The Devangan estate shimmered like a kingdom built on sin.
Crystal chandeliers burned through the smoky air, the scent of whiskey and gun oil mixing beneath the perfume of women who belonged to powerful men.
Laughter echoed, but it never reached the eyes of those who laughed.
This was not a celebration.
It was a gathering of wolves dressed in silk.
Rudra Devangan stood apart near the balcony, cigarette burning low between his fingers. He wore a black suit sleek, effortless and his silence was heavier than any speech that night. Around him, politicians, business tycoons, and the occasional law officer moved like chess pieces, every word sharpened with intent.
From the grand staircase, Arvind Devangan descended with the poise of a man who had built his empire from dust and blood.
At his side, his wife Aaradhya the only softness in this palace of fire , smiled gracefully, greeting guests with warmth that almost disguised the cold steel of their legacy.
“Where’s Rudra?” Arvind asked as he shook another man’s hand.
“Brooding, as always,” Mihir replied lightly, swirling champagne in his glass. “You’d think he’s allergic to people.”
Arvind gave a short smile, but his eyes searched the room until they found his eldest son.
“Brooding men rule better than smiling fools,” he murmured.
Mihir rolled his eyes but said nothing.
The room shifted when Rudra moved. Conversations faltered, laughter dimmed. Even among the elite, his presence demanded silence.
He didn’t greet anyone unless he had to.
He didn’t need to.
“Devangan,” a voice greeted calm, steady, official.
Rudra turned slightly to see Manoj Singh Rajput, IPS Officer of Jaipur, standing near the bar. The man’s sharp uniform had been replaced by a neatly cut suit, but the authority remained in his posture.
“Officer Rajput,” Rudra said, extending a hand. “Didn’t expect to see the law in my father’s court.”
Manoj smiled faintly. “Sometimes, law and power meet halfway. Keeps the peace.”
“Or hides the truth,” Rudra replied, smirking.
Their handshake was brief , firm. Both men understood the language of control, though they lived on opposite sides of it.
Arvind joined them, glass in hand. “Ah, Rajput! Good to see you here. Jaipur’s finest. My son should take notes.”
rudra's jaw tightened . “I don’t take notes, father. I make them.”
Mihir, somewhere behind them, nearly choked on his drink. “He really said that.”
The men around laughed softly out of respect, or fear, none could tell.
Then, amidst the warmth and noise, Mrunal approached quietly. His expression was wrong. Too tense. Too deliberate.
“Bhai,” he murmured, low enough that only Rudra could hear. “We got word from Jaipur.”
Rudra’s brows drew together slightly. “What word?”
Mrunal handed him a folded note, the edges smudged from haste. “Someone placed money on a hit. Female, early twenties. The file says Rajput’s daughter.”
Rudra’s eyes flicked briefly toward Manoj, who was deep in conversation with Arvind. His voice was steady when he spoke again. “Who’s the contractor?”
“Eastern ring,” Mrunal said grimly. “Possibly retaliation from the failed shipment. They’re using civilians now to make noise.”
Rudra’s jaw flexed once. He stubbed his cigarette on the railing, turned, and crossed the hall with that quiet, cold authority that silenced even music.
“Rajput,” he called, voice low but commanding.
Manoj turned, brows raising. “Yes?”
Rudra’s tone didn’t shift. “Keep your daughter inside for the next few days.”
Manoj blinked, confused. “I beg your pardon?”
Rudra stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Someone’s been paid to find her. Whether it’s a scare or a message, I don’t care but it’s coming from my world, which means you don’t ignore it.”
Manoj’s gaze hardened. “And why are you telling me this, Mr. Devangan?”
Rudra’s eyes were unreadable. “Because I don’t like debts. And I don’t like mistakes.”
A beat of silence. The air around them stilled.
Then Manoj nodded once. “Thank you.”
Rudra’s lips curved faintly not a smile, but something colder. “Don’t thank me. Just keep her safe.”
He turned away before Manoj could respond, already lost in the crowd again, smoke curling around his silhouette like armor.
Manoj stood still for a long time. Then he pulled out his phone, stepping out onto the balcony.
“Meera?” he said as soon as the line connected.
His voice was calm, but the edge was unmistakable. “Beta, don’t leave the house tonight. Or tomorrow. Not for anything. Promise me.”
Meera laughed softly. “Dad, you sound like there’s a curfew again. What’s wrong?”
“Promise me, Meera.”
She sighed, sensing something different in his tone. “Okay, okay, I promise.” Manoj ended the call.
Manoj ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket.
The unease remained.
Years in uniform had taught him one thing instinct rarely knocked twice
Author Pov
Across the city, oblivious to the storm gathering around her, Anvitha stood outside her hostel gates.
The night air was cool against her skin.
She had been unable to sleep.
Again.
The familiar walls of her room had begun closing in around her, memories crawling from dark corners she had spent years trying to bury.
So she walked.
Just for a little while.
The streets were nearly empty. A tea stall glowed at the corner . A few motorcycles passed. Nothing unusual. Nothing threatening.
At least, not at first. Anvitha didn't notice the black SUV moving slowly behind her.....
Didn't notice the men inside comparing her face to a blurred photograph. ''That's her.''
''You sure?''
''Rajputh's daughter . Same height. ame age. Same face shape.''
the man in the passenger seat nodded. ''Take her''
A chill ran down Anvitha's spine.
She stopped walking. She stopped walking.
For some reason, every instinct inside her screamed. RUN .
She glanced behind her. The SUV had stopped.
The rear door opened. Three men stopped out.
Her heart dropped. The first man smiled. It wasn't a pleasant smile.
Anvitha turned and ran. FAST.
Her sandals sapped against the pavement as panic exploded through her chest. Behind her came shouting. Footsteps.
The sound of a vehicle accelerating. She cut into narrow lane. Then another. Breathing hard. Terrified . But moving .
Admist of the fear she got an idea, looked around and found that she brought herself the time to call for help as she knew the exact person to dial. She kept her hand in her sling bag, barely hanging on her shoulders and hurriedly searched for her phone and dialed the only person she could thin of . MANOJ UNCLE, the name flashed as she clicked the call button. The call got connected after a few rings but for Anvitha with each ring her heartbeat was about to stop.
''Hello? Anvi beta?'', Manoj replied calmly not knowing the storm Anvitha was in.
''U-un-uncle'' her voice came out as if she was choking perhaps yes, she was, with the fear.
Manoj got up from his seat. Face expression unreadable.
''HELLO?! Anvi beta! what happened?! where are you?!''
Anvitha after gathering all her strength replied, ''uncle s-someone is trying to ch-chasing me, I-I exactly d-do-don't know which street but its near my ho-hostel''
A hand caught her wrist. Anvitha reacted instantly . She twisted, drove her elbow backward , and heard a curse.
While in call Manoj hearing Anvitha's scream came out of the phone , and Manoj in utter shock and terrified not able to think what's next
suddenly the call got disconnected after a loud cracking sound
The man took Anvitha's phone and hit the ground hard enough to shatter it into million pieces.
Anvitha stood in shock. Another grabbed her shoulder. She bit down hard enough to draw blood.
A scream echoed in the background.
The call ended.
Manoj stood frozen.
For the first time in years, the officer disappeared.
Only the father remained.
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hoii guyzz!! i hope you all are doing very well sorry for the late we were a bit caught up in studies sooo.... here we go!! another interesting chapter let us know your opinions and reviews in the comment section we will surely implement them
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