Somewhere in India

It was winter. A lonely road, surrounded on both sides by a dense forest, lay quiet under the cold evening sky.

Two kids were running desperately on that road—a boy and a girl. Both were dressed in party clothes, jackets pulled tightly over them. The boy looked around ten years old, the girl no more than seven.

Tears streamed down the girl’s face as she cried loudly, her voice echoing in the silent forest. The boy, too, had tears in his eyes, but he was trying hard to stay strong.

Suddenly, the girl slowed down and tugged on his hand, sobbing, “Bhaiyu… please stop. My leg hurts... I can’t run anymore.”

The boy looked at her, his eyes full of emotion. His voice shook as he said, “No, Princess. We can’t stop. If we stop, they’ll kill us too.”

He held her little hand tighter and kept running.

Behind them, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed loudly.

The boy turned his head and saw them—three or four tall, muscular men, dressed like bodyguards, running towards them.

Panicked, he pulled the girl behind a large tree and crouched down, trying to hide.

One of the men, clearly the leader, barked in a harsh voice, “Boss won’t spare us if they escape!”

The guards spread out, searching the forest.

Seizing the moment, the boy grabbed the girl’s hand again and dashed deeper into the woods.

But one of the guards spotted them. “There! They’re running into the forest!” he shouted.

All the guards chased after them.

The boy ran until he found another tree. He stopped and placed the girl behind it. He bent down to her eye level and whispered urgently, “Princess, hide here. Don’t come out—no matter what happens. If they see you, they’ll kill you. And I… I can’t lose you.”

He turned to leave, but she caught his hand and cried, “No! Don’t go… They’ll kill you too!”

His heart ached. He gently stroked her head and said, “We have no choice. We have to fight back. We can’t die like this—not after what they did to our family. We have to take revenge.”

“Promise me,” he continued, “you won’t come out, no matter what. If I don’t come back… you survive. You get stronger. So strong that no one can ever hurt you again.”

The girl wiped her tears and nodded, holding his hand. “I promise… But you have to promise me too. You’ll come back.”

He gave her a soft smile and pulled her into a hug. “I promise.”

Then he took her jacket, filled it with rocks, and tossed it into the river nearby.

As the guards approached, the boy ran to the riverbank and shouted, “Princess!”

The guards saw the jacket floating and assumed the girl had drowned. Laughing wickedly, they believed their job was done.

The boy tried to run again—but he tripped on a rock and fell into the river himself.

The current was too strong. He was swept away.

The guards looked on and laughed cruelly. “They’re both gone. Time to report back.”

Just then, the leader’s phone rang. The screen flashed Boss. He picked up nervously.

“Is it done?” the boss’s dark, dangerous voice thundered. “Are they with their family now?”

“Yes, Boss. Both fell into the river. No way they survived.”

The Boss laughed coldly and ended the call.

The guards turned and left, joking and laughing.

But behind that tree, the little girl no longer cried.

Her eyes were bloodshot—not from fear, but from rage.

Her brother’s final words echoed in her ears—

“Take revenge. Be strong.”

She stood up slowly and began walking forward… her life changed forever.

---

16 Years Later – London

A luxury villa stood tall in the heart of London, surrounded by layers of security.

Inside, in a black-and-white themed bedroom, a girl was sleeping on a massive bed. Her body was drenched in sweat. She suddenly shot up from a nightmare, screaming, “Bhaiyu!”

Breathing heavily, she looked around. Her hair clung to her face, but a breeze from the open window brushed it away—revealing a stunning face.

Fair skin. Sharp nose. Lips pink like strawberries. Deep, ocean-blue eyes… haunted with pain. And just between her neck and shoulder, a glowing butterfly tattoo shimmered in the morning light.

The door burst open and a beautiful woman rushed in. She hurried to the bed and hugged the girl.

“Avi! Are you okay?”

This was Isha Rathore, a famous fashion designer and founder of IR Fashion.

And the girl in bed?

Avya Kapoor—better known as Avi.

CEO of A.K Industries.

And secretly, the Queen of the Underworld.

“I’m fine, Ishu,” Avi replied quietly, pushing herself up.

Isha smiled, trying to cheer her up. “You know, I’ll never understand how someone can look this hot and gorgeous even while sweating from nightmares. Honestly, if I were a guy, I’d have already proposed to you. Made you my girlfriend. Let the world burn with jealousy!”

She winked and kissed Avi on the cheek.

Avi gave her a flat look. She knew Isha was just trying to lighten the mood.

“Enough with your drama,” she said coolly. “I’m okay now.”

Isha’s smile faded just for a moment, but she quickly shook it off. “Good. Now get ready. We have an important meeting today.”

Avi glanced at the clock. It was 4:00 AM.

Both girls headed to the gym and worked out for two full hours. After a shower, they got dressed.

At 7:00 AM, Avi walked out of her room in a sharp black business suit. No makeup, just a designer watch on her left wrist. She didn’t need anything else—her presence alone turned heads.

Isha, in a deep blue suit, was already waiting downstairs.

They had a quick breakfast together before stepping out.

A convoy of luxury cars waited outside. As they approached, the guards opened the doors of a sleek Rolls Royce. They got in.

In the front seat sat Jack—Avi’s most trusted bodyguard and Head of Security. A man capable of taking down 30 men alone.

The convoy began to move.

The cars pulled up in front of A.K Industries, one of the tallest and most powerful buildings in London’s business district.

Jack stepped out and opened the doors for Avi and Isha.

Both women, wearing black masks, stepped inside.

Employees greeted them with respectful “Good Morning, ma’am.” Isha smiled warmly. Avi simply gave a cold nod—her power was intimidating. Her silence said more than words.

Without wasting time, they stepped into the private CEO elevator, accompanied by Siya, Avi’s loyal personal assistant.

Mumbai, India

A sprawling city of dreams, chaos, and power. Amidst its skyline stood a monumental structure-tall, intimidating, and iconic. The name "Rathore Industries" glistened at the top of the building in bold metallic letters. A name that echoed authority across industries and continents. One of the top five companies in the world, built on dominance, fear, and perfection.

Suddenly, ten black luxury SUVs pulled up at the front entrance in perfect sync. The entire building's staff and security immediately became alert. It wasn't a random visit. It was a sign-he had arrived.

From all the cars, guards stepped out swiftly and spread out like shadows, scanning every corner. But the middle SUV remained untouched.

After a beat, the front passenger door of that central vehicle opened, and a sharply dressed man in his mid-20s stepped out. Sharp jawline, perfect posture, an aura that screamed "don't mess with me." He walked with measured steps toward the back door of the car and opened it.

The moment the back door opened, silence enveloped the entire area.

A man stepped out.

Around 26 or 27 years old.

Fair skin that glowed under the sun.

Hazel eyes-sharp, unreadable, and hypnotic. The kind of eyes that could paralyze someone with a single glance.

His face? Carved with God-like precision-flawless yet emotionless.

And that body? A sculpted masterpiece-muscles wrapped in an expensive three-piece suit.

Abhay Rathore.

The CEO of A.R. Industries. A self-made billionaire. Ruthless, brilliant, cold. He had recently merged his empire with his family's company-Rathore Industries.

He didn't believe in luck.

Only in control.

And right now, he owned everything.

Girls dreamed of him without even knowing what he looked like. Those who caught a glimpse? Hooked. Obsessed.

But he?

He never looked at a woman.

And if someone tried to seduce him?

He destroyed them. Without mercy.

He was known as the King of the Underworld-but he wasn't a criminal.

He had rules.

No drugs.

No human trafficking.

No organ trade.

Anyone caught doing such things met a brutal end-usually by his hands.

He hated attention. Hated the media. If someone dared to photograph him without permission, the media house never recovered. Ever.

Abhay walked into the building. No one dared stop him. The man who had opened the door-Neel, his assistant-followed him silently.

As they entered the main floor, time seemed to freeze. Employees paused. The women looked up briefly, only to immediately lower their eyes, cheeks flushing, pretending to work while secretly stealing glances.

Abhay didn't even notice them. His energy was cold, untouchable. He walked past like he didn't see a single soul.

Abhay and Neel walked into their separate cabins.

---

Thirty minutes later - Inside Abhay's Cabin

The room was minimalist but luxurious. A long glass window showed the skyline of Mumbai. Inside, Abhay sat behind a sleek black desk, fully focused on his laptop. No emotion on his face. Just pure concentration.

A knock echoed.

Without looking up, he said,

"Come in."

Neel entered, holding a tablet in his hand.

"Boss, Miss Tanya has arrived. She's waiting in the conference room."

Abhay finally looked up, raising a single eyebrow.

Neel understood instantly.

"Miss Tanya is Mr. Sharma's daughter. Since he's unwell, he's sent her to handle the meeting."

Abhay didn't respond. He simply closed his laptop, stood up, and walked out.

Neel quietly followed.

---

Conference Room

Tanya Sharma sat comfortably in a branded, body-hugging one-piece dress. Her face was covered in thick makeup, her lips unnaturally red. She kept glancing at the door nervously but with a plan in mind.

She wasn't here just for business.

She had come to capture Abhay Rathore.

In her head, she believed she was beautiful, irresistible. And her father had the same idea-secure a business alliance through marriage or seduction.

The door opened.

Abhay stepped in.

Tanya forgot how to breathe.

His presence was overpowering. He sat at the head of the table like a king taking his throne. Neel stood quietly beside him.

Abhay's voice was low but powerful.

"Start the meeting."

Tanya was frozen, too caught up staring at his face, his eyes, his aura. Her assistant stepped in to start the presentation.

But Tanya's gaze never left Abhay. She watched him hungrily, hoping to catch his attention.

Abhay noticed.

So did Neel.

But Abhay showed nothing. His face remained calm.

Only if someone looked deep into his eyes... they'd notice the storm building.

He hated this kind of attention.

He hated being looked at like an object.

Neel swallowed nervously.

"She really has a death wish," he thought. "I just hope Boss doesn't kill her. Or worse... get angry at me."

The presentation ended.

Tanya smiled, leaning slightly forward, voice sultry.

"So, Mr. Abhay... how did you like the presentation? If you want, I can-"

Abhay's voice cut through the air like a blade.

"I don't allow strangers to use my name."

Tanya's smile faded.

"You can call me Mr. Rathore. That's the only name you've earned the right to use. Understand?"

His eyes held hers, sharp and furious.

She froze, barely able to nod.

"Y-Yes, M-Mr. Rathore..."

He didn't bother responding.

"My assistant will inform you about the deal."

And with that, the meeting was over.

Tanya stood up, humiliated. She walked out with her assistant, trying to keep her pride intact.

Once outside, she glanced back and muttered,

"One day, I'll make him mine. I'll be the queen of Rathore Industries."

Her assistant rolled her eyes internally.

"This girl has lost it. That man is death in a suit. You won't seduce him-you'll need an exorcist."

---

Back in the cabin

Abhay returned to his chair. His expression unchanged.

Neel stood before him.

Abhay looked up with his cold gaze.

"Any update on A.K. Industries?"

---

Meanwhile - London

In a luxurious office, Avya, dressed in a power suit, sat on a queen-sized leather chair, legs crossed, fingers lightly tapping the table. Calm on the outside. Deadly underneath.

Esha, her bold and outspoken best friend, sat across from her.

Siya, her assistant, stood beside her with a tablet.

Avya looked at Siya.

"Is everything ready for India?"

"Yes, boss. The Mumbai headquarters is fully ready. All departments have been set up."

Avya nodded.

"And my stay?"

Before Siya could respond, Esha jumped in.

"You're staying with me. I don't want to hear no. You're not going alone."

Avya glanced at her but didn't respond.

Esha knew her too well.

She had watched Avya build her empire from the ashes. She had seen her broken, cold, isolated.

Now she just wanted her to be happy, even if only a little.

And maybe staying with family could heal her, even just a bit.