(Author’s POV)
In the cramped, forgotten attic of a decaying house, a girl slept. Sunlight filtered through the grimy attic window, casting a golden glow on her skin, so pale it seemed almost translucent. Even in sleep, with her dark lashes fanning across her cheeks, there was a fragile beauty to her. She was lost, perhaps, in a dream of a life she didn't have, when a brutal jolt of icy water shattered the peace.
Gasping, she sat bolt upright, the thin blanket soaked and clinging to her. Then came the voice she despised the most. “Wake up, you ungrateful girl! It’s morning. If you want to see the inside of your college today, the chores won’t do themselves.”
A silent fire blazed behind Aradhaya’s eyes, but the promise she made to her dying grandmother was a chain around her will. She swallowed the scathing words that clawed at her throat and rose from the mattress. She was Aradhaya, twenty years old, an orphan living as a ghost in the house which was hers. Her aunt and uncle offered her this suffocating space as charity, a debt she repaid in silence and servitude. Her silence was a cage, but her scholarship to a top-tier university was the key. She earned her own money through part-time jobs, building a life for herself one small step at a time.
(Aradhaya’s POV)
“Arghh, Mami ji and her daily drama,” I muttered under my breath, my hands clenching as I wrung out my wet clothes. “Maan karta hai inke haat pair tod ke inhe ek kone mai patak du.”
(I feel like breaking their arms and legs and tossing them in a corner.)
The thought was a dark, satisfying warmth in my chest. “Agar Nani ko inko kuch na karne ka promise na kiya hota toh aaj inn sab ki kabar zameen ke das feet niche hoti aur inka chapter hamesha ke liye closed. Don’t worry Aradhaya inka hisab ek din barabar karugi vo bhi sood samet.”
(If I hadn't promised Grandma I wouldn't do anything to them, then their graves would be ten feet under the ground by now and their chapter would have been closed forever. Don’t worry Aradhaya one day I will settle all the debt with interest)
With that, I pushed the dark thoughts down. That was enough poison for one morning. Time to execute the plan: finish the chores, escape to college. College was my sanctuary my safe haven, the one place where I could breathe air that wasn't thick with bitterness and cruelty that I face in my own home. It was the only reason I pushed forward, looking toward the day ahead.
Author’s POV:
AT NIGHT TIME
Deep in the forest, the huge mansion was made of dark stone and black glass. With its sharp, clean lines and deep shadows, it looked cold and unwelcoming. The air around the house felt heavy and cold, giving it a powerful and scary feeling that warned everyone to keep their distance. It wasn't just a building; it was a statement of power, radiating an aura of disciplined menace that chilled the very air.
Inside, in a stark, cold room, a man was bound to a chair. His expensive suit was torn, his face a canvas of blood and terror. The air smelled of his fear—a sharp, coppery scent. “Leave me!” he begged the silent guards in black, his voice hoarse. “I haven’t done anything! Why am I here?”
His pleas echoed and died against the stone. Then, a new sound emerged from the long hallway—the measured, confident tap of expensive boots against marble. As a figure emerged from the shadows, every drop of color drained from the prisoner’s face. He began to tremble violently.
“Boss…” he stammered, the name catching in his throat like a shard of glass.
The man, Ashvik Rajvansh, stopped before him. He moved with a predator’s grace, his presence so immense it seemed to suck the very oxygen from the room. His voice, when he spoke, was eerily calm, like silk draped over steel.
“Did you truly believe, Mr. Khanna, that you could sell the secrets of my business to my rivals, and I would remain ignorant? To think me a fool… was a fatal miscalculation.”
He circled the chair, his movements fluid and predatory. “You are now left with two options. A slow, meticulously painful death… or a swift one. The choice is yours, but do decide quickly. My patience is a finite resource.”
Khanna’s mind screamed, but no sound came out. He knew Ashvik’s reputation. He was not a man of empty threats; he was a sculptor of suffering. Before Khanna could even form a coherent thought, Ashvik’s calm voice cut through the silence again. “Time’s up.”
From his jacket, Ashvik produced a pistol. It was a Beretta Px4, compact, its polished metal gleaning under the single overhead light. He admired it for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Do you know why this is my favorite, Khanna?” he asked, his tone conversational. He wiped an imaginary speck of dust from the barrel. “Because its bullet doesn't just pass through. It shatters on impact. It turns bone to dust.”
A heart-wrenching shriek, guttural and raw, was torn from Khanna’s throat as Ashvik fired. The shot to his knee wasn't a clean wound; it was an explosion of pain that sent him into the black abyss of unconsciousness.
“Have the doctor attend to him,” Ashvik commanded the guards, his voice returning to its placid calm as he tucked the pistol away. “Ensure he remains alive. I’m not finished with him yet.” He turned and walked away without a backward glance. “Tell Sanjh to prepare for the meeting at the hotel.”
Later, in the presidential suite of a towering hotel, the pillars of his organization, ‘THE DEVILS,’ awaited him. The name alone was a whisper of death in the underworld. They rose in unison as he entered.
Kanika, her face a mask of sweet innocence, looked up from a laptop displaying cascading lines of code—a genius hacker and spy hidden in plain sight.
Beside her stood Sanjh, Ashvik’s right hand. A man who lived in the shadows, he was the silent architect of their logistics and the secret blade who erased their enemies without a trace.
And observing them all from a corner was Kailash, a man with the cunning eyes of a fox. He was the old wolf, the one who had kept the organization alive and forged the boy, Ashvik, into the merciless king he was today.
And at the center of it all was Ashvik Rajvansh. The king, the commander, the merciless strategist who had transformed a feared mafia group into the untouchable corporate behemoth known as the RAJVANSH EMPIRE. The meeting began, another night of secrets and power unfolding in the heart of the city.
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