UTSAV
This wedding preparation. The chaos, the decorations, the endless lights-all of it for Aadi's self-destruction. The brightness only highlights the lack of depth in this celebration. It's all a mess. How could a man willingly choose such a path toward his own downfall-marriage? The whole affair is already grating on my nerves. And don't even get me started on his immature friends, who only know how to get drunk and dance to some ridiculous song. It's as if they're trying to tell the world that marriage is a beautiful union, when in reality, it's nothing more than a hellish trap.
And now, Aadi's left for some 'important work,' leaving me here in this mansion to deal with all this madness. He told me Aditi's friends were coming soon, to help her with the mehndi function. Great, just what I need-another bombshell to add to the mix. Her so-called "best friend" will be here any minute. But frankly, I couldn't care less about meeting anyone. I'd rather be left alone, away from all of this.
So here I am, in the gym, drenched in sweat and shirtless. The heat is suffocating. Or maybe it's the fire burning inside me that's making the air feel even heavier. The fire I've buried beneath years of calm composure, simmering just below the surface, threatening to consume me every time I push myself too hard. I'm lifting weights, but it's not just the physical strain I'm trying to outrun. It's the constant battle with myself, my own demons. I feel like I'm fighting an endless war-one I'm not sure I'll win.
The night still lingers like a shadow I can't shake off. Every time I push myself too far in a workout, it's not just about discipline or strength anymore. It's something else entirely-something I can't quite put into words. The rage. The frustration. The buried screams. The chaos that once erupted around me and now lives within me, tightly sealed beneath the surface of my calm, collected façade.
With one final set, I dropped the weights and stood still for a moment, breath heavy, sweat sliding down my chest. I grabbed a towel and wiped my face as if I could erase the past along with the sweat. Futile, but routine. It's the small lies we tell ourselves that keep us functioning.
I stepped out of the gym, my movements slow, deliberate-every step a silent declaration of control. In the hallway, Raghav stood waiting with a glass of juice, a couple of housekeepers behind him like obedient shadows. None of them dared to meet my gaze. Good. Over the years, I've learned one truth that rarely fails: fear is the purest form of authority. And nothing is more satisfying than watching people tremble at the mere sight of me.
I ignored them all and kept walking down the corridor, my jaw tight, mind still tangled in the ghosts of my past. That's when my eyes caught her.
A woman-early twenties, maybe twenty-five-was standing by the pool on the third floor, her silhouette backlit by the soft ambient lights. A body-hugging black dress wrapped around her like a second skin, heels clicking faintly as she wandered near the edge. Long, jet-black hair fell past her waist, catching the faint breeze and dancing lightly in the air. But it was her eyes-green, intense, alive-that captured me for a moment longer than I intended.
She didn't see me, not yet. But I saw her. And in that instant, I knew-this woman carried fire. Not the kind that warms... the kind that burns everything in its path if left unchecked. And for reasons I didn't want to name, I couldn't look away.
Damn. A spoiled brat strutting in heels around a damp poolside-what a brilliant idea.
I knew she was going to slip. Anyone with half a brain could see it coming from a mile away. Should I warn her? Tell her to be careful?
No. Let her learn. That's how people grow-by falling, by bleeding a little. Watching others make mistakes never really teaches anything. Pain has to be personal for it to become a lesson.
External motivation is a joke. It's like the wind-comes and goes as it pleases. But inner motivation... now that's a storm. When it hits, it consumes everything in its path. That's why I never interfere. When people stumble on their own, the lesson imprints like a scar.
I stood there, arms crossed, silently watching her every move. Was I staring? No. I was reading her. There's a difference.
She wasn't like the usual empty-headed glam dolls that buzz around weddings, laughing too loud and thinking too little. No, this one was different. She had a presence-like a magnet. The kind that could pull everything in or cause a damn implosion if pushed too far.
I wasn't interested. Not in the way normal men would be. But something about her made me stay longer than necessary. That defiance in her walk. That fire in her aura. I don't get distracted easily-but she was... unsettling.
I kept watching, knowing the inevitable was seconds away. I admit, there's a strange thrill in watching people fall-especially when they do it at their own hands. It's not cruelty. It's just... truth. A kind of justice. Gravity doesn't discriminate, and neither do I.
And then it happened.
As expected, her heel slipped. Her eyes widened, panic flashing across her face as she gasped, struggling to regain her balance. For a second, she flailed like a fragile leaf caught in a storm.
Did I rush to help her?
No.
I wasn't driven by concern or chivalry. I simply didn't want an accident on Aadi's big day-especially not one involving Aditi's friend. That would only turn into unnecessary drama. Aadi had already warned me someone from her circle would be arriving early to help with the mehndi arrangements. This had to be her.
She wasn't going to fall into the pool-no, her trajectory was toward the hard, damp marble floor. A nasty injury was seconds away. And while I didn't care for her safety, I had no interest in letting chaos unfold under my watch.
So I moved.
Quickly. Precisely.
My hand shot out, gripping her wrist just in time. Her body jolted, frozen mid-fall as my grasp anchored her. And then her gaze met mine.
Those eyes-green, soft, yet stormy-held something wild in them. Her lips, slightly parted and painted with a bold red, trembled in shock. She stared at me as if she couldn't process what had just happened. As if she wasn't sure whether she was terrified... or fascinated.
My own eyes didn't waver. I stared back with the same intensity I gave to everything in my life-a fierce, unreadable, and calculating gaze.
She was beautiful. That much I'd give her. But beauty never impressed me. It's as common as dust in my world. What intrigued me was the contradiction in her-her fire. There was something in her posture, in her refusal to crumble under my presence, that spoke volumes. She didn't strike me as another vulnerable, brainless doll floating through life. No-this one had claws. A dangerous ambition glimmered behind her gaze, like she was capable of turning kingdoms to ash if she wanted.
Her eyes wandered for a brief second-down my shirtless chest, across the sweat tracing the lines of my torso. She didn't even try to hide the way she looked at me, like she was trying to memorize every detail.
Another foolish squirrel... stepping right into the lion's den.
I tilted my head slightly, my expression unreadable.
"Are you always this graceful?" I asked, my voice low, slow-laced with quiet amusement.
Her eyes narrowed, the green in them flaring with something bold, though her heartbeat was still hammering in her chest. I could see it in the pulse at her neck.
"Only when I have an unexpected audience," she shot back, her tone recovering its steadiness with surprising speed.
Interesting.
No hesitation. No flustered thank-you or blushing retreat like most women might have done under my gaze. Instead, a sharp-tongued reply. Bold.
I didn't smile. Not even a smirk.
Silently, I pulled her up with effortless ease, setting her back on her feet as if she weighed nothing. And truly, compared to me-she was nothing. But the fire in her voice... that was not something I expected. Very few had ever dared to snap back at me like that.
My eyes lingered on her for a second longer. Just a second. Then I turned, walking away-offering no name, no curiosity about hers.
Do I care? Not in the slightest.
"Maya," she blurted out behind me. Her voice was slightly unsteady, rushed. "Maya Sekhawat."
I paused.
"And you're Utsav Mehrotra, right?"
She knew me. Impressive. And still... not intimidated. Either she was brave-or a fool.
I didn't bother turning to face her. Just gave a sharp, almost mechanical nod.
"Keep your eyes open when you wander around the mansion," I said, my voice clipped, cold, without softness. "And yes... this is Utsav."
And with that, I walked away.
Calm. Cold. As always!
----
Maya? Maya Shekhawat?
The name rolled off my tongue with a strange bitterness, an undertone of past experience tangled with recognition. Familiar-of course it was. The same name Raghav had mentioned earlier. A rising star in the Bollywood industry, known for her sweet voice and wild reputation.
The same woman who created that road-side circus with the media just days ago, when I was returning to the mansion.
And she-bold as fire-had dared to shout, "Tumhare baap ka raaj hai kya?"
Interesting.
Spoiled brat. Impulsive. She acts before she thinks, moves like she owns the world. And yet... she's not like the rest. Not like those mindless women who crave attention and crumble with a single command. No, she's different-fiery, unpredictable, defiant. Still, all her stardom and luxury mean nothing to me. Fame doesn't grant you power here. Respect does. And if she doesn't learn that soon... she'll end up walking straight into the chaos she stirs.
When I caught her at the edge of that fall, she looked at me like she was intrigued-hooked even.
Not that I blame her.
Many are.
But that doesn't mean she gets a free pass into my world. Into me.
She should tread carefully.
My thoughts were still circling around her, annoyingly persistent, when my phone vibrated.
Anvi.
My sister.
A faint smile tugged at my lips as I picked up the call.
"Already missing me, angel?" My voice was softer now, touched with an affection few ever heard from me.
"Missing you?" she huffed. "Why would I miss my heartless brother?"
My eyebrow arched in amusement. "So, angel is angry? What have I done now?"
She didn't wait. "Oh please, bhai! I'm so mad at you. I'm 27 now, and you still treat me like a child. Who the hell sends a detective to stalk their sister's boyfriend?"
Her frustration was real. I could hear it in her voice.
Adhyatm.
Her so-called boyfriend.
Something about him rubbed me the wrong way-his smile too polished, his background too convenient. But Anvi liked him. She was even talking about engagement. I couldn't interfere... not openly. Not yet.
"I had to be sure he's the right one for you," I said calmly. "You know how much I care. I'm just... looking out for you."
"By invading my entire dating life?" she snapped.
"Angel," I said, my voice steady, "don't stress yourself. It's your final term, right? Focus on that. Give it your best. We miss you."
She sighed. The tension in her voice melted just a little. "Fine. I'll let it go this time. But promise me you won't do it again. I really love him, bhai... and he hasn't answered my calls in two days. I think he's mad at me because of your little stunt."
That made my jaw tighten.
Ignoring her?
Bad move.
I don't like anyone who disrespects my sister-not even by silence.
I smirked slightly, leaning back against the wall. Perhaps he's not picking up because he's been too busy explaining himself to someone else-someone I sent.
"I'll talk to him," I said, my tone calm but firm. "Don't worry, angel. He'll call. Trust me."
"I hope so," she muttered, clearly still annoyed.
"Now stop worrying and get back to your studies," I added with a final note of authority. "Do well. Then come home. We're waiting."
"Hmm... fine. Bye, bhai," she said, her voice lighter now.
"Bye, angel," I replied.
The call ended.
And for a moment, the air around me felt a little less heavy.
As the call disconnected, my mind immediately drifted back to one name that had been gnawing at the edges of my control.
Adhyatm.
The man I couldn't tolerate for even a second.
Not for Anvi.
Not for anyone.
There was something about him-too polished, too perfect, too... calculated. He was the kind who knew how to speak the right words at the right time, but men like him always had dirt buried underneath that gleaming exterior.
Anvi, sweet and naive, believed the world was as kind as she was.
But life doesn't work like that.
People like Adhyatm don't come without secrets.
And right now, the most important issue wasn't just who he was-but where he was.
Gone.
Vanished.
No calls. No texts. No trace.
Anvi thought I had only sent a detective to trail him.
But that was only a fragment of the truth.
Adhyatm had been missing for a week.
And I was already on the hunt.
I pulled my phone out, dialing a secure number, the one reserved for jobs that needed... urgency.
The moment it connected, I spoke without pause, my voice low, firm, laced with lethal calm.
"Find him. Alive. I don't want a corpse. If I get even a scratch on his body instead of answers... you know what that means."
A pause. A shiver on the other end.
"Y-Yes, sir... Understood. We'll find him," came the voice, breathless, anxious.
I didn't bother replying. I ended the call with a tap, the screen going black like the quiet before a storm.
Adhyatm.
I clenched my jaw, staring into the dimness of the corridor ahead as if my thoughts could burn through the walls. I hated the way his name lingered, like a sour taste that wouldn't fade. And I hated even more the thought of Anvi's heart breaking over someone who didn't even have the decency to stay in her life.
She thought I was just overprotective, the overbearing brother who couldn't let her date in peace.
But she didn't know what I knew.
She didn't see what I'd seen.
And most importantly-she didn't know he was missing.
I'd found his phone.
Abandoned in his last known hotel room in Delhi.
Cleaned out. No sign of a struggle. No note. Just silence. The kind of silence that whispered of something far more sinister.
And now... I was her only thread holding the illusion together.
I'd been replying to her messages from his phone, pretending to be him-sending vague excuses to delay the inevitable heartbreak.
Because if she knew the truth-that he was gone without a trace-her heart would shatter.
And if a single tear dared to escape her eyes because of him...
Then the world would cry in return.
I wasn't just a brother.
I wasn't just a man.
I was a fire. Cold on the outside, burning within.
And if someone dared to hurt the only piece of my heart that still beat in this hollow chest-
They'd better pray the earth swallows them before I arrive.
Because I don't forget.
I don't forgive.
And I never, ever let go.
Not until I've burned the guilt into the skin of the sinner.
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"Do let me know your thoughts about this chapter in the comments section. If you liked it, please don't forget to vote. Your single vote is enough to give me the courage to keep writing more.
And please, don't judge the characters solely based on the starting chapters. There's so much yet to unfold. Especially Utsav - I know his personality might seem negative at times, but trust me, he's about to go through a powerful journey of transformation.
Let the story breathe a little before forming opinions. Big twists are coming."
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