The night after Rayyan's first kill, fear gripped his heart tighter than the blood on his hands. Every time he blinked, he saw the lifeless eyes of the man he shot. His fingers still trembled with the memory of the trigger pulling back.
Too scared to face his own home, Rayyan and Faisal accepted Malik and Ameer's invitation to stay at their house for the night.
As they walked through the quiet streets, Faisal turned to the two brothers and asked, "By the way, what are your names?"
"Malik," the taller one said.
"Ameer," the quiet one followed.
"We're brothers. Like you two."
A small smile crept onto Faisal's face. "Not just like us. From tonight, we are brothers. Brothers from another mother."
When they reached Malik and Ameer's home, something felt empty. There were no voices, no footsteps, no warmth.
Rayyan looked around. "Where are your parents?"
"We don't have any," Malik said, his voice calm — too calm for someone talking about his own parents.
"We're orphans. All we have is each other."
Without hesitation, Faisal stepped forward, placing his hands on both their shoulders.
"Not anymore," Faisal said. "From today, you have us too. We're not four people. We're one."
That night, they sat in the small room, sharing stories about life, struggle, and dreams. Four strangers from different paths, now tied together by blood, fate, and survival.
The night passed too fast — but the bond they built would never break.
In the morning, Rayyan rushed Faisal to go home. "We disappeared all night — my father's going to kill us."
As they reached home, Rayyan's father was waiting — concern mixing with relief.
"Where were you both all night?" he asked.
Before Rayyan could speak, Faisal stepped forward with his signature calm. "We were at our friend's house, studying for exams. It got too late to come back."
Rayyan's father narrowed his eyes, but Faisal's calmness always worked. "Alright," his voice softened. "But next time, inform me."
As they were about to go inside, Rayyan's father added, "Oh — Faisal, you had a call yesterday from Qatar. They asked you to call back."
Faisal frowned. "Qatar? But I don't have anyone there."
"Maybe it's something official," Rayyan said. "Call them."
They called the number, putting it on speaker so both could hear.
After a few rings, a voice answered.
"This is Faisal. Someone called me from this number," Faisal said.
"Ah, yes," the voice replied. "I called yesterday. We've been trying to reach you regarding your father."
Faisal froze. "My father?"
"When your parents passed away, all your father's accounts and assets were frozen. Now that we've confirmed you are alive, we are ready to transfer everything under your name — including his government officer compensation package."
Faisal's breath caught. "Government officer? My father wasn't just a businessman?"
"No, Faisal. Your father was a superior officer — a high-ranking hunter assigned to track and dismantle illegal weapons and drug networks across the region. He was a hero in the shadows."
Faisal and Rayyan looked at each other — shocked, confused, proud.
"We'll need your details to process the transfer. Or, if you prefer, we can meet in person."
Rayyan leaned closer to Faisal. "Let's meet at Malik and Ameer's house — they should be part of this too."
Faisal gave the address and they waited.
A black car pulled up in front of Malik and Ameer's house. A man in a clean suit stepped out, carrying a briefcase. His eyes were kind — but they carried the weight of secrets.
After a few formalities, the money was transferred to Faisal's account — more than any of them could dream of. But the man could see the questions in Faisal's eyes.
"Sir," Faisal asked softly, "Can I ask you something? Who was my father, really?"
The man smiled faintly. "You deserve the truth, son. Your father wasn't just a government officer. He was a hunter — the man who hunted the invisible network of arms and drug dealers across Europe and the Middle East. Every time a war started, every time a deal was stopped — it was because of your father."
The man paused. "His death was no accident. It was a planned assassination."
Faisal's heart cracked wide open. "Who?" he whispered. "Who killed him?"
The man's voice lowered, as if the name itself could summon death.
"Daniel."
"Daniel?" Rayyan asked. "Who is Daniel?"
The man's hands clenched around his briefcase. "He is the King Without a Crown. The man who controls every war, every government, every trade in this world. Presidents and Prime Ministers are just his puppets. When he wants a war, there's war. When he wants peace, there's peace. Your father stood in his way."
Faisal's body shook with silent fury. Tears rolled down his face, but his voice was clear. "Thank you for telling me the truth."
The man's expression softened. "Listen, kid. If you ever — ever — think about walking the path your father walked, remember this: No one who stands against Daniel lives long enough to find peace."
The man left — but his words didn't.
As the door closed, Faisal sat down, burying his face in his hands.
"I want him to suffer," Faisal whispered, voice trembling with rage. "I want him to feel the same pain my family felt. I want him to beg for death."
Rayyan placed his hand on Faisal's shoulder. "Brother, we're not strong enough."
Faisal looked up, eyes burning. "We will be. All four of us. Together."
Malik and Ameer stood beside them. "Your war is our war now. Your enemy is our enemy. From today, your fight is our purpose."
Faisal stood, extending his hand. One by one, Rayyan, Malik, and Ameer placed their hands on his.
"No one talks. No one runs. No one dies alone."
That was the moment.
The moment four boys became the future kings of the underworld.
The moment the blood oath was born.
The moment their story truly began.
This was not the rise of criminals.
This was the birth of the Four Dons.
Born from pain. Forged in loyalty.
And destined to burn the world to the ground.
---
End of Chapter 31