Author’s POV

A girl was running along a deserted road, her breath uneven and panic rising in her chest. Behind her, a group of men chased her relentlessly, their footsteps echoing through the empty night.

Spotting a tree near the roadside, she quickly hid behind it, pressing her back against the rough bark and trying to steady her breathing. She covered her mouth with her trembling hand, trying to silence her breathing. “Where did she go?” one man said. “Search ahead—she can’t be far.” The men ran past her, their voices fading as they moved ahead.

She exhaled deeply, her body trembling, thinking she was safe—for a moment.

But as she stepped out from behind the tree, her foot twisted painfully. She lost her balance and fell to the ground with a soft “ahh…” escaping her lips.

The sound was enough.

One of the men shouted, “She’s there!”

Her eyes widened in horror. Her heart dropped.

She couldn’t see them yet, but their footsteps were growing louder, closing in on her through the silence of the deserted road.

Gritting her teeth, she tried to stand. A sharp pain shot through her ankle, making her hiss in agony—but fear was stronger than pain. Somehow, she pushed herself up and began running again, limping, desperate, her body screaming with every step.

Then—

The distant roar of a bike reached her ears.

Hope flickered.

She turned back, and suddenly a bright headlight flashed across her face, blinding her for a second. The bike was approaching fast—too fast.

Behind her, the men’s voices grew louder again.

Without thinking, she ran into the middle of the road, waving her hands frantically.

The bike screeched to a halt, the sharp sound cutting through the silence.

Breathless and terrified, she rushed forward and climbed onto the bike.

“Please… help me. Just go!” she pleaded.

At that moment, the men appeared in the distance.

“Hey! She’s escaping—catch her!” one of them shouted.

As the rider accelerated, she tapped his shoulder in urgency. The sudden jerk of the bike threw her forward, her body colliding with his back. Instinctively, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

The bike sped forward at full speed.

And she held on—desperately, tightly—like her life depended on it.

As they sped forward, she slowly realized the voices had faded—there were no goons behind them anymore.

A wave of relief washed over her.

She gently rested her forehead against the biker’s back, closing her eyes as she took the deep breaths she had been craving for so long.

The bike finally slowed down and stopped at the side of the road.

They had reached a different area now—no longer deserted. Streetlights glowed softly, and a few shops were still open, their dim lights bringing a sense of normalcy.

The biker slightly turned his head.

“Get down.”

She didn’t respond.

She was still in the same position—her arms tightly wrapped around his waist, her forehead resting against his back, lost in the comfort of safety.

He spoke again, a little louder this time—

“Hey… hop down, squirrel.”

His tone wasn’t harsh, just firm enough to pull her out of her thoughts.

She blinked and looked up at him, suddenly becoming aware of her position.

Her eyes widened slightly.

“Oh… I— I’m sorry…” she stammered, quickly pulling her hands back.

She looked around, realizing they were now in a safe place.

Without meeting his eyes, she carefully got off the bike—

But the moment her injured foot touched the ground—

“Ahh—!”

A sharp pain shot through her ankle, and she collapsed, falling onto the road with a painful hiss.

Before she could react, the biker immediately got down.

“Hey! What happened?” he asked, kneeling beside her.

“Are you okay?”

She clenched her teeth, trying to control the pain.

“No… nothing happened,” she said, squinting her eyes and trying not to make any sound.

He helped her get up and made her sit on a bench by the side of the road.

Only then did she properly notice him—he was wearing a black T-shirt and black jeans, with a smooth, soft jacket over it. He had a helmet on, but the visor was lifted, revealing only his eyes—deep black and intense.

When he noticed her foot, he saw swelling along with bluish and reddish marks. Without wasting a moment, he stood up and ran toward a pharmacy across the road.

She sat there, gently massaging her foot.

After some time, he returned with a packet in his hand. He bent down, carefully lifted her foot, and placed it on his knee. As soon as her foot rested, she hissed in pain.

He glanced at her briefly, then took out a cream from the packet and began applying it gently to the swollen area.

She winced and said, “You don’t have to do this. You can go… I’ll apply it myself,” as she moved her hand forward to take the cream.

He looked at her and said, “It’s okay. I’ll drop you home.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s not needed. I will g—”

He interrupted, “I said I’ll drop you home… or to the police station.”

She looked at him, confused.

He explained, “If something happens to you, the police will come to me. I was the last one with you. I can’t take that risk.”

His eyes widened slightly as he spoke.

“What do you mean by something happens to me, huh?” she said angrily.

“I mean… those goons were chasing you,” he clarified.

She paused, then nodded.

He took out a water bottle from the packet and handed it to her. She drank the water slowly.

After a moment, he looked at her and asked, “Who were they? And why were they following you?”

She looked into his dark eyes and said, “That’s a long story… but thank you for saving my life. I owe you this favor. I’ll try to repay you in the future.”

He chuckled softly. “Of course.”

“You think I’m joking? I will really repay your favor,” she said seriously, her expression firm.

He looked at her, then nodded slightly.

After applying the cream, he said, “We should go.”

She nodded and tried to stand—but as soon as she put weight on her foot, she hissed in pain and sat back down.

He looked at her for a moment, then bent down and suddenly lifted her in a bridal carry.

“What are you doing? Leave me!” she protested.

Ignoring her resistance, he carried her to the bike and helped her sit.

Then he got on, started the bike, and prepared to leave.

“Please… drive normally,” she said.

He nodded and slowly moved the bike forward.

As per her directions, they moved ahead, and he dropped her in front of her apartment.

She carefully got down from the bike and said,

“Thanks for the help… ahh… ahh… what’s your name?” she asked.

He looked at her and replied,

“What’s there in a name? You can call me whatever you want.”

Then he added,

“By the way, can I help you reach your apartment?”

She shook her head slightly.

“No… I can go myself. There’s a lift, so it’s not a problem.”

He nodded and started the bike, but before he could leave, she spoke again,

“You still didn’t tell me your name.”

He glanced at her and said,

“I told you—you can call me whatever you want.”

She frowned slightly.

“What do you mean I can call you whatever I want? And why would I? Your parents must have given you a name… tell me.”

He looked at her—her curious expression, the slight pout on her lips, and the faint lines forming on her forehead made her look unexpectedly adorable.

For a moment, he just observed her.

Then suddenly, he held her hand and pulled her slightly toward himself. Leaning closer, he whispered near her ear,

“If you want to know… find it.”

He let go of her hand, started the bike, and rode away.

She stood there, frozen for a moment, watching his back as it slowly disappeared into the distance.

In Outskirt of Germany

A car came to a halt in front of a deserted place where a half-broken bungalow stood, abandoned and forgotten by time. The silence around it felt heavy, almost unnatural.

He stepped out of the car and walked toward the bungalow. Near a cracked wall, he pressed a small, concealed button. A faint mechanical sound followed, and a secret door slowly slid open.

Without hesitation, he stepped inside. The door closed behind him, and he descended into the basement.

The basement was horrifying. Darkness clung to every corner. Thick spider webs hung from the ceiling, and lizards crawled along the damp walls. The floor was littered with the sounds of scurrying mice. The air was stale and suffocating.

At the far end of the basement stood a prison cell.

Inside the cell, a man was chained tightly with heavy steel chains, his body bruised and exhausted.

The man walked into the prison area. One of his guards dragged a chair forward and placed it directly in front of the caged man. He sat down slowly, calmly, like a king taking his throne.

With a slight gesture of his hand, he ordered, “Open the chains.”

The guards unlocked the steel restraints, though the man remained trapped, broken, and helpless.

Leaning back in the chair, he spoke coldly, his voice sharp and unforgiving.

“What did you think?” he said.

“That you would betray me… and I would let you live?”

The silence that followed was more terrifying than his words.

The man sitting on the chair picked one up, turned it slowly between his fingers, and asked coldly, “So… what was he saying, Shesh?”

The man stepped forward. “Sir,” he said respectfully, “he didn’t open his mouth at all. We waited. We tortured him. But he still refused to say anything.”

The man on the chair lifted his gaze and looked directly at the caged man. His eyes were calm, but there was something lethal behind them.

He leaned forward slightly and spoke in a low, dangerous voice.

“If you open your mouth,” he said, “your family will remain safe.”

The prisoner’s eyes widened.

“But if you don’t,” the man continued, his tone unwavering, “then be ready to face the consequences of your silence.”

He stood up slowly and walked closer to the bars.

“Just open your mouth and tell me everything you know,” he said. “It will be better for you.”

Then his voice dropped even lower, almost a whisper.

“Because if I am forced to make you speak,” he warned, “it will be far more dangerous for your life.”

The silence in the basement thickened, heavy with fear and unspoken pain.

The man seated on the chair watched him silently for a few minutes. His expression remained calm, almost bored. When it became clear that the prisoner still had no intention of opening his mouth, his patience finally ran out.

He turned slightly and spoke coldly, “Shesh.”

“Yes, sir,” Shesh replied immediately.

The man gave his next order without hesitation. “In front of him… hold his family at gunpoint. If he still refuses to speak, show him his family.”

The prisoner froze. His breath hitched, and terror flooded his eyes.

The man stood up, as if he had already lost interest, and turned to leave.

That was when the prisoner broke.

“Please… please!” he cried out in fear, his voice shaking violently. “Don’t kill my family. Please, don’t hurt them.”

He struggled against his restraints, tears streaming down his face. “I’ll tell you everything. I swear, I’ll tell you everything I know. Just… please don’t cause them any harm.”

His voice cracked as guilt and panic consumed him.

“I don’t know who that man was,” he continued desperately. “He just gave me orders to kill that lady. I never saw his face. He promised me money, that’s why I agreed to his condition.”

He lowered his head, completely broken.

“But please,” he begged again, his voice barely audible, “don’t kill my family.”

The basement echoed with his sobs, while the man who stood before him listened in silence, his expression unreadable.

A phone suddenly rang in the basement, its sound echoing sharply against the cold stone walls.

Shesh stepped forward and handed the phone to the man seated on the chair.

“Sir,” he said quietly, “mam is calling.”

The man sitting on the chair glanced at the phone but did not answer immediately. Instead, he slowly lifted his eyes toward the caged man and spoke calmly, his voice carrying quiet authority.

“If he doesn’t know who that man was,” he said, gesturing toward the prisoner with his eyes, “then what use is he to me? Send him where he belongs.”

The caged man heard this and misunderstood its meaning. His eyes sparkled with relief and hidden excitement.

I’m going back to my family, he thought. I’m going to live.

Hope bloomed inside him for the first time since he was chained.

The man on the chair then stood up, took the phone from Shesh, and answered the call. He walked out of the cell to speak with his mother, his footsteps fading into the distance.

The moment he left, Shesh slowly raised his gun and aimed it at the caged man.

The prisoner noticed the movement. His heart dropped.

“Y-you said… you said you’d send me back,” he stammered, his voice trembling in fear. “Why are you killing me?”

Shesh let out a soft chuckle, a cruel smirk spreading across his face.

“He did say to send you where you belong,” Shesh replied coldly. “And since you don’t know anything… your place is in hell.”

He stepped closer, eyes dark and merciless.

“He isn’t the one who will punish you for your sins,” Shesh continued. “I am.”

He loaded the gun.

A single gunshot echoed through the entire basement.

The prisoner’s body went limp, collapsing lifelessly in the cage.

Shesh lowered the gun and turned to the guards standing nearby. “Clear the body,” he ordered calmly.

Without another glance, he walked out of the cell, leaving behind only silence and the lingering smell of gunpowder.

Shesh stepped out of the cell and walked toward the man, who was still on the phone. He stopped at a respectful distance and waited silently until the call ended.

The man finally hung up and turned around. His eyes landed on Shesh.

Shesh met his gaze with a blank, unreadable expression and said calmly, “Sir… the work is done.”

The man looked at him for a brief moment. There was no reaction. No question. No emotion. Just quiet acknowledgment.

Without a word, he turned and walked toward the car.

Moments later, he settled into the back seat, while Shesh took his place in the front passenger seat. The engine started, and the car began moving, driving away from the deserted place toward the city.

The road stretched endlessly ahead, and silence filled the car, thick and heavy, as if even the air was afraid to speak.

In a world that worships power and fears shadows, one man walks effortlessly between both… Kartavya Raizadaa.

To the world, he is the untouchable CEO of Netaxis—a name forged in brilliance, discipline, and ruthless ambition. A man who speaks less, observes more, and always stays ten steps ahead.

But the world only sees what he allows.

Because Kartavya Raizadaa isn’t just powerful—

he is a cunning fox in a jungle of wolves.

Silent. Patient. Calculating.

He doesn’t hunt with noise.

He waits. Watches. Studies.

And when he strikes… it’s already too late.

In the underworld, he is the right hand of the Indian Mafia—not because of strength alone, but because of his mind. A strategist who turns enemies into pawns and allies into shields. A man who wins wars without ever stepping onto the battlefield.

People call him dangerous. But they’re wrong. Danger is loud. Kartavya is inevitable.

His enemies know one thing—

you won’t see him coming…

but you will feel the fall.

No attachments. No weaknesses. Not even family.

That’s what makes him untouchable.

That’s what makes him feared.

Yet even the most cunning fox has something it protects in silence…

And when the world finds out what that is—

even Kartavya Raizadaa might not be able to outrun what follows.