Tracking the voice, they locked onto a dude in a loud checkered shirt stumbling out of another room, phone clutched in his grip—obviously ducking out for a call. A skeevy sidekick slinked behind him.
"Hey, boss, these ain't the club chicks—probably just some rich girls here to party," the skeevy guy said, flashing a greasy grin.
"Guests? Sweet—way fresher than the pros. Go snag 'em for drinks," the checkered-shirt guy barked, shoving his lackey forward.
The creep didn't flinch, hustling over to Anirudh's crew with a slimy smile for Eleanor and the rest. "Ladies, how about a few rounds with us?"
He kept it smooth—knew the Royal Club crowd wasn't small fry, no point in pissing them off out the gate.
"Pass…" Eleanor flicked her hand and strutted off.
The guy's face twisted.
"Don't make me play hardball, ladies," his tone iced over as he threw an arm up to block Anirudh's group.
Eleanor and the crew froze, thrown. This kind of ballsy move at the Royal Club? They'd been here a ton—never seen this shit before.
"What if we all say no dice?" As Aurora and the others debated calling security, Anirudh stepped up, a smirk tugging his lips.
The creep blinked—didn't expect this kid to pipe up. He sneered. "No dice? Ain't your choice, pretty boy."
"Yeah?" Anirudh's grin sharpened. He didn't let the guy finish, unloading a lightning-fast right hook. The creep didn't even twitch before the fist smashed his cheek, dropping him like a sack.
A meaty "bang…" ripped through the night.
That smack jolted Eleanor, Aurora, and Laila half-sober on the spot. They stared, slack-jawed—especially Aurora and Amy. This chill kid was turning into a brawler, swinging without a peep or a clue who he was hitting. Wild.
Laila's eyes sparked with shock, then flicked to scorn. Eleanor was all class—how'd Anirudh turn out this reckless? Fists first? That's a fix?
If it weren't for Eleanor, she'd bounce. Only Estella's gaze lit up, her head buzzing: Dude's got guts!
The creep's wail yanked the checkered-shirt guy off his call. Spotting his goon down, he lost it.
"Who the fuck's hitting my guy? You dead, kid!" Roaring, he snatched a chunky vase from the doorstep and winged it at Anirudh.
"Anirudh, heads up…" The flying vase burned off Eleanor's last buzz. She lunged, wrapping him tight to tank the hit.
"Eleanor, I can't swing with you on me!" Anirudh groaned inside but hooked her waist, spinning them fast. His leg whipped out, a slick roundhouse cracking the checkered-shirt guy's gut. The dude sailed back, vase slipping and smashing to bits…
The crash pulled eyes from the room. The checkered-shirt guy's door flew open, and a pack of clowns in loud getups spilled out. Seeing their boss eating dirt, they hollered, "Boss…"
"Son of a bitch hit me—kicked me! Slice him up, now!" the checkered-shirt guy howled, clawing up with his crew's help.
His scream lit their eyes with venom. Knives flashed out, and they closed in on Anirudh, step by menacing step.
"Kid, you fucked up the boss—you're toast…"