AUTHOR'S POV

The Raisinghania Mansion stands as a breathtaking symbol of power, wealth, and timeless elegance, its majestic white facade radiating the aura of a modern-day palace. Crowned with a grand central dome and layered with navy-blue tiled roofs.

The Mansion is surrounded by lush greenery and tall trees that give it both privacy and a serene backdrop. The front lawns are expansive, with neatly trimmed grass and carefully placed ornamental plants that add to its elegance without overwhelming the view. A few well-lit lamp posts line the driveway, guiding the path towards the grand entrance, while the circular fountain at the center stands as the focal point of the estate’s exterior. The surroundings are calm, orderly, and designed to highlight the mansion’s grandeur while keeping it shielded from the outside world.

It was buzzing with life today as family members moved around in excitement, preparing for the most awaited family reunion—a rare occasion. Adding to the grandeur of the day was the celebration of their only daughter’s 21st birthday, a milestone that held special meaning for the family. Unlike their usual extravagant parties, this was kept as a private gathering, as their elder son hates people around him. Nobody wanted to disappoint him, as he was coming home after a long time, that too only on his little sister’s request. 

"Aree…Ved ki favourite chicken curry toh reh gayi," a lady in her late fifties exclaimed, lightly tapping her forehead with her palm. Her voice carried both the tenderness of a mother and the deep longing of meeting her son after so long. The faint aroma of spices already filled the grand kitchen, but her heart was restless until every dish her son loved was on the table.

"Koi baat nahi, bhabhi…Ved ko aane mein abhi time hai. Tab tak bana lete hain. I’ll help you, don’t worry," another woman younger than her, reassured her with a smile. The first one’s anxious expression instantly softened, a wide smile blooming as she looked at her sister-in-law with gratitude.

The mansion’s kitchen was buzzing with warmth, the clinking of utensils mixing with laughter and chatter. Outside, the rest of the house carried the festive hum of preparations—fresh flowers being arranged, tables being set, and voices echoing through the high-ceilinged halls. Today’s feast was no ordinary one; it was carefully planned around the tastes of their elder son, Vedant, and their daughter—who certainly deserved credit for persuading her brother to finally come home after so long…for once.

"Aditi…come here for a minute," a male voice called out from the living room, the sound carrying easily through the wide corridors and into the kitchen, momentarily pausing the women’s conversation.

“Coming!” the first woman, Aditi Naman Raisinghania, replied as she quickly washed her hands, wiped them on the towel hanging nearby, and made her way out of the kitchen toward the living room where her husband was calling her.

The massive hall was a blend of elegance and warmth—balloons in pink and white floated across the ceiling and rolled across the polished marble floor. The grand chandelier glowed in the center, strings of balloons dangling around it like a festive crown. The staircase rails were wrapped with garlands of fresh flowers, their fragrance mingling with the aroma drifting from the kitchen.

A few maids moved quickly and quietly in the background, carrying trays of candles, flowers, and food, setting things exactly where they were asked. But the main decorations? Those were under strict “family-only” instructions, because their princess wouldn’t allow outsiders to touch the heart of this evening.

And there she was—the daughter of the house, standing with her hands on her hips, directing everyone like a tiny general. “Dad… ribbons seedhe karo! Chachu, that banner is crooked! Rani didi, zara aur balloons lao… jaldi!” she ordered, her voice full of authority yet laced with excitement.

On one wall, the men of the family were hopelessly struggling with streamers and ribbons—an order straight from their “princess,” who had insisted no outsiders should touch a thing. She wanted everything to feel homely, filled with laughter and togetherness, not like one of those cold, extravagant rich parties. 

And despite her strict tone, they couldn’t help but grin at her enthusiasm. Even the maids smiled as they followed her precise instructions—placing flower vases where she pointed, tying balloons the way she wanted. The girl didn’t just want things decorated; she wanted them done with love, with family hands, not professionals

“Kya hua? Why were you calling me? Aapko pata bhi hai kitna kaam pada hai? Ved aa raha hai, vo bhi itne time baad. Sab kuch uski pasand ka hona chahiye,” Aditi scolded lightly, her eyes following the whirlwind of activity, though a fond smile tugged at her lips at the mention of her son.

“Bete ke aane ki khushi mein toh pati ko hi bhool gayi,” Naman Shiv Raisinghania teased, putting on an exaggeratedly sad face. But even he couldn’t hide the sparkle of excitement in his eyes.

Aditi glared at him playfully.

“Sorry, biwi… ab please help us with these decorations,” he admitted, scratching his head and showing her the utter chaos around them.

“Hey bhagwan… yeh kya kar diya aap logon ne!” she gasped in horror. The men were hopelessly tangled in long ribbons meant for the backdrop of the birthday banner. Half the balloons lay defeated on the ground—either popped or torn, looking more like a battlefield than a celebration, and even a couple of maids stood aside covering their smiles at the scene.

All of them gave her sheepish smiles, blinking innocently like guilty children caught red-handed, while their little princess immediately stepped forward, arms crossed. 

“See, Mom? Maine bola tha na… leave it to me. Dad and Chachu can’t even handle balloons properly!” she declared.

She clapped her hands twice like a director yelling “Action!” and began issuing orders with flair.
“Chachu… woh banner seedha lagayiye, aisa lag rha hai jaise alphabet hi bhool gaye!” she teased, earning a sheepish grin from him.
“Dad, aap decoration chhodo. Aap ka kaam sirf ladder hold karna hai… aur please iss baar girna mat.” She winked at her father, making everyone laugh.
“Aur Kiyansh bhai, woh ribbons phoolon ke saath match nahi kar rahe… maids se pooch lo, unke paas better taste hai.”

The maids chuckled softly as they followed her lead, adjusting flowers, tying ribbons, and cleaning up the chaos. The men, though slightly embarrassed, couldn’t help but laugh at her sass and energy.

The women of the family, watching from the staircase, burst into laughter too, clapping at the princess’s antics. Even Aditi shook her head with mock annoyance but pride filled her heart—this was her daughter, the very reason Vedant had agreed to come home.

The clock on the far wall ticked louder in that moment, reminding them all: only forty-five minutes until Ved’s arrival.

“If you all are done joking around… can we focus on the decorations now? Don’t forget, Ved will be here sometime,” said Shiv Raisinghania, the head of the family, his deep voice carrying authority and affection alike.

The princess saluted dramatically. “Yes, Boss! Don’t worry, by the time Bhai arrives, this place will look like heaven… not like this disaster zone.”

Everyone laughed again, but then quickly bent to work—family and staff together, led by the playful commands of their little boss. Slowly, the mansion began to transform—not into a rich man’s cold party venue, but into a warm, glowing home waiting to welcome him.

VEDANT’S POV

I had finished my work an hour ago, but for the past sixty minutes, I’d been preparing myself for something far more difficult—stepping into the one place I despise the most.

I didn’t want to go back there. Every time I leave that house, my temper always reaches its breaking point. And I am not a patient man. One wrong word, one wrong glance, and I know I’ll explode. The last thing I want is to ruin Ishaani’s birthday because of it. But she insisted. And I never say no to her.

Just one hour. That’s all you need to survive. Control yourself for her.

Ignore some people, that’s it. 

Keep your phone in hand, act busy.

Pretend they don’t exist. 

Hold it together.

You can do it.

You have to control your anger for just—

“DAMN ONE HOUR!” I growled, slamming my fist onto the glass table. A sharp crack echoed through the room as the glass splintered, shards digging into my knuckles. Crimson bled down my hand, staining the flawless surface.

“Boss, the car—” Aarav entered but stopped short at the sight of my bloodied knuckles. He didn’t ask anything, instead, he disappeared silently and returned with a first-aid kit. Without a word, he took my hand, cleaned the wounds with antiseptic, and wrapped them in a bandage with practiced care.

He knew. He always knew. The reason behind my rage, the venom I carried for that house and its people. And like me, he understood that stepping foot there would only fuel the fire I’ve tried to bury.

But tonight… there was something different gnawing at me. A restless feeling in my gut I couldn’t shake off. Something was going to change. And experience has taught me one thing—fate has never been on my side. Which is why I doubt their intentions. All of them. Except my siblings. 

“Boss, the car is ready… should we head—” Aarav cut himself off, choosing not to provoke me further. I remained still, staring out through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of my office, the city stretched before me like a kingdom I ruled.

Finally, I pushed myself to my feet with a heavy sigh. Slipping on my black coat over my black shirt, I made my way to the private elevator. My reflection in the glass doors was the same as always—sharp, cold, untouchable. Perfectly hiding my inner turmoil from the world.

“Boss, ma’a— I mean Ishani’s gift… it’s here,” Aarav said, stepping forward with a small package wrapped neatly with a ribbon—too cheesy, but she loves these things. A black file inside. Something simple, yet extravagant. She had once mentioned her favorite clothing brand in passing, so I bought the brand. For her as a birthday gift.

Tonight was about surviving one hour in the place I loathe… surrounded by people I cannot stand…for even a second. 

And a gnawing voice in my head is continuously whispering—
One night is more than enough to change everything.

I tightened the bandage around my hand, ignoring the sting. Pain was nothing new—it only reminded me I was still human beneath the layers of ice I’d built around myself.

Aarav walked a few steps behind me, silent as always. He didn’t need instructions; he knew every detail of my routine, my mood, my silence. The elevator doors opened, and we descended to the private garage—My Black Rolls-Royce waited at the center, flanked by lines of black luxury cars, lined like soldiers—each one filled with my men. The guards straightened and bowed their heads as I walked past, the echo of my shoes sharp in the silence.

Each step I took echoed in the air, heavy and deliberate. My anger hadn’t calmed—it never really did. It just shifted, sat dormant until someone provoked it. And in that house, there was never a shortage of provocation.

I hated them. Their fake smiles, their forced concern, their tendency to sweep filth under the rug as if nothing ever happened. They had taught me one thing clearly—family is the sweetest poison.

Soon enough, we reached my private parking lot. Aarav opened the backseat door and I slid inside, while he took the passenger seat. The convoy moved as one, my car leading in the middle, engines humming in unison.  I loosened my tie, staring out at the city lights. Outside, the world blurred by. I leaned against the window, eyes fixed on the sky.

It was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that pressed against your chest.

The sky had shifted—deep blue, heavy with clouds, the color that comes before a storm. The sun was sinking, painting streaks of orange and red across the horizon. It was beautiful, almost painfully so. A cruel contrast to my life, where everything had long been stripped into black.

Was tonight a signal of the storm about to hit? Or some twisted attempt of fate to paint a little color in my darkness?
I opt for the first one. Because the second is something I’ll never allow myself to expect in this life.

I closed my eyes, forcing my breathing to slow. One hour, Ved. Just one damn hour.

Still… that gnawing unease in my chest only grew stronger. It wasn’t just anger this time—it was something else. Something I couldn’t name.

The sudden screech of tires pulled me back to reality.

There it was—The Raisinghania Mansion. Standing tall, glowing with lights and grandeur. Once, this place was my home. Once. But then—

I refused to let my mind wander back to those memories. That past had no place in my present.

Aarav opened the door for me. I stepped out, buttoning my coat with one hand. The other slipped into my pocket, hiding my bruised knuckles, while the gift rested cold and heavy in my grip.

“Boss, should we move inside?” Aarav’s voice was low, cautious.

I gave a single nod and walked forward, expression unreadable, face stoic. Behind me, my guards—over a hundred—moved in perfect sync, their silence as cold as mine.

My eyes flickered to the yard in front of the mansion. A place that once echoed with our laughter. A place where we all siblings chased each other under the sky, while elders sat sipping their evening tea, smiling like everything was perfect. A perfect family. It was. 

Until they ruined it. Until they trusted her—an outsider—over their own blood. That day, I chose myself over them.

And now… here I was again.

At the doorway, the entire family stood waiting. Smiles stretched across their faces, eyes glassy with tears. A picture-perfect welcome. But none of it mattered. Their warmth couldn’t touch me.

Because tonight, I had only one mission—survive one damn hour.

Before I could process it, Ishaani came running down the steps. She flung her arms around me, hugging me tight. Normally, I hate people touching me. But her? I can’t refuse her. My injured hand rose, patting her head gently.

That’s when it happened. Every pair of eyes fell on my bandaged knuckles, their smiles faltered. And in their eyes, I saw it—guilt, pain, maybe even regret.

But regret doesn’t heal scars. Not mine.

Except for two people. Two faces in the corner that destroyed whatever softness was left in me.

Vishaka Shiv Raisinghania. My father’s sister. The most vile woman I have ever known—wearing a mask of innocence but dripping with venom behind it. Beside her stood one of the very reasons I despise women—Myra Shekawat. Vishaka’s best friend’s daughter. Her mother died somehow years ago, leaving her behind… and what a curse that was. A whore in disguise, yet in this house, she was treated like a victim.

My vision darkened at the sight of them. Memories came flooding back—memories of betrayal, of a woman I once called a mother, of my family turning their backs on me because apparently, they couldn’t trust their own blood.

My hand clenched instinctively, the bandage tearing open as fresh blood seeped out. My eyes burned, shifting to their darkest shade of blue.

Before I could move, Kiyansh stepped forward, placing himself between us, blocking their filthy faces from my view. His eyes locked with mine—steady, calm—silently telling me to breathe, to hold it together. For Ishaani.

And then her voice cut through my rage.“Thank you… Bhai, you came for me!” she chirped, her excitement so pure it almost hurt.

I forced my gaze away from the demons in the corner and looked at her instead. My hand rose, ruffling her hair “Happy Birthday, Ishaani,” I said. My voice came out rough, deeper than I intended, but I softened it as much as I could for her.

Her smile widened, radiant, lighting up the hall more than any chandelier could. She slipped her arm through mine, tugging me inside like I belonged there.

I didn’t acknowledge the rest of them. Why should I? They knew the truth. They knew the only string tying me to this house was my siblings—the ones who never abandoned me, even when they didn’t fully understand the storm.

The hall unfolded before me, decorated just as Ishani had wanted. Pink and white balloons scattered across the floor, strings of balloons floating across the ceiling like clouds. One side of the hall was set for the cake-cutting, with a pink-and-silver backdrop and a bold “Happy 21st” banner. Pictures of Ishaani were pinned across the wall—her smiles captured in every frame.

It was homely. Warm. Nothing flashy, nothing screaming money or power. Just family. Family… and two outsiders who should never have been here.

“Bhai, you know this whole decor is done by me,” Vihaan said in a tired, exaggerated voice—pretending as if he had single-handedly put the entire hall together.

Ishani instantly narrowed her eyes. “Liar! Vihaan bhai, you only blew up one balloon.”

“Ha tho, that one balloon,” Vihaan raised a finger dramatically, “is the highlight of this entire party. Without it, this whole decor is just… meh.” He flicked his collar proudly.

“Oh… that balloon?” Kiyansh’s calm voice cut in. “It came under my shoe… so.” He shrugged, almost disappointed in Vihaan’s theatrics.

Vihaan froze, eyes wide in mock horror. “You… killed it?!” His hand flew to his chest. “That balloon was my legacy, Kiyansh bhai. How could you betray me like this?” He sniffled, rubbing invisible tears.

Before he could continue his theatrics, Kiyansh grabbed his pointing finger and twisted it lightly, but firmly with perfect timing.

“Ahhhhh bhaiiii chodooo!! It hurts!!” Vihaan hissed, this time in genuine pain.

I stepped forward and pried his finger free from Kiyansh’s grip. Immediately, Vihaan’s face lit up.
“I knew it, bhaiii… you love me the most!” He blew on his finger dramatically. And then, shameless as ever, he wrapped his arms around me.

I shoved him off with a scowl. “Get lost.” I dusted my coat, pretending he had dirtied it. This dramatic-ass can never change.

“Wow… so much rudeness,” Vihaan muttered, pouting. “But deep down, I know you love me.”

“Deep down?” Ishani snorted. “If you go that deep, maybe you’ll find a brain too.”

“See, Ishani,” Vihaan said, smirking at her, completely ignoring her previous remark, “he does love me more.”

Ishani rolled her eyes. “If he loved you more, he wouldn’t look like he’s trying to disinfect his coat after you touched it.”

But of course, Ishani wasn’t done. “Honestly, Vihaan bhai, if you spent half the energy on real work that you waste on drama, maybe you’d actually achieve something.”

“Excuse me,” Vihaan gasped, pointing at her with his free hand. “I am the emotional backbone of this family. The comedy, the tragedy, the—”

A sharp smack landed on the back of his head courtesy of Nishant.

“—the pain!” Vihaan yelped again, rubbing his head. “Why does no one respect me in this family?”

Ishani and Kiyansh rolled their eyes in perfect sync. I just shook my head, a faint tug at my lips that I quickly hid.

Kiyansh chuckled low, shaking his head. “Both of you never learn.”

Their bickering filled the air, loud and chaotic. I stood there, outwardly cold, but somewhere deep inside… a tiny part of me had missed this noise.

“Okay, enough of you all now. Let’s cut the cake,” my grandmother—Gauri Shiv Raisinghania—finally spoke, her calm but firm tone dragging me back to reality.

Just fifty minutes more. I kept reminding myself of the time left, clinging to it like a lifeline.

We moved toward the decorated corner where Ishani stood glowing behind the cake table. On her left, our parents—my mother’s eyes shone with tears, her longing almost unbearable, like she wanted to throw herself into my arms. But I ignored them, just as they once ignored me when I had begged for nothing but their trust.

Beside them stood Gaurav Shiv Raisinghania—my uncle—and his wife, Devika Gaurav Raisinghania. They were always more parents to me than the people who gave me life. My gaze met theirs, and I dipped my head in silent acknowledgment. Both smiled at me, eyes heavy with unshed tears.

Devi maa’s hands twitched, as if she wanted to pull me into the embrace I had once lived in, back when she fed me with her own hands. But she stopped herself. She knew. I wasn’t the same Ved anymore. Time and betrayal had carved the softness out of me.

Still… they never doubted me. Never once turned against me. And for that, I never hated them. What stood between us now wasn’t betrayal—just years of distance.

After them were my grandparents. The same people who thought they could dictate my life. I still remembered the ultimatum my grandfather gave me back then…after that horrible morning. I chose self-respect. I chose the truth. But the truth was buried, twisted into lies. They branded me a culprit for something I never committed. Because apparently, a man can’t be a victim.

“Boss.” Aarav’s voice pulled me back. I gave him a small nod.

“He was last spotted in Goa,” he murmured. Just hearing that name made my blood boil. But I had to keep control. Just forty more minutes.

“Prepare the jet. We’ll leave after the party,” I ordered quietly.

“Sure, boss,” he replied and slipped away.

Ishaani cut the cake while everyone clapped and cheered. Twenty-one. She really had grown up. She turned to me with the first piece, and instead of eating it, I fed it back to her. She smiled knowingly—she remembered my dislike for sweets.

After me, she went around feeding everyone. Everyone… except those two women. She skipped right past them as if they didn’t exist. A proud smirk tugged at my lips. That’s my sister. Outsiders should be treated like outsiders.

“Ishaani, you forgot your bua and Myra,” Dadu interrupted, pretending he didn’t see her deliberate choice.

“I didn’t forget, dadu,” she replied sweetly. “Bua might get diabetes if she eats too much sugar.” Her eyes shifted to Myra, sharp with disgust. “And Myra… last I checked, I didn’t invite you to my birthday.”

My chest swelled with pride. My little sister wasn’t so little anymore. She knew exactly how to put people in their place. I caught Kiyansh and Vihaan’s eyes—they were just as proud.

But of course, Vishaka couldn’t keep her poison in.“Myra is not an outsider, Ishu. She’s your Ved bhai’s future wife.”

That was it. The last string snapped.

“SHE CAN NEVER BE MY WIFE !!” I roared. The hall fell silent, every face flinching.

“Ved… she is your elder. Talk with respect,” Dadu scolded, but his voice trembled. Fear. Good. At least he knew who he was speaking to.

“It’s Vedant for you, Mr. Shiv Raisinghania,” I growled, locking eyes with him. Then I turned to Vishaka, my glare cutting through her. “And you—get this in your fucking head that, I will NEVER marry this whore.”

“Vedant, you can’t talk about Myra like that,” my father finally opened his mouth. Mistake. He should’ve stayed silent.

A bitter chuckle escaped me. “After all these years, nothing has changed. Still choosing an outsider over your own blood.”

I tilted my head looking straight at my grandfather, mocking. “If your memory is failing, I can arrange a doctor. Being the richest man, I can afford that.” His brows furrowed in confusion. I leaned forward, my voice a blade. “Or maybe you’ve conveniently forgotten the choices you gave me back then.”

“Ve… Ved…” Myra whimpered, daring to step toward me. Disgust churned in my gut. My hand moved on instinct.

BANG!

The shot rang out. Myra screamed, collapsing to the ground, clutching her bleeding arm. Vishaka shrieked and ran to her. “Are you mad?!”

“I warned you two pieces of shit to stay away from me,” I growled, my voice venomous. “I’m not that naive kid you fooled with your fake motherly love. I’m not that innocent teenager you framed with lies. I am someone you shouldn’t even think of crossing. The most feared man on this whole fucking planet, whom even death fears.”

My gaze snapped to Ishaani. She was sobbing quietly, guilt flooding her eyes for insisting I come tonight. I softened for her alone. I walked over, handed her the gift, and patted her head. She clung to me, crying into my chest.

Vihaan and Kiyansh wrapped their arms around us too. For once, I didn’t resist. But it was short-lived. I pulled away, my eyes sweeping over the family. Their faces were pale, drenched in shock, guilt, and fear. The guilt of creating the monster standing before them. I turned to leave. But before I could, something tugged at my leg. I looked down—Myra’s bloody hand clutched my ankle.

Rage exploded inside me. Another shot.

BANG! 

This time into her other arm. She screamed, writhing, still refusing to let go until I kicked her hand off me.

“STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM ME, YOU WHORE!!” I roared, aiming my gun at her head, it seems like she wants to die today. She scrambled backward, shaking, blood smearing across the floor.

Seeing the gun pointed at her forehead, Kiyansh came forward holding my hand, reminding me of Ishaani’s birthday, so I can’t kill her now. I froze. Breathing heavily. My finger twitched on the trigger… but I holstered the gun. Not today.

THUD!!

Instead, I flipped a nearby table, glass shattering across the floor. My already injured hand split open again, blood dripping freely.

“Vedant!” My mother rushed forward, grabbing my hand, tears spilling down her face. “Please, let me—”

I yanked my hand away. My voice was ice. “Take care of your outsider, Mrs. Raisinghania. Just like you did years ago. I don’t need your fake sympathy.”

And with that, I walked out. My steps were heavy, my vision burning red.

By the time I reached my car, the fury had consumed me whole. I kicked the tire hard, then slammed my fist into the window. The glass cracked, but the pain didn’t reach me. Because nothing could ever hurt more than the betrayal of my own family.

Aarav came to my side and cautiously informed me, without even a hint of hesitation, he had seen my worst—and this… this was nothing.“Boss, we had to leave for Goa to catch him,” he said.

More violence awaited me. Good. I had someone to vent my anger on.

I drew a deep breath and settled into the backseat while he took the passenger seat. The driver started the engine, and we made our way toward the private runway at my ABODE.

Soon, we arrived. We boarded the jet and left for Goa. I closed my eyes, searching for peace—but there was none. Everything that had happened since morning swirled in my mind, fueling my hatred toward the women who had crossed me. First, the intern who dared defy me, knowing the consequences. Then Myra, that whore, and Vishaka. How amusing they thought I would ever agree to marry her.

Vishaka… my aunt.She was good. We were good. Until one day when our dynamics changed and her embrace which was filled with warmth for me changed to poisoned affection.  She had always showered me with affection, whispering when I was a child, “You are the first one to make me a bua… so you are special.”  How ironic. She never loved me; she despised me. Everything she did was calculated to destroy me. She played the innocent family member flawlessly, until I began to see through her mask. Then she struck her most disgusting blow, something I never anticipated—something that shattered everything I had.

She thought I would bow to her manipulations and marry that woman. Wrong. Raisinghaniya or not, I am the only king here. What I’ve earned, I earned myself. Now, she tries her tactics again… Ved is dead, and only the LORD remains—the king, the monster people feared even beyond death.

The jet touched down at my private runway in Goa, near my mansion. I stepped out, posture straight, hands in my pockets, and the famous stoic face back to its place. Guards lined the driveway on both sides and bowed their heads.

“Boss, we caught him. He’s in the basement,” Aarav said, walking behind me.

“Good,” I replied, pride coloring my words. Dixit had been caught before I even arrived—Aarav knew I hated wasting time.

“Thank you..Boss” He replied with a straight face, but a smile threatened to leave.

We drove to the basement under the Goa branch of Kyrosys. Aarav opened the gate, and I stepped inside. The only sound was the echo of our shoes against the concrete floor. It was not pitch dark, as there were some dim bulbs hanging…providing the place more than necessary light–it stings. 

A figure sat in a chair, tied and hooded. I raised my hand, signaling for the cloth to be removed, and instantly a guard rushed to remove the cloth.

The light made him blink, constantly to get the proper view of—death. When his eyes fell on me, they widened like saucers. Sweat broke across his forehead.

I smiled—mocking. He thought he could hide the scandal he orchestrated in my company, the betrayal that cost millions as he sold important details to one of my enemies, and get away with it.

“Well… you played well, Dixit,” I hissed. He shivered, realizing how fast I had found him. He had hoped to hide from me, but this world belongs to me. He never touched the dirt with his own hands, always pulling the strings from behind, making everyone believe that Sharma was the only traitor.

“I… I a-am so…rry,” he stammered, his voice trembling, from pain inflicted upon him by my men.

This fucking traitor thinks that a sorry would restore my losses, or erase his betrayal and lies. I walked toward him, slow and predatory, and grabbed his jaw roughly, forcing him to look at me.

“Who else?” my voice carried an edge of frustration, and anger seeping through my calm.

His eyes widened from shock. My suspicion was confirmed—Dixit was not the mastermind. Someone else pulled the strings. But who?

“I… I don’t kn…ow—” I cut him off with a hard kick to his stomach, slamming the chair against the wall.

“I HATE LIARS,” I roared, grabbing him by the collar, tightening the ropes more around him, he groaned in pain..but I don’t give a zero fuck about his pain. The only thing right now I care is my millions which I lost because of this fucking traitor.

“WHO” I again roared at his face, but still he chose silence. Fine, then if he is so much willing to die, then who am I to delay that.

I threw him back to the floor, picked up the nail plucker, and motioned for two guards to make him stand.

“You know, I am a very good person… so I’ll give you two choices,” I said with a sinister smirk. Hope flickered in his eyes, but I knew it would die instantly.

“I… ha-have a fam…ily. Please… leave me,” he pleaded, tears flowing.

“So… you didn’t think about them when you betrayed me?” I hissed.

The word family reminded me of the evening’s incident, igniting my rage. I grabbed his hand and plucked his nails. He trembled, yet he wouldn’t speak. Even after both hands were bare, I was unsatisfied, because I was not getting what I wanted—a damn name. He knew I would kill him, so there was no need to reveal the truth. He only repeated one thing in a loop, that he has a family, not knowing it was igniting my anger more.

I signaled the guards to leave. He collapsed to the floor, bloodied and sobbing. I grabbed a nearby rod, striking him repeatedly across legs and face. Blood soaked the floor. Then, he spoke, his voice trembling, eyes held in disgust, with a hollow chuckle he said “I kept telling you to leave me for my family… but you didn’t listen. You know why? Because you didn’t know what family is. Your own abandoned you and trusted an outsider over you. You will never have anyone, and one day, the darkness you thrive on will consume you and you won’t be able to save you. You are a monster in human skin. You will die alone… no one will mourn you—”

Aarav shot him squarely in the chest before he could finish. His lifeless body crumpled a few steps away from me, blood pooling beneath him.

His words echoed in my mind, painfully suffocating me from inside, but I showed no sign of it. I turned silently, walked to my car, and sat behind the wheel.

Before I could drive, Aarav approached, tense but expressionless.“Sir, I’ll dri—”

I raised my hand, cutting him off. “I’ll be back in some time,” I said, staring at the road ahead.

“But sir—”He saw my glare and hesitantly backed away, bowing his head.

I sped off my car–with no destination, every now and then his venomous words ringing in my ears:

“Your own family trusted an outsider over you.”
“Your parents abandoned you.”
“You will always be alone.”
“You are a monster.”

I slammed my hand on the wheel. No one’s words would control me. I am the Mafia Lord. I am unstoppable.

I looked around. The beach stretched quietly before me, eerily still under the midnight sky. I parked the car to the side, sank into the seat, and let my head rest against the headrest, craving a fleeting moment of peace in this chaotic life.

A bitter chuckle escaped me, a reminder of the countless curses I’d collected over the years. But tonight, it cut deeper than before—maybe because of the argument back at the mansion. I sighed heavily, and opened my eyes.The coat I wore clung to me like a shackle. I shrugged it off and tossed it onto the passenger seat along with my phone and watch. Both devices were trackers, and I wanted a moment alone—completely alone.

I stepped out of the car. A cold wind brushed past, making me feel a little light. I walked towards the beach, but then my gaze caught a building just a few meters away. And before I knew it, I had already started walking toward it. INFERNO LOUNGE—The sign glowed faintly in the darkness, it was a ten storey building…bascially a night club.

The bouncers at the entrance paused as I approached, they stepped aside the moment recognition flashed in their eyes. The lounge was mine, yet this was my first time visiting.

Inside, the music struck like a physical force–peircing my ears, bodies moving wildly on the dance floor. I ignored them all and headed straight for the elevator, pressing the terrace button. The ascent was slow, and I leaned against the wall for support, as if it could anchor me amidst the chaos inside. The gates opened, and the view stole my breath.

I walked to the edge of the terrace, gripping the railing. Tight enough to ground me, loose enough to feel free from every responsibility, power, everything—even for a moment. The sea stretched infinitely, calm and silver beneath the moonlight, a stark contrast to the storm inside me. The sky had deepened from blended twilight to pitch black, yet the moon’s glow on the clouds created an ethereal reflection on the Arabian Sea. Cold winds struck my face, making me close my eyes.

And then his words returned, stabbing through the fragile calm I had gathered: “How will you understand the value of family when you don’t have one of your own?”

I’ve heard these words before, from enemies, from traitors. They use the idea of family to plead for mercy, to manipulate me. I usually don’t care. But tonight… tonight, it landed differently.

I forced myself to reflect. What had I done that left me alone? I had siblings, a best friend—but one day, they’d have their own lives, their own families, moving forward. And I… I would be left behind.

No one would be there for me.

Who would just care for me?

Who would become my home?

Who would sit with me at the dining table?

Who would love me the most?

Who would trust me, no matter what?

Who would wait for me to come home?

Who would accept my darkness, my demons, and still call me theirs?

Who will be solely mine…only mine?

A bitter sigh escaped, carrying the emptiness that had taken root inside me—a void that would never be filled. I stepped closer to the edge, drawn by the sea’s silent solace. For a fleeting moment, it felt like it might offer comfort. But then—