Chapter 6 - The Man in the Mirror
The blade of the straight razor scraped rhythmically against Dev’s weathered skin, each stroke peeling away decades of dirt, neglect, and despair. With every clump of grey and white hair that fell to the sawdust-covered floor, the homeless beggar vanished, revealing the sharp, austere bone structure of the patriarch who had once ruled Northern India’s shipping corridors.
Mohan’s hands shook, but his craftsmanship remained true. When the razor finished, Mohan applied a stinging splash of alum, followed by a heavy wool overcoat and a dark navy tailored suit from an unclaimed order dating back to 1998. It was slightly loose around Dev’s gaunt frame, but the breadth of his broad shoulders gave him an imposing, almost terrifying silhouette.
Dev stood before the cracked full-length mirror.
His cheeks were hollow, his skin tanned and weathered like cured leather, but his dark hazel eyes—the very same eyes Meera and Kabir possessed—burned with terrifying clarity. He slipped the silver signet ring onto his right pinky finger; it slid over the knuckle with familiar, heavy precision.
""You look like a specter of judgment,"" Mohan whispered, leaning heavily on his wooden cane.
""I am not a specter,"" Dev said, slipping the brass bank key into his vest pocket. ""I am the debt coming due.""
""The Imperial Bank will not let you walk in, Devendra,"" Mohan warned. ""The security guards shoot first at men who look like you, and Rajan has spies at every counter. Vikram deposited the ledger in Locker 404 three days before his car brakes were cut. Rajan knows the box exists, but he lacks the key.""
""He doesn't lack the key anymore,"" Dev replied with a faint, cold smile. ""I have it. But Rajan has something else.""
""What?""
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""The widow’s fear,"" Dev murmured, grabbing an antique walking stick with a curved brass handle from the corner of the room. ""And I have exactly three hours to steal it back.""
As he stepped through the burlap door into the blinding afternoon sun, a black motorcycle with two helmeted riders pulled up across the alleyway, their eyes instantly fixating on his polished silhouette.
