17. UNDERGROUND BUSINESS

Murad and Fahad sat at the breakfast table, the morning sun streaming through the large windows, casting a warm glow over the room. They were in good spirits, their laughter filling the spacious dining area as they enjoyed a rare moment of lightheartedness.

"Remember that time we almost missed the flight because of your shopping spree?" Fahad chuckled, recalling an old memory.

Murad grinned, shaking his head. "I don't think so. Because I don't remember anything."

Their banter was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. Hashim entered, his presence immediately commanding attention. The elder man's face was stern, his eyes sharp as they took in the scene before him. Murad and Fahad's laughter faded, replaced by a mixture of surprise and curiosity.

"Uncle Hashim," Murad greeted, standing up. "I didn't expect you back so soon."

Hashim nodded curtly, his expression unreadable. "I returned early. We need to talk."

Murad exchanged a quick glance with Fahad, who raised an eyebrow in silent question. Fahad always accompanied Murad in the absence of Uncle Hashim. He was always handling his other business from side.

They both knew Hashim well enough to recognize the seriousness in his tone. They followed him into the study, a room lined with bookshelves and dominated by a large mahogany desk.

Hashim closed the door behind them, turning to face Murad and Fahad. "Murad, there are things you need to understand about your past and your responsibilities."

Murad felt a pang of unease. The accident that had taken his memory still cast a long shadow over his life, and any mention of the past always brought a mix of anxiety and frustration. He nodded, urging Hashim to continue.

"Before the accident," Hashim began, his voice steady, "you were not the same person you are now. You were cold, calculated, and ruthless in your dealings. It was necessary for the role you played."

Murad's brow furrowed. "What role?"

Hashim took a deep breath. "You are the leader of an underground Mafia group in Goa. This organization controls the legal shipping of goods to prevent illegal products from flooding the market. It's a crucial operation, one that requires a firm hand and an unyielding presence."

The room fell silent as Murad absorbed the information. His mind raced, struggling to reconcile the man he had become with the person Hashim described; Mafia. He was a freaking Mafia. The idea that he had once been involved in such a dangerous and complex world was almost too much to process.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Murad asked, his face tinged with shock and confusion.

Hashim's gaze softened slightly. "We hoped you would regain your memories on your own. But now, with the situation in Goa becoming more volatile, you need to step back into your role. Your presence is required to ensure that no illegal activities are slipping through our control."

Murad felt a surge of overwhelming emotions. The weight of the revelation pressed down on him, making it hard to breathe. He glanced at Fahad, who looked equally stunned but remained silent, letting Murad process the news.

"I don't know if I can do this," Murad admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. His head spun from the sudden revelation of his another personality.

Hashim placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You can. You've done it before, and you have the strength and intelligence to do it again. But you must let go of this new, softer personality. You need to be the man you were before."

Murad nodded slowly, the enormity of the task ahead settling heavily on his shoulders. "I understand."

"Good," Hashim said. "You need to go to Goa as soon as possible. The situation there demands your immediate attention."

As the weight of his uncle's words sank in, Murad felt a renewed sense of determination. The path ahead was daunting, but he knew he couldn't turn away from his responsibilities. He looked at Fahad, who gave him an encouraging nod.

Fahad and Hashim left Murad alone to pack their bags for this new trip. Where shadows of danger loomed around their lives like death. The sudden information of him being a Mafia was something he wasn't able to digest. Padding to his office; from where he worked sometimes, he searched files related to Goa and found some very indigestible information.

He used guns, he fought, he controlled the reigns. In total his hands were tainted red to save the lives of innocents. Since when the Mafia world took this new turn to save the world? Something was not sense. Either, he wasn't informed properly, or there  was something he needed to know before hands.

Fahad entered the study in search if him and dragged to his swivel chair as he plugged in the pen drive into the projector ignoring his confusion.

"Uncle Hashim is busy so he told me to explain this all."

The bright light casted on the projector showing the picture of a heavy bearded with muscled arms adorned with tattoos and grey eyes staring back at them.

"This is Joma D'Souza," pointing at the picture he announced making Murad's interest pique at the information.

"He worked in your disguise but was shot buy someone from the Aplha team."

"We have three teams. Team Alpha, Team Beta and Team Human. The Alpha one is works closely with us. That team is like our right hand. But, still there are somethings we don't let Alpha deal with. Because, trust issues was the top on your list." He grinned at him then went back to his explanation as he nodded at him.

"Joma was shot during one of the meeting. He is demanding your presence but for everyone in the team knows that he is dead." Fahad grinned on Joma's intelligence to catch the intruder.

"Bravo." Murad mouthed as he felt sudden excited listening to all the information and stood up, shoving his hands in his pockets looking out of the huge window as the dark clouds covered the sunshine.

"We are going there, now." He signed raking his hands in his well set hairs and smiled at Fahad. Who silently nodded and called the pilot of his private jet to book their flight to Goa.