"I must say," she murmured darkly, "Welcome to the Oberois' hell, Joshis."
Their eyes widened faintly, a shiver running through what was left of their strength.
With that, Aisha turned, walking out with the others, the heavy metal door slamming shut behind her. Moments later, they were in the car, driving away—towards her and Saad's warehouse.
The entire drive to the warehouse was wrapped in silence.
No one dared to speak—not because there was nothing to say, but because of her. Aisha's hands gripped the steering wheel firmly, her eyes steady on the road. Her silence wasn't loud... it was heavy. The kind that filled the car like smoke—silent but suffocating.
The others exchanged glances.
Arjun caught Divyansh's eyes in the rearview mirror. Veer briefly looked at Rajendra, who simply shook his head. They all knew something had shifted. Something happened back in that cell—something deeper than what she let on. But none of them asked. They knew better. Aisha would speak when she was ready. Pushing her never ended well.
As they neared the warehouse gates, the guards on duty straightened up immediately, recognizing the vehicle.
One of them pressed the remote, and the heavy gates began to slide open.
The second the wheels touched the concrete floor of the warehouse compound, the shift was almost palpable.
Everyone noticed it.
The guards didn't stiffen at her presence—they didn't fumble or salute in fear. Instead, they nodded with crisp respect, moving efficiently into place as Aisha pulled the car into the main bay. One stepped forward, waiting as she got out, while another jogged over to park the car for her.
She handed the keys over without a word, her expression calm, eyes already scanning the place. Not a single person around her showed fear.
It wasn't fear that made them obey her commands. It was loyalty.
Because here, in this space, Aisha didn't have to raise her voice to lead. She didn't have to show dominance—she was dominance. And they followed her not because they feared punishment—but because they trusted her judgement more than their own lives.
Rajendra smirked proudly, observing the subtle way the guards reacted to her. No panic. No second-guessing. Just... faith. Like she had earned it, inch by inch, over time—and now wore it like armor.
It wasn't a throne built on terror.
It was a kingdom carved out of earned respect.
Divyansh jogged to her side, falling into step. "Where are you taking us?"
Aisha was already typing something on her phone as she strode toward the far hallway. "First, I want to check on the man who attacked us," she said flatly. "Then... I'll show you the parcel I received."
Everyone fell into step behind her. No one questioned it.
They moved through the warehouse, the group trailing slightly behind her. Aisha didn't speak, but every movement was precise. Confident. Like this place ran on her pulse.
As they neared one of the reinforced holding cells, the guards stationed there immediately stepped aside, unlocking the door with practiced precision.
Inside, the room was dim. The remaining attackers—the ones who had survived their last ambush—were barely recognizable. Bloodied, bruised, stripped of all arrogance. 
Aisha wrinkled her nose at the stench of blood and damp concrete, crossing her arms.
She turned to one of the guards. Her tone dropped, ice lining every syllable.