AUTHOR’S POV

"Plea..see k..ill m..e" a voice filled with pain echoed in the dead darkness of the dungeon–save for the low , guttural groans echoing off its damp , concrete walls . Where the only source of light was a bulb, swung from the ceiling , casting erratic shadows .

A man was on his knees . Bleeding . Bruised . Barely conscious . His shirt was ripped , soaked in crimson , sticking to his chest like a second skin . Chains rattled as he moved , wrists bound , face battered beyond recognition……. but for what?

Murder…? No!

Attack…?No!

Assassination…?Still No!

The truth was simpler… and deadlier.

He had gone against him.
The man whispered about ,only in the shadows.
The man feared by even death itself.

VEDANT RAISINGHANIA AKA THE LORD
The Mafia Lord.
The Lord of Hell.

And once you fall into his clutches, you beg for one thing — not mercy, not forgiveness, but death.                                                                                    Because only death can free you from him.

And sometimes… even death hesitates.
Because Vedant doesn’t just punish.
He breaks.

A beast draped in human skin — precise, cruel, and methodical. He’ll flay your soul inch by inch… and somehow, in all that pain, he’ll smile.

And then came the footsteps .

Sharp. Controlled. Echoing with authority.

A man came into view , he had a pair of stormy , ocean-blue eyes, like the sky moments before it breaks into rain . Cold and unreadable at first glance , but the longer you looked , the more they burned . Sharp , intense , always watching , like a predator . His lashes were dark , giving him that effortlessly dangerous look. His brows thick and arched with precision . He didn't speak much , but when he did , his voice was deep and rough , laced with darkness that made your pulse skip . A razor-sharp jawline , clenched most of the time, as if holding back words–or rage . A single twitch of it was a warning sign . Straight , well-defined nose , regal even in its harshness giving him King-like authority . His lips were full but never soft , they were rough like him , always pressed in a thin line not giving a twitch of expression .

Jet black hairs , always styled back with casual carelessness , a few strands sometimes fell over his forehead during a fight - and that's when he looked the most dangerous . He had a warm brown , sun-kissed skin with broad shoulders , sculpted chest , muscles tightly packed as a result of hours in the gym - veins visible down his arms , his forearms were strong , always tense , hinting at the violence he kept just under control. His  6'3'' posture never slouched .

He walked like he owned the ground beneath him–which he actually did .

Dressed in a sharp , jet-black tuxedo tailored to perfection–the kind that speaks before the man does .The fit is lethal: crisp shoulders , clinched waist , and sleeves cut just enough to reveal a flash of cufflink – gold or gunmetal , depending on his mood . The shirt beneath is midnight black , ironed razor-sharp, with the top button open just enough to show he’s in control-always .

And when he walks into the room , silence follows . He’s not here to impress . He’s here to command .

Black leather shoes stopped just inches away from the withering man . 

His face was unreadable, carved from stone and untouched by the filth of the room .

" Why should I kill you ?” Vedant said , voice low and calm , as if discussing the weather .

" Pl.eas..e sir I ha..d been wor..king fo..r y..ou f..rom yea..rs " The man tried to speak while crying in pain , blood spilling from the corner of his mouth , staining the ground .

A swift kick landed on his ribs. The crack echoed. Followed by a hollow chuckle , dark enough to keep you shivering in fear .

He crouched down, eye level now, seethed in a low voice "Still you choose to go against me Sharma" 

The man sobbed , trembling “ I was loyal…I swea–”

“Loyalty” Vedant repeated , tasting the world like poison . “ You sold our information to my enemies. My men are dead because of you” 

“Plea–”

A silencer clicked. The metallic sound sliced through the room like a blade.

Vedant stood back up, calm as ever. “You already died the moment you went against me.”

Without blinking, he raised the gun. One shot. Clean. Right between the eyes.

The body slumped forward. Blood pooled across the stone floor.

He turned, adjusting the cuff of his tux, and spoke to the man behind him, "Feed the body to the crocodiles.”

And with that, he starts moving outside ,his presence as cold and lethal as the silence he left behind.

He was followed closely by a team of guards, all dressed in black tactical gear, their boots echoing like gunshots across the concrete floor.

But walking just behind him, silent as a shadow, was Aarav Shukla — the man known as Vedant’s Right Hand, though in truth, he was so much more than that. 

He has been working with Vedant from the very start of his empire— when it was nothing but a thought which turned into reality for his people….and a storm for his enemies.

Aarav is not just a right hand , he is a blade for Vedant , someone he can trust with every type of his business – legal or illegal , he handles them without any questions .That’s what Vedant liked most about him — his loyalty wasn’t blind..It was absolute.

VEDANT’S POV

"Boss Ishani ma'am called before " Aarav mentioned in his usual calm demeanor, while walking behind me. One hand held out my phone, the other resting loosely at his side.

I took the phone from his extended hand.

"Ishaani takes you as her brother, so don't call her ma'am, " I said in a firm voice.

He nodded in return with a smile threatening to come but he managed to maintain a straight face . Aarav is an orphan , he had never seen his parents face , he was raised by his uncle…but he was a bastard , he used to torture him when he was a kid and only good thing he ever did to let Aarav complete his education .

Now, he doesn't live with them , but a part of him still longed for a family. And my siblings….they made sure he never felt that absence again. 

As we approached the car, a guard stepped forward to open the backseat door. I slid in, unlocking the screen and dialing back Ishaani . Aarav settled in the passenger seat, and the driver ignited the engine. The convoy rolled out , back to the mansion .

Ishaani Raisinghaniya—my little sister, the only girl child in the family and youngest of us all. Despite sharing the same blood we are poles apart. She is everything I’m not— all sunshine and sparkles, a walking burst of chaos and warmth. Where I'm cold, calculated and emotionless…

But don't let her sweetness fool you– she’s mischievous to the core…one thing we had in common–in the past. Her college dean always makes her call me to complain about her endless pranks but poor him only gets my wrath in return . 

Of course I won't scold her for some mere pranks. And frankly, he can't do much either. The college? I own it.

She knows what I am, what I do. She has seen the blood on my hands and the fear in people's eyes when they speak my name. But never once has she looked at me with fear…or disgust.

To her, I am not Vedant Raisinghaniya—The Mafia Lord.

I am simply her Bhai. 

To all the three of them .

"BHAIII!!!!!" 

A high-pitched, overexcited scream rang through the phone the moment the call connected.

"Ishaani, dheere… you’ll tear your throat at this rate" I said in a neutral tone , careful enough not to sound too rough. 

"And our ears too" another voice chimed in–smooth, laid with mischievousness and unmistakingly familiar.

Vivaan Raisinghaniya— two years older than Ishani, my cousin brother .Total dramatic…at least, that's how he is with us. Behind his playful, always–joking facade lives a man far more dangerous than people realize. He hides it well…almost too well.

The two of them had already launched into their usual bickering—nonsense arguments about food, clothes or hell-knows-what…voices overlapping each other, forgetting I was even on the call.

I was able to hear their non stop bickering from the other side, as the car passed the  dense jungle that wrapped around my empire like a noose. The dungeon is built deep within it, hidden from any map—it is a cold underground lair carved into the earth like a tomb. Soundproof, lightless, and soaked in my secrets, it's where enemies vanish, and justice is delivered — in my style.

"Vivaan" I interrupted their useless session, in a stern voice , their chatter died immediately.

"Bhaaaaiiiii….." he whined, drawing the word like a spoiled child. I rolled my eyes. I could already picture Ishaani sticking her tongue out at him, and Vivaan pulling that exaggerated pout he thinks makes him look charming. He thinks is the most charming creation of his God– well I am an atheist and neither did he do something so good in my life to make me believe in him , all he did is snatch from me .

"Ishani you called earlier…everything alright?" I asked, steering the conversation back .Her giggles faded, voice returning to its softer tone.

"Yahh bhaii,everything’s fine. I just…wohh I just called you to….first promise bhai you won't say no "she said, hesitation clear in her voice .

"Have I ever said no to you " I replied to her in a confident tone , that's true I never denied her anything except one .

"Bhai…tomorrow’s my birthday–" " No. I won't be coming to that mansion" I cut her off. I knew exactly where this was going.

That mansion…the place I once called home.

But not anymore. Now it's just a ghost of the past I refused to visit. A wound I never let heal.

Every year , they— and by they, I mean my siblings, because the so-called “elders” of the family know better than to consider themselves relevant in my life. 

They always insist I show up for a family gathering. But I left that family years back and now I don't visit them .

Why would I ? Walking through that house only opens old wounds. Brings back the taste of betrayal. The weight of broken trust.

And worst of all? The ones responsible still live there. Still sit at the same table like nothing ever happened. Like they didn't destroy the family I once loved. The family I once belonged to .

The memories are still sharp. Especially the last time I went there.

It was supposed to be a simple celebration–our grandparent’s anniversary.

I had said no. Clearly. Repeatedly. But the three of them were reluctant, they kept pushing like always. And eventually, I gave in. The event was in a hotel, not that mansion. So I agreed.

But like every time, they—the elders—did the same shitty thing again they are doing from a past decade. The same disgusting, manipulative routine. 

I walked out of that hotel in blind rage. I held myself back, barely. My hand had brushed the gun tucked into my waistband more than once. I wanted to end it right there–by killing someone certain. But I didn't .

Instead , I drove straight to the dungeon. Twenty men were personally delivered by me to hell. Brutally. Maniacally. I tortured them until their screams drowned me out of my thoughts. Until my hands ached. Until my bones trembled. Until I forgot I was angry–but even then, the rage didn't leave.

So I destroyed everything. Furniture. Useless decorations. Glass. Wall.

But none of it helped, the betrayal…stayed.

"Bhai…it's my 21st birthday. You still won't come?" Her voice, soft and hesitant, broke through my thoughts .

I inhaled sharply, grounding myself.

"Ishaani, I'll meet you at our usual place. But I’m not coming there" my tone was controlled, distant. A guard rushed over and opened the backseat door. I stepped out , straightened my coat and began walking toward the mansion.

It wasn't far from the jungle , but it was miles away from the main gate of my empire —ABODE—where thousands of people live beside me, for them this is their home, that’s why I named it so.

"Bhai…you said you’d never deny my wish. And this…this is my birthday wish. Pleaseee bhaiii " she pleaded to me, her voice trembling with hope. 

As much as I don’t want to go there , I can’t make her upset that too on her birthday. I didn't want to go back there, not even for a second. But the truth is—they didn't know what happened last time. They didn't know what it cost me to walk into that place.They didn't know the whole story of the past.

And maybe… that's for the best.

Because by any chance , they came to know what exactly happened in the past. They will not think twice before coming to me…leaving the family behind–just like me.

I’ve already lived in the abyss, felt what it's like to be swallowed by the darkness, to breathe in silence, to look around and find no one—not even yourself.

I’ll never let them fall into that. At least one of us deserves to stay alive…from inside.

I sighed, jaw clenched. "Fine…but only for a little while" 

I told myself I’d hold back. No bullet. No blood. No breaking bones. Just for her birthday.

"Thankkuu bhaiiii!!! I love you the most!!" She chirped in delight and I could already picture her and Vivaan jumping around like maniacs—probably planning everything to make my visit perfect. Like my presence alone meant the world to them.

"Hmm…I’ve got some work to finish. I’m ending the call." I said, already turning toward my room. 

The silent atmosphere of the massive mansion was disturbed by the sharp clinking of my shoes—the only sound breaking the stillness.This silence, deep and absolute, is what I’ve grown used to.  Years of solitude have taught me to embrace it. Calm. Cold. Consuming.

It doesn't just surround me anymore—it runs through me like blood. 

"Okk, bye bhaii!! Good night! " They both shouted in unison–loud, too loud to pierce my ears. 

I hung up after muttering a brief goodbye. The white glow from my phone cast long shadows in the dark hallway, acting like a makeshift torch as I moved ahead. 

I pressed my thumb against the biometric lock. It scanned with a soft beep before the door clicked open. I pushed it gently and stepped in—

DARK.

DEAD.

LIFELESS.

Just like me…..but I like it this way now.

The silence that used to haunt me in the past….now is my all time companion . 

The darkness, from which once I feared …I own it now— I rule it.

Human presence doesn't excite me anymore. It suffocates me. Over these years, I’ve learned not to rely on anyone—except you. The only human presence I can tolerate is my siblings and the men who serve me.

If there’s one kind I’ve come to despise the most, it's women .They are such a gold digger and who*es. For a stack of bills, they’ll throw themselves on anyone, discarding their dignity without a second thought. 

I’ve never hidden my hatred—in fact, people love to obsess over it. They fantasize about some woman who’ll come along and rule over me. Tame me.

As if I’d ever let that happen.

I wasn't born to be ruled— especially not those who*es

‘Meanwhile, Aashi in the corner with a smirk’ 

I placed my phone on the bedside drawer, and headed towards the sofa , unbuttoning my shirt as I walked . It fell on the sofa mattress, joining the coat I’d tossed earlier. Then came the belt, the pants….all discarded carelessly.

I stepped into the bathroom, stripped the last layer of fabric from my skin, and stood bare under the shower .

The hot water poured down like rain in a storm, the steam curling around me like a blanket–thick, warm, almost relaxing. 

For a moment, my muscles loosened, my firm shoulders slumped. The ever-present weight between my brows lifted…just a little.

Peace is rare, even if it lasts only for minutes.

Half an hour later, I let it go. I turned the shower faucet to the other side, closing it. I wrapped a towel around my waist and dried my hair with another, then walked into my closet. After slipping into a pair of sweatpants, I ran a hand through my damp hair, small drops of water falling on my bare shoulder and sliding down my chest.

The door to my home-office connects through my room…I deliberately designed it .

Since sleep is a luxury I can't afford. Whenever I try, the memories claw back in. They don't let me rest….not even for an hour. 

I sat behind the desk, flipped open my Macbook, and dragged the file of the current project closer, lying on the table. The numbers on the screen reflected in my eyes—sharp, focused. 

This project was a crucial one, due to its short deadline–and it is this week. This one is worth billions. And neither I miss deadlines nor my billions. 

A notification blinked onto my screen — Incoming Call: Erwin.

His work is to manage and report to me about all the legal-illegal shipments which we sail across the world.

I slid my thumb across the accept button, connecting the call. 

“Boss, the weaponry ship has departed from the Canadian port,” came Erwin’s voice — steady, composed,straight to topic, as always.

“Hmm... and the raw material shipment? It should’ve reached Valmera Port by now,” I asked, eyes still fixed on the document spread open before me.

“It should have, yes. But a sudden thunderstorm hit them mid-ocean. I spoke to the captain — the skies have cleared, and they’re back on course. They’ll dock at Valmera soon.”

A faint rush of wind filtered through the speaker. He was likely standing on a port — watching, listening, calculating.

“And the crew? The ship?” My voice held no emotion. No concern. Just facts.

“All intact. The ship’s holding well. No casualties.”

“Good,” I muttered, flipping to the next page in the file. “Anything else?”

“No, Boss. That’s all for now.”

I gave a soft hum in acknowledgment, then cut the call.

AUTHOR'S POV

The sun rose, as it always did — calm, predictable, indifferent. It painted the morning sky in soft hues, yet not a single ray could pierce the darkness that had long settled in Vedant’s life. Peaceful dawns meant little to a man consumed by shadows.

In the midst of this darkness, only one thing kept him tethered to life — his siblings, the ones he only adored now in this traitorous world. And now, for his sister, he was willing to walk back into a place he had once called home.

RAISINGHANIA MANSION.

A name that once echoed with laughter, warmth, and belonging. But that illusion shattered in a single moment . Everything — every relationship, every promise — was ripped apart, leaving only betrayal and scars in its wake. The people he once called family had become the architects of his darkness.

After abandoning the life he once knew, Vedant carved out a new identity — one that echoed in both the legal and the illegal corridors of power. He launched his own empire from scratch, when he was graduating from abroad, and built a reputation that made even the bravest men hesitate.

Spread across the hundreds of acres on the outskirts of Pune, was an empire built in secrecy and ruled by the lord of hell himself. No signboards. No roads leading in.Just a single path that began where the world ended.

ABODE–The city of shadows 

The name itself sent chills down the spine of those who dared whisper it . Neither a home nor a haven , it was a kingdom carved out of shadows , built by a man who had mastered the art of moving in darkness like a shadow .

As one approached the land, the first thing to strike was the unnatural silence–birds didn't chirp, leaves didn't rustle, and even the wind seemed to whisper warnings. 

The front of the land held a long, seemingly endless path, often referred to by those who knew it as “The Judgement Road”-- a road walked by many, but exited by few.

No one knew the exact number of guards or security layers in place. Some claimed the land was cursed. Others whispered it was blessed by the devil himself .

But all agreed on one thing: Once you enter ABODE,you're either a guest…or prey.

Nobody knows what the empire of the Mafia Lord looks like. The drones were brought to ashes before flying above it . The satellites don't get their radars. The spies…well they are directly served to the Lord.

It was early morning, and Vedant was in his home-built gym…his usual routine. As always, he hadn't slept a wink. Insomnia had long made sleep a luxury he neither craved nor missed. His daily routine was as precise and ruthless as he was: 

Work–exercise–work–kill–work again.

Even meals were considered a waste of time. He consumed food only while working.

After finishing his workout, Vedant ascended the staircase to the second floor of his mansion. Entering his room, he tossed the phone on charge and walked into the bathroom. 

His clothes fell to the floor as he stepped into the shower, the icy water grounding him for the day ahead–one that promised changes…maybe life changing also included.

Minutes later, he emerged, a towel hanging low on his waist. His chiseled physique, eight-pack abs, carved muscles, a sharp V-line vanishing into the towel and the way water was still dripping from his muscular chest….it was a body women would die to touch, but none ever got a chance. Vedant despised them.

He entered his walk-in closet and dressed in his usual all-black—a crisp black shirt paired with tailored black straight pants, a sleek black coat fitted perfectly on his broad shoulders, and a Rolex strapped on his right wrist. He exited the closet after carefully setting his hairs in place–not even a single strand was out of place.

He picked up his phone, and began descending the stairs, but not before completing his look by wearing a pair of black leather shoes.

He had already wished his sister at midnight. Now it was time to head to the office as in the evening he has to go there, for which he has to wrap his work early.

His black coffee waited on the dining table, placed just the way he liked it. The maids were strictly instructed to never appear before him, the house ran like a machine that adapted to his presence.

Just as he picked up his cup, a familiar sound broke the morning silence. 

A blur of golden fur sprinted toward him. He smiled faintly and bent down, setting his cup on the table to run his fingers through the thick furs of his pet lion–his companion, his pride, the only soul with him in this dead mansion of his—ACE.

"Dad’s going to the office, will be late today…it's  Ishaani’s birthday,” Vedant murmured, rubbing Ace’s head affectionately. He nuzzled more in his touch as if telling him that he will never leave him alone.

Vedant lingered for a moment, then stood, cast one last look to Ace , picked up his coffee, and stepped outside.

The convoy was ready—as always.

A guard opened the rear door of the armoured black car, and Vedant slid in. The engine purred to life. His vehicle, surrounded by a fleet of jet-black SUVs bearing the roaring lion symbol on the bonnet— his mark. They moved like a shadow army through the city. The streets cleared on instinct, as if the world recognized the presence of the Lord of Hell himself.

The convoy reached its destination -- THE KYROSYS TECH-- Asia's No.1 company . 

Vedant built it with his own blood, sweat, and genius. He was only twenty when he founded it, with minimal resources and self-earned capital. He refused to use the money of those he loathed—his own family. And when Kyrosys rose to power, he tried to return every penny with interest they once gave him.  

But they had refused…but still he had kept it there and left, not looking back at it . He was the first child of the family, and they loved him. 

But when fate played his game even the king became a beggar and that fate played cruelly with them. One mistake–just one–led to many things–and everything broke. Love turned to ashes. And Vedant never forgave them. 

As the convoy halted, Vedant stepped out. The employees bowed in silence as he walked through the lobby–tall, commanding, untouchable. The elevator doors opened, and Aarav pressed the button for the 60th floor—the topmost floor, the throne of the empire he ruled.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, a collective sigh of relief escaped the employees—as if they’d narrowly escaped death itself. Everyone silently retired to their workstations….except one.

She was still standing there, eyes glued to the closed lift. Unblinking. As if couldn't believe what a wonderful creation of God she had just seen. 

" Forget about him, Priya" said Megha, a senior employee standing nearby, nudging her.

"Why?”Priya smirked, her over-glossed red lips curling mischievously, “Didn't you see him? Devilishly handsome. What sane woman would want to forget that?”

"One who wants to live "Megha replied darkly, her voice shadowed with the weight of past encounters. Seeing the confusion in Priya’s expression, she added with a sigh, “He hates women. Even the two floors below his office, he made sure not a single female employee is allowed.”

Priya chuckled. “That’s it? I know these types. They pretend to be cold, but all they want is a hot body to warm their nights. Lucky for our boss, he might just get the best one.” Her voice was confident as if already imagined to bring him–the lord–on his knees for her.

Megha’s tone turned sharp. “Don’t play with death, Priya. Many girls thought the same. They’re gone. I’m warning you as your senior—you’re just an intern.”

With that, Megha walked away, leaving Priya alone in her delusional fantasy of wrapping him–the untouchable, especially by women. A smirk played on Priya’s lips.

“Jealous bitch,she must have been rejected by that hottie for her ‘aunty’ type body” she muttered under her breath. “Once I have Vedant wrapped around my finger, she’s the first one I’ll have suspended…she doesn't know how many men I had seduced before, though none of them was as hot as Vedant.”

She strutted to the women’s washroom and pulled out her compact. A touch-up. More red on the lips. She tugged the neckline of her off-shoulder top lower, just enough to expose a provocative swell of her chest. Hitched her skirt a little higher—her thighs now visible with every step.

She admired herself in the mirror one last time, then marched toward the employee elevator. She dared not try the VIP one, looking at the guard, she chose to play safe…until he himself kill her.

The employees nearby threw her looks—some disgusted, some pitying, and some entirely used to this type of mistake.

Priya reached the top floor. Oddly, there were no guards at the door.

Luck? Or fate?

She adjusted her top again by pulling it down more, since it was off-shoulder that too a crop top, so it was not hiding much of her upper body. She checked her reflection on her phone’s camera. Confident—or pretending to be—she knocked on the office door marked PRESIDENT in bold black letters.

A warning sign in itself–for the upcoming death…..but vinash kaali viprit budhi.

“Come in,” came the voice. Low. Dark. Lethal. It sent a chill down her spine.

For a split second, fear crept in—but her greed of being fvcked by him–the lord–was louder. Pasting on a sultry smile, she entered the office.

Vedant looked up, his expression hardening as soon as her cheap perfume hit his senses. She strutted toward him, chest bouncing deliberately.

“SECURITY” Vedant barked, his voice sharp as a dagger…that can cut her right then and there in pieces.

Priya flinched, but she didn’t retreat. “Boss... why don’t you take a better look at me?” she said, fluttering her lashes,bending down to give the whole view of her breasts, masking her trembling with fake confidence.

Vedant stood up slowly—like a storm about to break.

In one explosive move, he flipped the desk, glass shattering across the room. Papers flew, the room stilled.

Hearing the commotion, Kiyansh Raisinghania—Vedant’s younger cousin and Kyrosys's CEO. He didn’t join the family business, because for him his brother is ideal and he wanted to work for him only…well due to that he could spend more time with his elder brother.

He rushed in with several guards immediately, after hearing Vedant’s yell . He halted at the door, taking in the scene: Vedant, seething like a demon, bloodshot eyes, chest heaving up and down with rage, tightened jaw and flaring of nose; the girl, frozen in fear; and the remains of the desk scattered across the floor.

He opened his mouth to intervene—

BANG!!.
BANG!!.
BANG!!.
BANG!!.
BANG!!.

Five gunshots.

Silence.

Then—THUD.
Her lifeless body collapsed to the ground.

Two bullets through her eyes—for daring to look at him.
One through her skull—for not understanding a simple rule, of staying away from him.
One through her heart—for flaunting it.
And one through the space between her thighs—which was throbbing to be fvcked by him.

Vedant turned, face carved from pure rage. “HOW DID SHE GET IN HERE?” he thundered at the guards, his voice shaking the very walls.

“Bhai…” Nishant stepped in quickly, shielding the trembling guards. “Let me handle it. Come take a breath in my cabin for a bit.”

Vedant’s jaw flexed, his eyes still burning with wrath—but he nodded once and walked out without another word.

The story spread like wildfire. An intern—foolishly attempting to seduce the untouchable—now lay in a body bag.

Everyone at Kyrosys already knew the rules. They were written in bold, black ink before anyone joined:
He hates women. Do not provoke him. Do not approach.
And yet, one more forgot…

And met the devil face-to-face.