying, and you'd let her suffer?"
"I'm saving her," Robin said, his tone flat. "But I'm done being your crutch. You and Daniel—deal with your own mess."
Sanjay's eyes flicked to Robin, his restraint a silent vow. "We've got your back, Robin sir," he said, voice low. "No matter what."
Daniel, still rubbing his cheek, glared. "You'll regret this, Robin. Ma's life, Tara's custody—you're losing everything."
Aisha's resolve hardened, but doubt crept in. Robin's shadow—his medicine, his allies, his past—loomed large. "Process the medicine delivery," she told Daniel, voice cold. "But we're done with him."
As they left, Robin's phone buzzed—a text from an unknown number: "Naga's Son knows you're moving. Meet me, or trouble finds you." Robin's gaze darkened, his Don Robin fire flaring. Aisha's crisis was her own; his fight was just beginning.