Underground League Arena – Location: Classified
The roar wasn't just noise—it was ritualistic. A savage blend of money, bloodlust, and adrenaline. An amphitheatre of shadows where cricket met carnage, where the elite fed off chaos. Billionaires in designer tuxedos mingled with underworld titans, each placing bets on who would survive—not win, survive.
Above the ring, suspended in an octagonal dome of smoke and LED glimmer, digital boards flashed odds, projected kill counts, and player vulnerabilities. The crowd screamed not for skill—but for damage.
And in the heart of it, she walked in.
Aaravi Kapoor.
Her black skin-hugging jersey gleamed under laser lights, the crimson-stitched number #6 slicing across her spine like a ghost—Kavya's number. Her hair was tied in a high ponytail, face smeared with war paint. She didn't just look ready. She looked fatal.
Around her, eleven towering male players—criminals, ex-commandos, disgraced athletes—tightened their grips on metal-crusted cricket bats.
Above, Mira reclined on a crimson velvet couch. Her wine shimmered, almost black in the dim lights.
"She came," Mira purred. "The kitten thinks she can purr in a pit of lions."
Mehul, his cufflinks glinting, leaned forward beside her, his eyes feral.
"Let's see what the girl billionaire is really worth."
Control Room – Vivaan
"You don't get it," Vivaan growled into the comms. "She's not a pawn. She's the f***ing queen on the board."
Beside him, Rafiq, the last hacker in their team, sweat beading on his temples, typed furiously.
"They've encrypted the exit doors. No emergency override. It's a death match, Vivaan."
Vivaan stared at the main monitor. The drone camera zoomed in on Aaravi's face.
She was staring straight at the lens.
Her lips moved.
One word:
"Now."
Vivaan smiled—but it was not relief. It was awe. She wasn't waiting to be saved. She was setting the damn board on fire.
The Match Begins
The first ball came in—a blur of steel, velocity, and cruelty. A sensor-fused core, designed to cause internal bleeding if it hit wrong.
Aaravi stepped forward. Swung.
But she didn't aim at the boundary.
She aimed at the tower.
The cricket ball shattered glass, sparks erupted from the LED control booth above. Alarms rang out. The crowd screamed—not in celebration—but confusion. Chaos unfurled.
The LED boards went dark. Cameras died. The arena lost partial power.
And Aaravi ran—not away. But deeper. Into the belly of the beast.
Locker Room – After the Uprising
He found her behind the steel lockers.
Blood trickled down her thigh. Her breathing was shallow, like a flame barely holding on in a storm. Her black jersey was torn, and one shoe was missing.
She didn't speak.
She grabbed his collar.
Kissed him like she was claiming life before death.
"Take me," she whispered against his mouth. "Right here. Make me feel anything but this f***ing nightmare."
His hands found her waist. Her nails dragged across his skin. They didn't undress—they ripped reality apart.
He slammed her against the locker. She arched into him, raw and demanding.
Every thrust was rebellion. Every gasp was war. She bit his lip until it bled. He gripped her wrists above her head, whispering, "Say it."
"I'm yours," she breathed, "But only until the next siren."
He didn't care. She didn't either.
It wasn't love. It was survival laced with lust. Pain meeting pleasure, two storms collapsing into each other.
When it ended, they lay on the cold floor, sweat-slicked and silent.
"I'm not dying today," she said, lips against his jaw.
"But if I do tomorrow, you'll be the only truth I ever had."
Elsewhere – Syndicate HQ
Veer stared at the screen. Eyes red. Wrists chained. Muscles limp. He wasn't just drugged. He was being shown her pain—as punishment.
"You're not the only brother watching her," Mehul's voice slithered behind him.
Veer turned, teeth gritted.
"She's not your puppet," he hissed.
Mehul didn't blink. "No. But she is the most beautiful chess piece I've ever moved."
He placed a cricket ball in Veer's palm.
It was warm.
Inside: a detonator.
"Let's see how far you'll go to protect your queen."
Final Scene – Mira's Private Suite
Mira walked into frame on a live broadcast.
In the background, eleven masked captains entered behind her—each trained in a different part of the world. Each a killer. Each chosen for a reason tied to Aaravi's past.
"Welcome to the Grand Finale," Mira whispered into the mic.
"Your bloodline versus ours. This isn't just a game now. It's legacy."