Utsav
"You think you can run from me?"
My voice was low-calm, but it cracked through the air like a bullet. The kind of tone that didn't need to rise in pitch to command fear. My grip on the gun tightened just slightly, the cool steel pressing into my palm as if reminding me of its presence. I didn't lift it, not yet. I didn't need to. Not when the weight of silence itself did most of the damage.
The metallic chill of the chair beneath me grounded me in place. I sat still-composed, crisp, untouched by the chaos unfolding around me. The building reeked of rust, rotting cement, and dried blood-the unmistakable scent of violence long past and still lingering. Dust hung in the air like suspended guilt.
He was kneeling just a few feet away from me-shirtless, shaking. A strip of duct tape sealed his mouth, but I could still hear the pathetic muffled whimpers struggling to escape. His body trembled, bruises scattered across his skin like the aftermath of betrayal written in purple and red. His wrists were bound behind his back, his eyes red and swollen, brimming with tears.
But this wasn't his first time facing darkness.
And it sure as hell wasn't mine.
I let my gaze rest on him-unblinking, unreadable. My fingers curled loosely around the gun resting on my knee. It wasn't just a weapon. It was a statement. A symbol. An extension of my will. Of my justice.
His eyes met mine-bloodshot, wide with terror. They were begging, screaming, pleading for mercy.
Mercy?
Utsav Mehrotra and mercy don't belong in the same sentence.
I lifted the slim black file from the table beside me and flipped it open deliberately. The pages inside whispered like blades being unsheathed. I turned it around and held it up for him to see.
"This is the proof," I said quietly.
I let the words hang in the air, waiting just long enough for them to settle into his trembling bones.
"You thought you could do this," I flicked the edge of the file, "and I'd just let you go?"
His pupils quivered. I leaned forward slightly, closing the distance between predator and prey. My voice turned sharper.
"You were with me for three years, Adhyatm. Three damn years. And still, you never understood the one rule I live by."
I narrowed my eyes, my gaze slicing through the air.
"Utsav Mehrotra doesn't forgive. Especially not betrayal."
I let that sentence burn into his conscience before leaning in-just enough for him to feel the rage simmering beneath my calm.
"Game over, Adhyatm."
Then I paused. The silence cracked like thunder in the space between us.
"Or should I say..." I tilted my head slightly, a cold smile tugging at the corner of my lips,
"Future brother-in-law?"
That did it.
His eyes widened in sheer horror.
The blood drained from his face. He began shaking his head violently, as if denial could rewrite history. The tape kept his mouth sealed, but I didn't need to hear him speak to know what he was saying. Please. No. Please, Utsav.
Poor bastard thought dating my sister would grant him immunity.
Poor bastard didn't know how dangerous I can be when it comes to protecting my angel-my Anvi.
He betrayed me. He touched blood. He dared to play games behind my back.
And he thought I wouldn't find out?
He thought wrong.
As soon as I leaned back-cold, detached, and devoid of emotion-he began to thrash violently against the ropes. Desperation had taken full control of him. Panic rolled off him in waves as he struggled for his life, still kneeling on the bloodstained floor. The raw sound of the rope scraping against his wrists, the frantic thud of his knees scraping concrete-it was the music of a dying man's final hope.
I watched him quietly, a silent predator savoring the moment before the kill.
Tears streamed down his bruised face, mixing with blood and sweat. His entire body trembled, muscles convulsing as he writhed in terror. He wasn't just fighting the restraints. He was fighting fate. And fate was mine to decide tonight.
"Should we stop him, boss?"
My most loyal man asked from behind, his voice clipped and cautious.
I didn't answer with words.
Instead, I raised my hand slowly-fingers steady, wrist unwavering-and gestured with a single motion. A command. Stand down. No need for words when fear itself does the talking. My eyes never left the man on the floor.
There was no need to stop him.
Let him struggle. Let him panic. Let him believe-just for a second-that he could claw his way out of this.
I uncrossed my legs, then shifted to cross them again, more comfortably. The weight of the gun remained where it belonged-resting lazily on my knee, glinting in the dim light like a promise. I leaned back slightly, my expression unreadable.
Let him fight. Let him beg.
Because the truth was...
He could never escape.
This wasn't just punishment.
It was theater.
And I was enjoying the show.
His breathing turned ragged-short, broken gasps as he gave in to the futility of resistance. Rope burns flared red on his wrists. His strength was faltering, but he still tried. The fear of death makes even the most broken men crawl toward survival. And I let him.
"Boss?" one of my men asked, his voice low, uncertain, as he looked at the man trembling at my feet.
I didn't respond with words.
I gave a single, sharp nod.
He moved forward, loosened the ropes with methodical precision, then stepped back into silence. The tape remained on his mouth-mercy still withheld.
The ropes slipped off, but the weight of fear didn't.
He stayed kneeling, unmoving for a moment, as if confused by the sudden slack in his restraints. Then he looked up at me-his eyes wide, bloodshot, tear-filled. Confusion warred with hope.
That's when I spoke.
My voice was low. Calm. Controlled.
Too calm.
"Run."
He flinched like a kicked animal. His lips moved under the tape, struggling to form words.
"Please... Utsav... Please..." he whimpered-muffled but unmistakable.
I didn't blink. Didn't flinch. Just stared at him with eyes colder than death.
The silence dragged for just a beat longer.
Then he ran.
Or tried to.
His legs buckled beneath him, barely able to carry his weight. He stumbled across the dust-laden concrete, broken sobs escaping through his taped mouth. Blood and sweat soaked his skin. But still, he ran.
Toward the back of the warehouse.
Toward the kerosene tanks.
I rose from the chair. The metal groaned beneath me, the sound echoing like a ritual being completed.
With slow, deliberate steps, I moved forward-adjusting the cuff of my coat. Not a speck of blood on me. Not a wrinkle out of place. The embodiment of composed destruction.
He reached the tanks, turned his head, eyes locking with mine.
Now he understood.
The tanks weren't just fuel.
They were his grave.
I lifted the gun.
Not aimed at him.
Aimed at what was behind him.
Three tanks. Full of kerosene.
His muffled scream tore through the night, just as my finger pulled the trigger.
BANG.
The tanks erupted. Fire swallowed the darkness. A deafening roar followed as flames soared, bright and brutal, consuming everything in their path. The shockwave pushed heat across the ground like a monster exhaling.
The scream didn't last long.
Silence returned.
I stood still-unshaken, like the storm had bowed before me.
No one spoke.
Because what was there to say?
Adhyatm wasn't just any man. He had been part of my empire for three years. He had shared my table. Laughed beside me. Called me "brother." And still-
Still, he tried to fool me.
Tried to hide his lies behind charm and convenience.
Tried to date my sister.
Tried.
I stared into the fading flames, my voice barely a whisper inside my head:
"You thought I wouldn't know. You thought love would save you. But mercy isn't in my blood, Adhyatm. Especially not when it comes to Anvi."
"It's done."
I said it in a voice sharp and crisp, the kind that closes doors and ends conversations. Without a backward glance, I turned on my heel and walked toward the black car parked just beyond the gates of the abandoned building.
I didn't check if my guards were following. I didn't need to. They always did.
My steps were calm, composed-unbothered by the flames still flickering behind me. As if I hadn't just ordered a man's death. As if this were just another day in my life.
Because for me, it was.
Yes, I am a mafia. A real one.
But not the kind people read about in tabloids or see in poorly made films. I operate in silence. Precision. Like in the operation theatre-cutting what's rotten without blinking.
I don't allow the world to see this version of me. The predator cloaked behind the polished suit. The surgeon with a scalpel in one hand and blood on the other.
My voice echoed behind me, cold and authoritative.
"Clean the mess."
It wasn't a suggestion. It was a command meant to chill the bone.
I didn't need to turn around to ensure it was followed. I already knew my men were scrambling to erase every trace of what had happened here. Loyalty doesn't always come from love. Sometimes, fear is a far more powerful motivator.
And I know how to use fear.
To make men bow. To make silence echo.
"If anyone gets wind of this... you already know what crossing me means." I added, without breaking stride. The door of the car swung open with a soft click.
I slid into the driver's seat like I had all the time in the world.
Outside, nothing looked suspicious. Not the building. Not the car. Not me.
No blood on my hands. No guilt in my eyes.
Adhyatm-he was finished today.
A pawn. A traitor. And unfortunately, my sister's boyfriend.
But he made one fatal mistake:
He thought love would save him.
I started the engine. The low hum was the only sound I needed. My mind, however, was a storm.
Because killing Adhyatm wasn't the end.
Not even close.
My real reason for coming to India after so many years remained untouched. A wound not yet probed. A fire not yet extinguished. And I won't rest until my purpose is fulfilled-ruthlessly, precisely.
If anyone dares to stand in my way... their fate will meet mine.
And I don't save fates.
I shatter them.
Just as I turned onto the highway, my phone buzzed. A call from one of my men-the one I'd instructed to hunt Adhyatm weeks ago.
I answered without a second's pause.
"Speak."
His voice stammered, already cracking under pressure.
"Sir... we're still failing to locate him. It's like he vanished into thin air. We found his belongings in Delhi. His clothes, his phone. Everything he left behind before he disappeared..."
He paused. I could hear him trying to control his breathing, collecting courage just to speak to me.
"Sir... I think... he's dead."
My grip on the phone tightened. My jaw clenched, a silent rage vibrating beneath my skin.
"Dead?" I repeated slowly, my tone dangerously calm.
Then I let out a cold smirk.
"I don't want him dead," I said, mockery dripping from each word. "He's my sister's boyfriend. She loves him... a lot. If anything happens to him, I'll kill you. Do you understand?"
Before he could stammer out a reply, I ended the call.
I placed the phone back in the compartment, fingers steady.
What a game I was playing.
I had already killed Adhyatm.
Watched him burn.
And here I was... pretending to look for him.
Like a madman playing chess with ghosts.
To the world, I wasn't a murderer. I was the concerned brother. The calculating protector.
The man who would move heaven and earth to keep his sister's heart from breaking.
What an illusion.
That's the art I've mastered.
I don't just kill people.
I erase them.
Piece by piece.
Layer by layer.
Until the world forgets they ever existed.
That's how I disappear people.
Not with bullets.
But with silence.
And Adhyatm
He was already fading!
-----
Evening draped the Mehrotra mansion in gold and shadows.
And ever since I had stepped back inside its gates, two women had kept their eyes fixed on me like hawks circling prey-Aditi Pandey and her ever-loyal shadow, Ishanvi. The intensity of their stares was not the usual gossip-laced amusement they often wore around me, like I was just some intriguing mystery they hadn't yet solved.
No.
This was different.
Their eyes didn't twinkle with curiosity today. They burned with suspicion.
Yet, outwardly, I remained composed. My expression unreadable, my stride calm. I didn't acknowledge their scrutiny, nor did I let them know that I could feel it pressing into my back like a dagger. Years in the underground world had taught me one thing above all: never let your enemy-or your inquisitor-know what you know.
But their third accomplice in chaos was missing.
Maya Shekhawat.
The same woman who, just yesterday, had dared to sneak into my private room and steal my mother's photograph-the only memory I kept guarded like a sacred relic. She hadn't shown her face since. Not in the hallways. Not at the dining table. Not even to fuel her usual, irritatingly bold banter.
That absence wasn't just strange-it was unsettling.
These women had always looked at me like I was a puzzle they were desperate to solve. But today, their glances weren't curious. They were accusatory. As if they believed I had something to do with Maya's disappearance.
As if I had kidnapped her.
Ridiculous.
Why in God's name would I want her around me any longer than necessary? Maya Shekhawat was a walking storm-a mess wrapped in lipstick and confidence. I didn't need chaos like her in my life, not even for a second.
And yet, here I was... pausing halfway between Aditya's room and mine, with their stares burning holes into my back and Maya's absence echoing in the hallways like a silent alarm.
Where the hell are you, Maya?
And more importantly-what are you up to now?
Just as I reached the top of the staircase, a soft, hesitant voice sliced through the quiet corridor like a whisper through smoke.
"Do you... do you know where Maya is?"
I halted mid-step.
Turned slowly.
Aditi stood there, clutching the fabric of her dupatta as though it might hold her upright. Her fingers were white around the edges, her body tense, eyes wide with uncertainty. She wasn't just being nosy now-she was genuinely worried. Nervous. On edge.
Her gaze searched mine for something.
A hint of concern.
A clue.
A confession, maybe.
But I gave her none.
"No, Miss Pandey."
My voice was flat. Unyielding. Sharp as glass.
The message was clear: I wasn't open to further conversation.
Without waiting for her response, I turned and walked the final stretch to my room, shutting the door behind me with deliberate calmness.
But inside?
A thought churned, quiet and cold.
Maya's gone.
And for some reason, her absence... it bothered me.
Not because I cared.
But because when someone like her goes missing-it's rarely without a storm following.
People like Maya Shekhawat, when they disappear without a word, it doesn't just raise eyebrows-it brings storms.
Where is she? Did she find out something she wasn't supposed to?
These questions circled in my mind like vultures over a carcass, picking at my calm exterior. But I remained still, seated in my room with a glass of whiskey in hand, pretending nothing unusual had happened. I don't panic. I calculate. I control.
A knock broke my thoughts.
"Bhai, can I come in?" Aditya's voice was steady, almost too calm.
"Come," I instructed, my tone flat.
He entered with his hands tucked in his pockets, his posture stiff.
"Maya is missing."
I didn't even blink. "Miss Shekhawat is missing? She's not a child, Aadi. Perhaps she went home without informing anyone."
I shrugged and took another sip of my drink, waving away his worry like it was a mosquito buzzing in my ear.
"No bhai, it's not normal. Aditi said she abruptly stood up during breakfast and just walked out. Didn't say a word. Is it because of your little stunt last night?"
I lowered the glass and looked at him, eyes sharp, voice sharper.
"Little stunt? She stole my mother's picture from my room, Aadi. That was no child's play. She crossed a line, and I showed her what happens when you do that in my world. I just gave her a trailer, a glimpse of what I'm capable of. You call that a stunt? Grow up."
He poured himself a drink, his jaw tightening. "Threatening to remove her dress in front of the guests? That isn't you, bhai. That's not the man I know."
I scoffed and sat on the bed. "It was a threat. An empty one. I didn't touch her. You know that."
"I do. And I'm thankful you didn't. But bhai, she hasn't been seen or heard from since. She's not answering her calls. Aditi is scared."
Of course she is. Aditi always cared too much.
"I don't know where she is, Aadi. Miss Shekhawat is a grown woman. She knows how to throw tantrums and disappear dramatically. She'll come back. Just wait."
I moved to grab a towel from my wardrobe, ready to end this pointless conversation, but then his next words froze me mid-step.
"I hope so, bhai, because Aditi said she saw Maya leave right after you did this morning. She looked determined. Said she might be following you."
My hand clenched around the towel.
Following me?
To that place?
To that moment?
A wave of rage surged through my chest. My knuckles turned white from the grip. That spoiled little brat had the audacity to follow me? To an abandoned building, where death breathed through the walls? Where I killed a man and left nothing but ashes behind?
She played a dangerous game. And now she's gone.
No contact. No trail.
Not because she's lost. But because she knows.
She saw something she was never meant to. Something I never intended anyone outside my world to witness. And now, she hides. But not for long.
"She was about to follow me?" I asked, my voice low, deadly.
"I'm not sure, bhai. Aditi just said Maya stood up and left the moment you did."
So it was true.
She followed me. She saw. And now she thinks she can outrun the consequences.
Let her run. Let her taste what it's like to fear the dark corners of this world.
Because I will find her. And when I do, there will be no mercy.
She crossed into my territory-and here, mistakes are crimes. And crimes demand punishment.
No god. No lover. No sister. Nothing will be able to save her.
I tossed the towel aside and stepped into the bathroom, my thoughts a storm of fury and resolve.
Run, Maya. Run far, run fast. Because the longer you run, the more thrilling the hunt becomes.
And I always finish what I start.
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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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