Mumbai, Midnight
Outside the city, in the midst of eerie silence, stood an abandoned mansion, its presence haunting the surroundings. The atmosphere was thick with an unsettling stillness, as if the very air feared to stir. The quiet of the night was broken only by the screech of tires as a black luxury car came to an abrupt halt before the house.
The car door opened, and a man stepped out, exuding an aura of dominance that made the very air around him heavy. His presence was enough to send a chill down anyone’s spine. He was followed by two men—one clad in black, unmistakably a bodyguard, and the other dressed in a sharp blue suit, his trusted personal assistant.
This man was none other than Mahir Raheja—a name that commanded fear and respect. A reputed business tycoon in the daylight, but beneath the polished exterior, he was the undisputed king of the underworld mafia, the ruler of Balcon.
With long, purposeful strides, Mahir walked towards the seemingly abandoned house. But beyond its decrepit walls lay a dark secret. Hidden within was a concealed passage, leading deep underground to a secretive basement. This was no ordinary basement—it was a chamber of terror. Five separate rooms lay within, one serving as a prison, while the others were dedicated to brutal torture methods.
Mahir entered the chamber, his bodyguard stopping at the door while his PA, Praveen Khanna, followed closely. In the dimly lit space, a man sat slumped in the corner, his body bound tightly with metal chains. Blood trickled from his bruised skin, a sight that did little to stir Mahir’s emotions. Four bodyguards stood motionless at the edges of the room, awaiting their master’s command.
With a mere flick of his fingers, Mahir signaled one of his men. Without hesitation, the guard struck the captive with a thorned belt. Agonizing screams ripped through the air, echoing off the stone walls. The man writhed in pain, his pleas for mercy swallowed by his own cries.
Minutes passed before Mahir lifted a hand, bringing the torment to a halt. He took slow, deliberate steps forward, his cold gaze locking onto the bloodied figure before him.
"This is just the beginning, you worthless traitor," Mahir’s voice was sharp, laced with quiet menace. "Before deceiving me, you should have done your research—found out who exactly you were playing with."
The man sobbed, his broken form trembling. "P-please… sir, I swear I won’t do it again! Have mercy!" he begged, his voice barely above a whisper.
Mahir smirked, his fingers leisurely sliding over the gun holstered at his side. "Mercy?" he mocked. "For you? There won’t be a next time."
In one swift motion, he raised the gun and pulled the trigger. A deafening gunshot rang through the basement, silencing the man’s existence forever.
Without a second glance, Mahir turned on his heel and strode towards the exit, Praveen following closely behind. The car ride back to his mansion was silent. Once they arrived, Mahir wasted no time and went straight to his room.
The Raheja Mansion was nothing short of a palace—luxurious, grand, and intricately designed. The walls gleamed with fine art, the floors adorned with lavish tiles. It was a home fit for a king, yet to Mahir, it was merely a place to rest.
Inside his personal chambers, the dark-colored walls reflected his personality—intense, dominant, and mysterious. As he stepped in, the lights flickered on at his command. Without hesitation, he moved to his expansive bathroom, designed with marble floors, a shower, and an elegant bathtub. The space was as large as an ordinary room, but Mahir barely noticed the grandeur.
Letting the scalding water wash over him, he closed his eyes, letting the weight of the day settle. Once done, he changed into a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, then poured himself a glass of whiskey from his private bar.
He walked to the balcony, staring at the vast night sky, lost in thought.
Mahir’s POV:
"I can tolerate many things—but betrayal is not one of them."
"People often see the businessman in me, the face I show to the world. But there are two sides to every coin, and both sides belong to me. There is no escaping the beast that awakens within when I step into the underworld."
"Today was exhausting. The office was in chaos after confidential details about an upcoming deal were leaked. I fired 13 employees without a second thought. But that wasn’t enough. The one who truly betrayed me—he needed to pay the price. When Khanna informed me that our men had caught him, I didn't hesitate. I went straight to the basement and ended his life myself. Regret? No. He made his choice. I only delivered the consequence."
Finishing his drink, Mahir set the glass down and climbed into bed. Sleep came swiftly, but it brought no peace.
---
The Next Morning
At dawn, Mahir woke at 5 AM and completed his usual workout routine before heading to his personal gym. By 9:30, he was showered and ready for the day. As he descended the grand staircase, he found his entire family waiting for breakfast.
He walked over to his dadu, bowing slightly to take his blessings. His mother, father, uncle (chacha), and aunt (chachi) greeted him warmly.
Soon, his younger siblings and cousins joined the table. Ritika, his mischievous younger sister, threw her arms around him in a side hug. "Good morning, bhai!" she chirped.
Mahir gave a simple nod in return. His two younger brothers took their seats beside him, offering greetings he acknowledged with a brief nod. His sister-in-law served breakfast while conversation flowed easily around the table. The topic, as usual, revolved around Ritika and Rudra’s college escapades.
After finishing his meal, Mahir stood up. "I’m leaving for Jaipur. Business trip. I’ll be gone for two to three days."
His family merely nodded—they were used to his sudden departures.
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