CHAPTER - 65

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The abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Dubai stood like a monument to forgotten dreams, its skeletal structure casting jagged shadows across the desert sand. The building had once been a thriving textile factory, but now it served as a different kind of marketplace—one where bullets were currency and blood sealed contracts.

Inside, the air was thick with dust and tension. Shafts of harsh afternoon sunlight cut through broken windows, illuminating particles that danced like ghosts in the suffocating heat. The concrete floor was stained with years of questionable activities, and the walls bore scars from previous negotiations that had gone terribly wrong.

At the center of this desolate arena, two groups faced each other across a makeshift table constructed from shipping crates. The atmosphere crackled with the kind of energy that came right before lightning struck—electric, dangerous, and absolutely lethal.

Madviper—Avyaan Singh Rajvansh—sat with the casual confidence of a ki