Utsav
"How the hell did this happen?"
I leaned back in the leather chair, one leg crossed over the other, the stem of a wine glass gripped between my fingers. The deep burgundy liquid shimmered under the chandelier light, much like the rage simmering in my veins.
Across from me, my men stood in a tight line-heads bowed, shoulders stiff with tension. Not one dared to meet my eyes.
"One girl," I said, voice low, calm, dangerous. "A woman managed to tail me all the way to the warehouse, captured everything-and none of you even noticed? Not one of you suspected a thing?"
The silence that followed was thick, suffocating.
I didn't need to raise my voice. I never did. The weight of my silence alone was enough to make trained men sweat.
My grip tightened on the glass. If I'd squeezed any harder, it would've shattered.
"I want an answer," I repeated, a quiet fury threading every syllable. "You all are trained, handpicked for your precision and instincts, yet a single woman made a mockery of that. How?"
"Sir, we... we don't know how she managed it," one of them stammered. "We're sorry-"
"Sorry won't cut it in my world," I said, cutting him off coldly. "You know this better than anyone. I could shoot you all right here for this mistake."
Every man flinched-except one.
Reyansh.
He stepped forward, voice composed and steady. "If that's what you decide, I won't stop you. But give us one chance to redeem ourselves. We won't disappoint you again. We'll eliminate the girl."
I stared at him for a beat, the corner of my mouth twitching-not quite a smile, but something close. That's what I liked about Reyansh. He never feared me. Not because he thought he could win-but because he was loyal to his bones.
"Second chances don't exist in my world," I said, rising slowly from the chair, tucking both hands in my pockets. "You all made a mistake. You will pay the price."
A few men swallowed hard. Reyansh held my gaze, unflinching.
"And as for Maya," I added, my voice like steel wrapped in silk, "she's mine to deal with. I don't want any of you near her. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir," they chorused.
"Good. You're dismissed."
They turned quickly, each footstep echoing in retreat-except Reyansh, who hesitated just a moment.
"Where's Kabir?" I asked without turning.
Reyansh exhaled quietly. "He's isolating himself again. You know how he is."
A flicker of something-faint, buried, but real-flicked through my chest. Vulnerability, maybe. Or guilt.
Of course, I knew. Kabir always did this when the weight grew too heavy, when the shadows inside him dragged too deep.
"Send him whatever he needs-money, supplies, whatever. And tell him," I paused, finally turning to face Reyansh, "I want him back. With me."
Reyansh nodded with a look of silent understanding before exiting the room.
Once I was alone, I set the wine glass down and walked over to the window. The city sprawled out before me, glittering in the night-so full of life, of danger, of secrets.
Kabir was the only man I trusted with everything. He'd bled for me. Killed for me. If I ever called someone family, it would be him. But I couldn't afford those attachments-not in this world.
He worked under me. I was his boss.
And no matter how much I respected him, I had to keep it that way.
Because in this world, even love was a liability. And loyalty? Loyalty was the only currency that mattered.
I stood on the balcony, gazing up at the endless night sky, its darkness mirroring the storm within me. The distant sound of city horns faded under the hum of silence that surrounded me here-at the top, above it all. My thoughts, however, weren't quiet.
Kabir.
And now... Maya.
A pair of hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor, growing louder with each step. My body stilled. A second later, she burst through the door.
Maya.
The very headache I'd warned not to cross lines was now standing in front of me, breathless, her eyes wild with urgency. And after everything, she still had the audacity to barge into my space like this.
I slid both hands into my pockets, straightened my spine, and turned fully toward her. I didn't speak. I didn't need to. My silence was enough to let her know she was walking on dangerous ground.
"M-Mr. Mehrotra," she panted, one hand over her chest as she struggled to catch her breath. "It's Shravni... my friend... she's been kidnapped."
She said it like I was supposed to care.
I stared at her, unblinking, unmoved. Then I asked, voice low and laced with derision, "Is this some kind of police station that you've come running to me?"
I stepped forward slowly, and like a moth sensing the heat of the flame, she instinctively stepped back. But she didn't retreat fully. No-of course not. Maya Shekhawat never backed down, even when she should.
"I'm not running a rescue center, Miss Shekhawat," I said coolly, my tone a clear dismissal. "This isn't a charity mission. You may leave."
I turned my back to her, assuming she would take the cue. But I'd underestimated her persistence. Again.
"I know you're not a cop," she said firmly, her voice steadier now. "And this isn't some help desk. But you're powerful. You're Utsav. A man the world fears. A man who can save her."
I froze for half a second as I heard my name fall from her lips-not just my name, but my name. Not sir, not Mr. Mehrotra.
"Utsav."
The way she said it made something twist sharply in my chest. But I turned, my eyes dark and cold as they locked with hers. Her vulnerable green eyes-so defiant even in fear-held mine like a challenge.
"It's Mr. Mehrotra for you," I said, my tone razor-sharp, calm but cutting. "And as for saving her... it's not my job. She's your friend. Your headache."
But still, she stood her ground. Her eyes pleaded, but her spine remained unshaken.
"Please, Mr. Mehrotra," she said softly, desperation in her voice. "Please... I won't say your name again. Just help me once. My friend's in danger. Or do you want me to create chaos at your cousin's wedding?"
There it was.
She played her card-and she played it well.
"You always said you didn't want any drama at Aditya's wedding," she added. "If Shravni's kidnapping becomes public, it'll be chaos. And the men who took her?" Her voice dropped, steady and pointed. "They're your rivals."
I narrowed my eyes, analyzing her quickly. Every word she spoke was true-and calculated. She wasn't just begging; she was bargaining. A desperate girl who knew how to weaponize her desperation.
I let out a slow breath, jaw tightening.
She was right. I couldn't afford distractions at Aadi's wedding. I didn't care about Shravni, not even a little-but I cared about control. About silence. About order.
And Maya? She wasn't going to stop.
"Fine," I said through gritted teeth. "I'll handle it."
She opened her mouth, probably to thank me, but I turned my back to her again before she could speak. The message was clear: this conversation was over.
There was no room for gratitude here.
No room for softness.
Only business.
After a moment of tense silence, once Maya finally walked away, I pulled out my phone from my pocket and dialed a number I rarely used, yet always kept on speed dial.
The line rang only once.
"Good morning, sir," came the deep, steady voice of Kabir. There was no warmth in his tone-only unwavering duty. "Any instruction for today?" he asked, as if it were just another mission, another name on the list.
I didn't speak immediately. I stared out over the balcony for a beat, the sound of city life far beneath me, the weight of chaos already beginning to shift onto my shoulders. Finally, I replied, voice firm and composed.
"Yes, Kabir. There's work for you."
I paused. "Aditya's fiancée, Aditi-her friend Shravni's gone missing. Kidnapped."
There was no need for dramatics. Just the facts. "Track her. Find her. Bring her back alive. And I want names-whoever's behind it. Don't kill them... yet. Just report back to me. I'll handle the rest."
"As you command," he said crisply, without hesitation. No questions. No wasted breath.
And that was the thing about Kabir-if I said he could retrieve a person from the jaws of hell in ten minutes, he'd do it in five. Efficient. Ruthless. Deadly. And loyal to the bone.
I ended the call without another word and slipped the phone back into my pocket. A sharp exhale left my chest, a quiet release of tension. With Kabir on the case, the girl was already halfway back to safety.
But now came the real punishment.
The bachelor party.
Aditya's idea of pre-wedding fun-a room full of men drunk on overpriced whiskey, gyrating to cheap beats around some hired dancer. A circus masked as celebration. A complete waste of my time.
And yet, I couldn't say no. Not to Aditya. Not after everything.
After all, he was the only reason I was in India in the first place.
The Mehrotra wedding was a magnet for madness, and this latest chaos-Shravni's disappearance-just added fuel to the fire. Somehow, every storm found its way into Aditya's wedding. And because he was my cousin, it had become my responsibility to keep this chaos from exploding.
With those thoughts spiraling through my mind, I picked up the towel and made my way to the bathroom. The cold water hit my skin like clarity, washing over the storm that churned quietly within me.
There were wars being fought on too many fronts.
And I was the one expected to win them all
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Shravni's POV
"Ab aayega na maza," I muttered to myself, grinning as I sat comfortably in the middle of my acting studio-currently transformed to resemble a remote valley on the outskirts of the city. The hills, the dusty air, the echo of silence... everything was set up perfectly. Almost cinematic.
I had already ordered all the guards and staff to clear out for the day, ensuring the place looked abandoned and vulnerable. After all, what's a kidnapping if it doesn't look real? And this-this was my masterpiece.
Yes, I was faking my own kidnapping.
After all, it was Aditi's wedding, and someone had to stir up the drama. Who better than Shravni to bring a little thrill to the chaos?
I laughed to myself, unable to suppress the excitement bubbling in my chest. Not even Maya and Ishanvi knew about this plan. I wanted to keep it a surprise-something they'd never forget. A secret twist in the plot that only I could pull off.
Around me stood my "kidnappers"-paid actors wielding fake guns, their expressions rehearsed and ready. I sat on a chair in the center, loosely tied with ropes. Not too tight, of course. Just enough to look convincing. I knew Maya well-she'd panic and send someone to rescue me. It had to be believable.
An hour ago, I'd called her with a frantic voice, claiming someone was chasing me while I was on my way to the Mehrotra mansion. Then, just for the added flair, I screamed dramatically and hung up.
Poor Maya was probably tearing her hair out by now.
But I could already picture her relief when I revealed the truth-the way she'd yell at me for scaring her, then laugh and hug me anyway. The memory of her reaction would be worth everything.
"Ma'am, someone's car is approaching," one of the actors informed me suddenly, snapping me out of my daydream.
My brows furrowed. "Who?" I asked quickly.
"It's not the police... just a single black car."
That was odd.
Maya sent a man instead of the cops? Interesting. Unexpected. But I didn't have time to overthink it.
"Fine! Take your positions!" I ordered. "I want this kidnapping to look real, okay? Get ready!"
I fixed my expression, let fake tears well up in my eyes, and prepared myself for the performance of a lifetime. One of the actors even pressed a fake gun to my temple, and I leaned into it like a damsel in distress. It was all going to plan.
Until it wasn't.
The black SUV didn't stop. It drifted onto the dirt road like a scene straight out of an action movie, tires kicking up a thick cloud of dust. Before we could make sense of anything, the air was filled with the unmistakable sound of gunfire.
Real gunfire.
My heart lurched into my throat.
This wasn't a rescue. This was an ambush.
Panic erupted around me as all the actors scattered, dropping their fake guns and fleeing for their lives. Within seconds, I was the only one left-still tied to the chair, now actually helpless.
As the dust began to settle, I saw him.
He emerged from the smoke like a warrior in a battlefield-tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a black fitted t-shirt and combat trousers. A real AK-47 was slung across his shoulder, his arms muscular, veined, and deadly. His jaw was sharp and clean-shaven, his wavy hair tousled just right. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a military magazine-or a Greek myth.
And I... I forgot how to breathe.
My mouth fell open slightly. Not just because of the way he looked, but because of the sheer force of presence he carried. Dangerous. Dominant. Controlled.
Then I heard it.
Click.
My eyes darted to the side.
One of my actors-who hadn't managed to flee in time-was now on his knees, bruised and trembling. The man in black had a gun pressed to his temple.
"Who sent you to kidnap her?" he asked coldly, his voice like steel wrapped in ice.
My actor was paralyzed in fear, glancing desperately at me as if begging me to intervene. And I had to.
I had no choice.
"Hey! Stop!" I shouted, my voice cracking. "Don't shoot him!"
The man turned his head toward me, eyes locking with mine for the first time. There was confusion there-subtle but noticeable. He studied me, perhaps trying to determine whether I was a victim or something else entirely.
"This was a plan," I admitted quickly, guilt tightening my throat. "A fake kidnapping... by me. He's just an actor. It was supposed to be harmless. Please... don't hurt him."
His jaw clenched visibly. He didn't speak. He didn't blink.
He just stared at me for a long, agonizing second.
Then, without a word, he stepped back. The actor scrambled to his feet and ran like his life depended on it-because it probably did.
And I... was left there. Alone. Still tied. Still processing what had just happened.
The man turned to walk away.
"Wait," I called after him, offering an awkward, sheepish smile. "I'm Shravni. And you...?"
He didn't respond. Didn't even flinch.
"Can you... maybe untie me now?" I added, trying to keep my voice calm, steady.
He looked over his shoulder at me-expression blank, but the fury simmering just beneath the surface was palpable.
"I've killed for less," he said, voice low and chilling. "Next time, pray it's someone else who finds you."
And just like that, he turned and walked away.
"Wait-hey! Arrogant man! Come back!" I shouted, half-panicked now. "At least untie me! My actors left me and now you're leaving too? Don't just drive off like-"
But it was too late.
The black SUV vanished in a cloud of dust.
And I... was still tied to a chair in the middle of nowhere.
Great. Just great.
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Utsav pov
"Bhai, I heard Shravni got kidnapped?" Aditya's voice rang out the moment he stepped into my suite, his tone sharp and alert, like a reporter breaking breaking news.
I stood in front of the full-length mirror, dressed in a tailored brown suit, buttoning the cuffs of my shirt with meticulous care. I didn't bother glancing at him immediately. My hands moved slowly through my hair as I combed them back into perfection-my armor of order.
"Yes," I replied curtly, eyes fixed on my reflection. Then, after a pause, I turned to face him fully. He was dressed sharply too, in a deep blue three-piece suit, his tie slightly loosened like he'd already been through a battle. Probably emotional, probably Aditi.
"But I've already sent Kabir to retrieve her. She'll be back in a few minutes. Don't worry."
He exhaled heavily, sinking into the couch behind him, pressing his fingers to his temples like a migraine had just hit. I didn't need to ask-years of reading people taught me far more than words ever could. The discomfort radiating from him wasn't just about Shravni.
"I hate it when any man tries to get close to Aditi," he muttered, not even trying to hide the bitterness. "And the fact that Dhruv is in her friend circle-it makes me want to snap his throat. That bastard."
I turned back to him, studying his posture. Shoulders rigid. Jaw clenched. His hands curled into fists. A classic Aadi reaction when his emotions spiraled.
They'd fought-he and Aditi. That much was obvious.
"You need to trust her," I said sharply, slipping my feet into polished shoes.
"How do you?" he asked with a half-smile, half-scowl. "Never mind. You always know everything. But, bhai... I can't help it. I can't see her with anyone else-not even Dhruv."
I paused. Not because I didn't have an answer, but because the truth had claws.
"Listen, Aadi," I started, my voice firm but less edged, "I'm not the kind of man who believes in love or marriage. You know that. But even I know one thing-we need to treat our partners as equals. Not like..."
I stopped myself. The name hung unspoken in the air. Uncle. His father. The man who controlled everything and everyone around him, including Aadi's mother. Aadi hated him for that, always had. I saw the storm gather in his eyes at the mere shadow of that memory.
So I corrected course.
"Be calm," I said, voice low. "Hurt the enemy where he can't rise again. Sit. Observe. Calculate. And then strike."
He didn't reply, but his jaw tightened even further, knuckles white. The memory of his father always left scars throbbing beneath his skin. I noticed the way his nails dug into his palms.
So I shifted the tone, not because I wanted to, but because I had to. Aadi-he was the only person I truly loved. The only person who could touch whatever heart I had left.
"Now don't ask your old brother to dance tonight," I muttered with a smirk. "You know my back's not built for this nonsense anymore."
He let out a surprised chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're unbelievable."
Before I could respond, footsteps echoed from the hallway. One set. Calm. Measured. Kabir.
I straightened and took my seat behind the glass desk-like a throne in a court I ruled with silent command.
A soft knock. "May I come in?"
"You may," I answered.
The door opened, and Kabir stepped in-tall, clean-cut, composed. A man trained to reveal nothing and observe everything. His face gave little away, but the shift in his posture told me more than words ever could.
"Task completed?" I asked, voice laced with expectation.
He shook his head once, his eyes cast downward, refusing to meet mine. "It wasn't a task," he said evenly, "but a performance. The girl faked her own kidnapping to create chaos at the wedding. Called it 'an adventure.'"
I narrowed my eyes. Of course. What else could I expect from Maya's friend? That entire circle was allergic to normal.
Aditya lurched up from the couch, fists clenched again. "Seriously? Shravni faked her own kidnapping? I swear I will-"
"Relax, Aadi," I cut in before his temper exploded. "I'm sure Kabir taught her a lesson already. Right, Kabir?"
Kabir gave a single, quiet nod. That was enough for me. I didn't need details.
"You may leave. Get some rest-you've come a long way."
The words weren't laced with concern. They were calculated. Professional. I needed Kabir at his sharpest, not dull with fatigue. A weapon is only as good as its readiness.
As the door shut behind him, silence fell.
I leaned back in my chair, steepling my fingers as I stared out the glass windows of my suite, eyes following nothing and everything.
In my world, there is no room for weakness. Not even a sliver. You either win or you die. There is no middle ground. There is no surrender.
I've never surrendered.
People think war happens on battlefields. They think loss is a bullet or a bomb.
They're wrong.
The real wars? They happen in silence. In boardrooms. In mirrored rooms with silk ties and hidden daggers. In relationships wrapped in pretty lies. In hearts that trust when they shouldn't.
And I? I don't trust. I don't believe in love. Love is vulnerability. Marriage is illusion. Trust is a loaded gun in someone else's hand.
I've seen what happens when you let your guard down. I've seen what love does to people. My mother's death was the result of that very weakness-trusting the wrong man, at the wrong time, in the wrong world. And I've built everything I am so that no one can ever use that weakness against me again.
People call me ruthless. Cold. Dangerous.
They're not wrong.
But I call it necessary.
This world is a game of chess. You either move with strategy or get wiped from the board. And I? I don't just play the game. I am the game.
I've learned to strike without warning. To observe without blinking. To destroy without regret.
Because losing... is not an option.
Not in my world.
Not in Utsav Mehrotra's world.
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