Dawood’s POV
How could I have been so careless? Pretending to live a typical life didn’t mean I actually had one. Everything I’d built over the past few decades amounted to nothing but rivalry, enemies, danger, and the looming threat of death. At every corner, one wrong move, and people were out to get me. I had control, but I was still human—not immortal.
I didn’t realize how tightly I was gripping the steering wheel until it felt like it might snap in my hands. My eyes sharpened at every turn, and I sped up, desperate to reach the safer side. I slammed the brake, never losing sight of the road. My senses were hyper-focused, anticipating danger that could strike at any moment.
Sudden, uneven breaths snapped me out of my thoughts. I glanced to my right and mentally cursed myself. How could I have forgotten?
She’s not used to this. Hell, she doesn’t even know me!
I looked left and saw the restaurant—it was more of a small café, serving food and beverages. Her face was frozen in shock. I reached over and tapped her cheek gently.
“You’re—” She pointed toward the window, her hands trembling. I didn’t know what could comfort her at this moment. I’d never been the comforting type. The world I lived in didn’t care for such things.
I tapped her face again, hoping to bring her out of her daze. The whole situation—the need for more information on the families and a spy inside—meant I was putting them in danger. But honestly, I didn’t care. People were driven by money—rich or poor, it was all the same. Even me. Some lives mattered, though mostly out of selfish reasons, while others were disposable, like tissue paper.
I looked at her deeply. Words wouldn’t help her now, but something told me I had to get her home safe. If not, I’d have one more reason holding me back from going heavens.
“You’re safe,” I said, awkwardly patting her head.
“There were some shootings earlier today, they happen here - you know different groups attacking etc ..anyways I’ll to make sure you got home safe,” I continued, trying to explain. “I’m sorry I couldn’t respond to you sooner.” I furrowed my brow. She had no reason to fear me.
What am I even saying? She shouldn’t be here with me. Let alone not fear me .What was this play pretend getting to my head.
************
I dropped her off after we grabbed some food. Well, I did most of the eating. Poor woman barely touched her plate, though later she tried to play it off—said she might’ve panicked a bit, but was fine because her aunt used to tell her fires pop up randomly around here all the time. That saves me. Otherwise I’d have proved her doubts and anxieties to be right.
I'm just glad we made it without her having to see me pull the guns I had tucked beneath my oversized hoodie. Biting into my nails, I clenched my fists slammed the warehouse door open. The familiar stench hit me like a punch—smoke, dim lights, empty cement walls echoing with the filth I’ve never managed to shake. How could I forget this rotting pit I call my own?
“Kamal! Reid!” I roared.
“Where the hell are you hiding?”
I handle the deals. People know my face. But now, here I am, getting fired at in broad daylight? Who the hell thinks they can do that? Who dares to cross me like this?
Reid stumbled out from the room at the far end, letting out an exasperated sigh. He scratched his stomach lazily, his tall figure half-exposed with his shirt riding up. A yawn took over his drowsy face.
My lips pressed into a thin line. Without thinking, I grabbed an empty glass bottle and hurled it across the room. Reid dodged, glaring at me.
I exhaled, sinking onto the sofa. Not long after, my head hit the table in front of me with a dull thud. This fucker. My skull throbbed with sharp pain, and the hot smoke burned the back of my neck.
“Listen here, you fucker,” I laughed, throwing him a sidelong glance. “No one wakes me up like that.”
Reid raised an eyebrow, his calm expression almost mocking. “I’m not the source of your frustrations, and you’re not taking it out on me. Got it?” His voice was low, almost like a threat.
I grabbed his arm and twisted it, slamming him to the ground with a crash against the table. "How about you wake up now?" I grinned, eyes cold and unmoved. "I’ve got questions to ask... and blood to spill."
He spat out his cigarette, slapped his knees, and pushed himself up. Standing at six feet, his sheer bulk made him look even bigger. We’d known each other since he was twelve—I’d trained him. Sure, part of me knew he might be stronger now, but loyalty was something I had earned from him. He wouldn’t cross me, not out of honor.
He dropped down beside me, yawning again.
“So,” I said, leaning in, voice sharp.
“Spill.” I ordered.
“Why did you get involved with something like a mere business share deal yourself?” Reid raised his brows, a mix of disbelief and irritation on his face.
“Honestly? I was bored…” I grinned, clasping my hands behind my head.
“Good job, fucker. Messing up the lives of commoners when you're bored?”
“New hobby,” I said, wiggling my eyebrows.
“Anyways, those commoner gang kids near the hidden green bar?” I nodded.
“Those kids know nothing about us, so they decided to mess around,” Reid said.
“I doubt it,” I replied, my tone turning grave. “Do you really think a common group of people could track me down and fire at me in broad daylight?” My eyebrows knitted in confusion and doubt.
Reid choked on his spit. “And when did that happen?”
“This morning, while I was out,” I answered.
“No—WHAT?!” he yelped.
“What the fuck are you doing out in broad daylight?”
“Shopping…” I scratched my temple, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.
“No, wait…wait, wait,” he got up, rubbing his face as the sleep visibly left him. “You went out? Shopping?”
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I nodded.
“In the day!”
I nodded again.
“You got fired at?!” he yelled, sounding like an angry mother.
“And why do we not know any of this?” He pointed at himself and Kamal.
“I’m working on a case,” I responded.
“Yeah, I know—just for fun!”
“So what’s the problem now? Did dying of boredom not work?” His voice dripped with frustration and presumably anger.
“There was a girl with me…” I whispered.
“Oh my God.” His hands shot up to his head. “Why do I feel like my son got married without telling me, and I’m the pissed-off father? No, but seriously, what’s wrong with you? And who is this girl?”
“You know the case I’m working on. I was spying inside a house and met this girl. Her aunt thought I was working there and sent her with me to shop during that time we got fired upon.”
“Do we have one more dumb character in the story? Why did her aunt send that poor girl with Dawood fucking Ahmed?”
“Oh lord, drinks won’t do! I need coffee!”
“KAMAL! COFFEE, PLEASE!” he yelled out miserably.
Moments after I explained everything Reid paced around the room , did 20-30 pushups and had two cups of coffee. He was also mad I got some civilized people involved .
“Alright , I’ll look into it”
“We haven’t intervened in shipments yet so the danger isn’t coming from Taiju or Jhang’s since they don’t know of anything yet “He bit his lips almost bleeding .
“ I have someone else in suspicion but ill make it hundred percent surety and make adjustments “I nodded .
“Also call few of our men , I sense some danger , we need more people around here “
He nodded.
A few days passed. I kept the wedding dates in mind. The plan was simple—kidnap the bride, force Aswad to sign over the house and the two branches in Pakistan to Rahim’s son, or to Rahim himself. Then we’d return the bride, unharmed. I’d have done that regardless; I wasn’t about to let anyone lay a hand on her. That’s not how I handled things.
Besides, the guy wasn’t exactly on my hit list. Aswad was decent. I didn’t harm civilians unless they posed a threat to me or my business. This was just a deal—a bit of pressure, nothing else.
The sound of motorbikes outside yanked me from my thoughts. I moved toward Reid’s room. It wasn’t really his, just where he hung out when we were here. He had a furnished place elsewhere, bought with the black money we couldn't leave idle.
Before I could touch the door, it swung open. Reid’s face was pale, his hand wrapped tightly in a blood-soaked cloth.
"Those aren’t our men," he spat, his breath coming fast. His other hand shook slightly from the blood loss.
This crazy bastard. No time to ask why or how. I darted for the basement, grabbing the essentials. No time for fancy gear—we kept things lean here for a reason. I threw on a bulletproof vest over my white shirt and strapped two guns on the left, one on the right. A few knives went into the belt, tight against my bare skin.
“Not fancy, huh?” I muttered, smirking.
“Hide! Hide! Hide!” I yelled as I burst back upstairs, the thrill of chaos pounding in my veins.
Bikes were lined up outside, and then—BAM. The front door smashed open. Black jackets, flashy guns. Not our men.
Reid stood his ground, blocking their view of me as I eased myself into the sofa, arms sprawled.
“We don’t offer tea here,” I winked.
The brawl exploded in seconds. Gunfire erupted, causing my laughter to ring through the air.
“One would think a playground opened up, you assholes!” I shouted, dodging bullets with ease.
Our men crashed through the windows, and the stench of blood filled the warehouse. I fired twice with the Glock 21, watching their expressions shift to panic.
“That’s no way to enter someone’s place,” I seethed, pulling the trigger again. One of their men went down, clutching his forearm. Just enough to get him talking.
Reid caught my eye, towering over a man nearly twice his size, fists gripping his collar. I dragged one of their men forward, a big guy like me, and shoved the barrel into his fresh wound. His scream echoed.
I dragged one of their men toward me, a big guy, his size almost matching mine. I shoved the barrel of my Glock into the bullet wound on his arm, leaning in as his scream tore through the room.
"Who sent you?" I growled, my voice low, dangerous. "Right answer, and you walk out of here."
His eyes widened, but before a word could leave his lips, a sharp pain exploded in my side.
Crack. The sound of the gunshot barely registered. For a second, I didn't feel anything but the dull thud of impact. Then, like ice spreading under my skin, the pain came, sudden and deep.
I stumbled, my knees threatening to buckle, hand instinctively pressing against my ribs. Warm blood trickled through my fingers, staining the white of my shirt a dark crimson.
My breath hitched. Everything around me slowed, the chaos of the warehouse fading into a blur of muffled shouts and gunfire.
Not now. Not fucking now.
I clenched my teeth, forcing myself to stay upright. The Glock felt heavier in my hand, my vision blurring at the edges. I could taste the metallic tang of blood in the air, feel the pulse of pain with every heartbeat.
I glanced down at the wound—small, but deep. Too close to something vital for my liking. I gripped tighter, ignoring the sting. I couldn’t afford to fall here. Not now. Not in front of these bastards.