Page 8 of The Redemption
At RK Estate, the atmosphere is already buzzing with activity. Guests start arriving in their expensive cars, and bellboys rush to welcome them. Inside, the lobby is filled with excited chatter as suitcases glide smoothly across the marble floor. It’s the familiar scene at this time of day.
That’s when I see him.
Haider cuts through the crowd and heads straight for me. He’s hard to miss. Broad shoulders, old scars half-hidden, and sharp, alert eyes that seem to scan the space as if nothing escapes him. We go back a long way. He was my shield in the life I left behind, the only one who chose to follow me when I walked away from it all. I never asked him to. In fact, I told him to stay out of it and to build a new life for himself. But Haider couldn’t. Ever since I came to RK Estate, he has been right here with me.
Years ago, when his parents were marked for execution by one of the cartels, I was the one who went in alone and brought them back alive. In a single night, I burned down their entire operation and left their leader hanging from a crane by dawn. No one else could have done it. No one elsewouldhave done it.
Since that night, Haider’s life hasn’t been his own. He would give it up for me without a second thought. People here think he’s my chief of security. But truth to be told, he’s my shadow. The one who still has his eyes buried deep in the mafia world. His ears are everywhere, and there are men who still answer to his call. Through him, I know who’s rising, who’s falling, and who’s hunting in the dark.
More importantly, he makes sure no threat from my past crosses into my present. No one can ever find out that the dark prince still breathes, still rules in silence.
And if anyone ever tries to drag me back into that pit, Haider will see them coming long before they get close. That’s why I trust him. Because he makes sure my empire here thrives, while the old world never forgets who I once was.
But today, the moment his eyes lock with mine, my calm cracks. His brisk stride sets off alarms in my head long before he reaches me. This look on Haider… I know what it means.
Something dangerous is already at my door.Or is about to be.
He doesn’t waste time greeting me. He just shoves a folded piece of paper into my hand.
Today’s guest list.
I scan the list, my eyes moving down the names, until one of them stops me cold.
SIYA VARDHAAN.
I hiss under my breath, my gaze snapping to Haider, whose eyes mirror mine, burning with the same frustration.
“The booking came in this morning. Same-day check-in. Paid in full. She has reserved for a month. Alone. Her guards are with her, but no family.”
Alone or not, Siya is a Vardhaan. And a Vardhaan stepping into my estate isn’t a coincidence.It’s is a f*cking war cry.
“I’ve already told our men to—”
I raise my hand sharply, cutting him off before he can finish. Not here. The lobby is buzzing with guests and resort staff. None of them can know what is happening. None of them can know who I was.
My gaze lands on Esha, my resort manager, a bright-eyed local woman with a quiet kind of grace and a smile that never falters, no matter what. The entire place runs as smoothly as it does because of her. The moment I signal her, she rushes to me, her palms pressed together as she bows her head slightly.
“Good afternoon, sir,” she greets warmly, before giving a quick glance at Haider, who seems to be deliberately looking anywhere but in her direction.
I shove the crumpled paper at her. “Cancel Miss Vardhaan’s booking.”
She looks up at me in shock. “But… Miss Vardhaan has booked for an entire month. Her payment is already processed—”
“I don’t care. Refund her in full. Make the call and cancel it,” I cut in, gritting my teeth, keeping my voice low so that no one else can hear us.
She fumbles, visibly confused. “But sir… what excuse will I give her? I can’t just—”
“Tell her the resort is full,” I interrupt her. “Say there’s been a double-booking. I don’t give a damn what story you spin, Esha. Just make sure Siya Vardhaandoes NOTstep foot inside RK Estate.”
The words have barely left my mouth when the sound of screeching tyres slices through the air. All heads turn as five cars storm through the gates. Four black. One red. All sleek and armoured.
The black cars stop first, their doors flinging open. Men in suits, at least a dozen of them, spread out within seconds,forming a wall around the entrance, securing the ground like they f*cking own it. The silver stallion emblem gleams on their cuffs, confirming that they are indeed Vardhaan men.
She’s here!
The lobby freezes. Tourists shrink back, and the staff scramble as the red car door opens, andsheputs her feet onmysoil.
My gaze immediately falls on her sandal.Diamond-studded. Ridiculously expensive, deliberately flaunting power.Then it lifts upwards, tracing her long, toned legs as Siya Vardhaan finally steps out from her car. The red silk of her dress screams power, the slit cut high on one thigh, the neckline plunging low at the front. The silky fabric clings to her shapely curves, the bold colour matching the car she arrived in. As usual, even today, she’s dressed to turn heads. To command attention.
