Advik :-
The drive back to the farmhouse was silent except for the faint hum of the engine and the echo of her voice still playing in my head.
That girl. That storm wrapped in arrogance.
Though I didn't know her name yet, her initials were carved into the metal I'd tucked into my glove compartment. R.R.
I should've thrown that gun away. Should've forgotten the entire morning. But something about her-the fire in her eyes, the way she'd dared to point that weapon at me-stayed. Like a bruise that refused to fade.
By the time I reached the farmhouse on the edge of Mumbai, the hangover had started to crawl back, dull and bitter. The place was quiet, too quiet for a Raichand property. The tall black gates creaked open as I drove in, the guards bowing slightly, their faces a blend of fear and respect.
The Raichand farmhouse wasn't just a house - it was a fortress disguised as luxury. A sprawling piece of land hidden behind high walls and denser secrets.
As I stepped out of the Ferrari, my phone buzzed. A missed call from Kabir chachu. I know he is my tau ji but I love it to call him chachu as he is the only one who understands me the most in my family.
I sighed. Trouble always came dressed in his voice.
Inside, I found him near the veranda, speaking into the phone with the calm confidence only a seasoned manipulator could possess. His tone was smooth, polite - the kind that carried both charm and threat in the same breath.
"Ji, ji... of course, we'll be there by afternoon. Tea and snacks, yes. 4 p.m. works perfectly," he said, smiling faintly as he ended the call.
He turned then, spotting me. The sharp glint in his eyes softened.
"Advik," he said warmly.
I bent down instinctively, touching his feet - an old habit I'd never dropped, even if the world saw me as something ruthless.
"Bless you, beta," he said, placing a hand on my head.
But I could see something in his expression - a trace of satisfaction, maybe even mischief. I frowned. "Who was that on the call, chachu? Weren't we supposed to meet the dealers today?"
Chachu smiled - a knowing, secretive kind of smile. "Dealers? Oh, that was a little change of plan. There's no meeting today."
I blinked. "What?"
He shrugged lightly, walking toward the table and pouring himself a drink. "I might have... tweaked our schedule a bit."
I folded my arms. "Chachu, I've been up since dawn because you said it was urgent. You told me to come home fast for a deal."
Kabir chuckled, swirling the liquid in his glass. "And you did. That's good discipline. You'll need that for where we're going next."
"Where?" I asked warily.
He looked at me, the corners of his mouth lifting. "Rathore Mansion."
For a heartbeat, I thought I'd misheard. Then it sank in, and my voice turned cold. "Rathore Mansion? You're joking."
"I never joke about business," he said simply.
I took a step closer, my tone sharper now. "They're our rivals. You yourself said never to trust a Rathore. So why are we suddenly having tea and snacks with them?"
Kabir leaned back in his chair, watching me with the calm of a man who'd already decided how the game would end. "Because, Advik... I'm tired of old wars. Your father was too proud to end them, but pride doesn't build empires - alliances do."
"Alliances?" I repeated, disbelief cutting through the word.
"Yes." His gaze sharpened. "We've been shedding blood for years - theirs and ours. It's time to turn that blood into something stronger."
I clenched my jaw. "What stronger ? What kind of power are we talking about?"
He smiled again - the kind that hid more than it revealed. "You'll know soon enough, beta. For now, go take a shower and get ready. We' ll leave in an hour."
I hated half-truths, and Kabir Raichand, my uncle was made of them. But there was no point arguing - he was family, and in our world, family wasn't questioned. It was obeyed.
I turned and walked toward my room, shutting the door behind me with a quiet click.
The shower hissed to life, steam filling the space as I stepped under the water. The heat bit into my skin, but it felt grounding. Cleansing. I closed my eyes, leaning against the tiles, the sound of water mixing with thoughts I didn't want to think.
Her face flickered behind my eyelids - the wild defiance, the fury, the arrogance. Who the fuck are you, R.R.?
When I came out, I dressed like the man I was expected to be - all precision and power.
A crisp black U.S. Polo shirt, black trousers that fit sharp at the waist, a matching blazer, and my favorite watch - a limited-edition Omega, a symbol of control and quiet dominance.
But even as I adjusted the cuffs, I slid a gun into the inside pocket of my blazer. Not because I was paranoid - because I was prepared.
If we were going to the Rathores, I wasn't walking in unarmed.
Minutes later, I stepped out to find Kabir already waiting by the car, dressed in his signature ivory kurta, calm and calculating as ever.
He looked me over and smiled. "You clean up well."
I slipped into the seat beside him. "And you still haven't told me why we're visiting our enemies."
He patted my shoulder, eyes twinkling. "Patience, beta. Some truths are better revealed in person."
The car rolled out of the gates, the city blurring past - all noise and neon and unspoken threats.
As the Raichand convoy sped toward the heart of Mumbai, I couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't just another business call.
This was the beginning of something else. Something that would change everything for both families.
The gates of Rathore Mansion loomed like the entrance to another world - tall, wrought-iron, and lined with guards who looked more like soldiers than servants.
I'd seen palaces before, but this one didn't just scream wealth - it whispered power. The kind that didn't need to be shown, only felt.
Our car rolled past the marble driveway and stopped before the grand entrance. My uncle stepped out first, his expression as serene as if he were arriving at a temple, not an enemy's den.
I followed, straightening my blazer, every instinct on high alert. My fingers brushed against the gun inside my pocket - a silent reminder that in our world, handshakes often hid daggers.
The heavy doors opened, and we were led inside. The air smelled of sandalwood and secrets.
And then, there he was.
Rajveer Rathore.
I'd seen his photos, heard the legends but seeing him in person was something else entirely. Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a black kurta and pyjama, eyes as sharp as the blade of a knife. A man born to command.
Beside him stood Devika Rathore, elegant and poised, her presence soft yet formidable. The kind of woman who could silence a room with just one glance.
And a few steps behind them, leaning casually against a pillar, was maybe there son. His smirk was too relaxed for my liking.
"Ah, Kabir!" Rajveer's deep voice broke the silence as he walked forward, hand outstretched. "It's been too long."
Kabir smiled and clasped his hand. "Indeed, Rajveer. Too long for two families who once ruled together."
The air between them crackled with old memories and unspoken history. I stood slightly behind my uncle, observing, silent.
Rajveer's eyes slid toward me then - sharp, assessing. "And this must be your nephew. Advik Raichand, right?"
His voice carried a weight that made my jaw tighten. "Yes, sir," I said smoothly, offering a polite nod.
Chachu gave me a small signal - a slight tilt of his head.
I turned, confused, until I realized what he meant.
He wanted me to touch their feet.
For a moment, I froze. My mind screamed against it - They're the rivals, the ones who took everything from us years ago.
But Kabir's eyes held mine, warning and calm.
With a restrained breath, I bent down, touching Rajveer and Devika's feet, my movements mechanical, my pride screaming.
Rajveer smiled faintly. "Sanskari ladka hai," he said, his tone almost approving. "Good upbringing."
Devika's expression softened. "It's good to see young blood still respects tradition."
I straightened, my face expressionless, but my stomach twisted with unease. I wasn't sure what game Kabir was playing but I didn't like being the pawn.
We followed the Rathores into a vast sitting hall, the kind that could host a small army. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, glinting off chandeliers and gold-framed portraits - generations of power staring down at us.
Kabir and Rajveer took their seats across from each other, their words polite but sharp-edged. I sat quietly opposite to them, listening, trying to decode the real meaning behind every phrase.
They spoke in calm, measured tones -about peace, about business, about turning rivalry into something "mutually beneficial."
But every instinct in me screamed that this was no ordinary visit.
You don't share tea with the family that's drawn your blood.
The air shifted - a soft sound of hurried footsteps echoed from the corridor beyond the main door.
I turned, half-listening and then froze.
The front doors burst open.
And there she was.
She wasn't composed or poised this time. Her hair was slightly tousled, her breath uneven, her eyes wild with panic.
Her.
The same girl from the road. The one who'd pointed a gun at me like she was born to do it.
"Papa!" she blurted out the moment she entered, rushing across the hall - completely unaware that half of Mumbai's underworld royalty was sitting there, watching her unravel.
Rajveer stood immediately, concern flickering across his otherwise stoic face.
"Reyna? Beta, what happened?"
But she didn't stop.
Didn't even open her eyes.
Words tumbled out of her mouth in one long, terrified breath.
"Papa, it wasn't my fault! I swear! He—he crashed into my car! And then- he took my gun! Papa, it was his mistake, not mine!"
For a moment, there was silence.
The kind that stretches just before a storm breaks.
Maya, who'd just entered behind her, looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her whole. Her hands were fidgeting with her phone, her eyes darting between Reyna, Rajveer, and... me.
Devika pressed her fingers to her temple, sighing softly - the kind of sigh mothers reserve for daughters who create chaos out of calm.
"Reyna, slow down, beta. What are you saying?"
Rajveer's brows drew together. His voice was low, dangerous. "Gun? Crash? Who took your gun?"
Reyna finally opened her eyes and froze.
Her gaze landed on me.
Recognition hit her like lightning.
Her lips parted slightly, her shoulders stiffening.
I watched the color drain from her face as realization spread through her expression.
And then, slowly, I let a smile curve my lips.
Cold. Sharp. Deliberate.
Oh, so that's it.
R.R. - Reyna Rathore.
The name that was carved on the gun now resting in my car.
The girl who'd called me a jerk.
The one who'd dared to point a weapon at me and still walk away breathing.
Well, fate clearly had a sense of humor.
"Reyna," Rajveer said again, his tone tighter now. "Who is he?"
She blinked, looking between her father and me - panic warring with pride.
Her voice faltered. "He's... he's the guy from this morning, Papa."
The room went still again.
Kabir's lips twitched slightly, amused.
Rajveer's eyes flicked toward me, his expression unreadable.
And I?
I couldn't help it - a small, satisfied smirk tugged at my mouth as I leaned back slightly, watching her burn in her own words.
"Excuse me, miss" I murmured under my breath, just loud enough for her to catch,
"I don't even know you." I lied.
Her eyes snapped toward me - furious, flustered, embarrassed and for a brief second, I thought she might actually throw something.
And I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy every bit of it.
Reyna :-
For a moment, my heart just... stopped.
There he was.
Sitting on the opposite sofa, calm and collected, like nothing had happened.
The same man who had slammed into my car, taken my gun, and walked away smirking like the world belonged to him.
His blue eyes met mine with quiet amusement, that faint, knowing smirk tugging at his lips. Like he knew every thought running through my head.
And maybe he did.
Because right now, I was thinking of about fifty ways to strangle him - starting with that smug expression.
"Reyna," Papa's voice broke through the static of my thoughts.
"What is this drama? Why you are blaming him? You don't even know him, Gopal already told me what happened."
I blinked, confused. "Gopal?"
Papa nodded, leaning back in his chair. "Yes. He said you scratched your car in the parking lot at college. Nothing serious. He's already sent it for repairs."
My mouth fell open slightly. "What-"
He continued smoothly, "And your gun, he said there was some technical issue. So he sent it for maintenance."
I just... stared at him.
Then it clicked.
Gopal.
The man had lied for me. Covered up the crash. Covered up the missing gun.
He must've seen the damaged car before I even reached home and realized what would happen if Papa found out.
So he'd cleaned the mess - like he always did.
For a brief, fleeting moment, I wanted to hug the man.
But before relief could even sink in, my eyes drifted back to him.
He was watching me.
Not politely. Not casually.
Watching me like he was dissecting every flicker of panic on my face and enjoying every second of it.
That smirk deepened - slow, deliberate, dangerous.
It wasn't a smile.
It was a silent I know your secret.
My stomach twisted with irritation.
I wanted to claw that smugness off his face.
I could almost hear his voice from the road echoing in my head -
"A beauty like this isn't made for a bitch like you."
Papa's voice sliced through the tension and thoughts in my mind, warm and diplomatic.
"Reyna, beta, meet our old friends - Mr. Kabir Raichand and his nephew, Advik Raichand."
Oh, so that's his name,
Advik Raichand.
The devil actually had a name and it sounded just as arrogant as his face looked.
My world tilted. Raichand.
Of course. The rival family. The ones Papa never trusted.
I managed to force a polite smile and turned toward Kabir Raichand, folding my hands automatically.
"Namaste, Uncle," I said softly.
He smiled kindly. "Namaste, beta. She is a beautiful girl Rajveer, just like Devika."
Devika Maa beamed, pride softening her features. "Thank you, Kabir ji.
But I could barely hear them.
Because beside him sat him- Advik Raichand - silent, unreadable, his blue eyes fixed on me like I was some puzzle he'd already solved.
There was no warmth in his gaze. Only that same mocking amusement from the road, sharper now, cutting deeper.
Before I could open my mouth - probably to say something I'd regret - Maya's quick voice filled the room.
"Uncle, Reyna's not feeling too well. She's been a little off since morning. Maybe she just needs some rest."
Papa's eyes softened. "Hmm. Theek hai, beta. Take her upstairs. We'll talk later."
Relief flooded through me as Maya grabbed my wrist, pulling me away before I could combust in front of everyone.
As I turned toward the staircase, I felt it - that weight of his gaze following me.
I risked one last glance.
He was leaning back casually, smirk still in place, eyes glinting like he enjoyed watching me squirm.
I clenched my jaw, turned, and marched upstairs, my heels clicking like gunshots.
The moment we were in my room, I collapsed onto the bed with a groan.
"Maya, I hate him."
She laughed softly. "I know."
"I really hate him."
"Yeah, but you should've seen your face down there," she teased. "I thought you were going to faint."
I buried my face in a pillow. "He's a Raichand. He's literally the enemy."
Maya's smile faded a little. "Then why did it look like the enemy just made you blush?"
I glared at her from under the pillow. "Maya Mehta, shut up."
She laughed, catching it. "I'm just saying, Rey. Maybe enemies shouldn't have blue eyes and jawlines that could cut glass."
I glared at her. "I hope he trips on his way out."
She only chuckled. "Fine, fine. But admit it - he's kinda hot for a rival."
I groaned louder. "You're impossible."
And yet, as her laughter filled the room, my mind betrayed me - flashing back to that smirk, those cold blue eyes, the way he looked at me like he'd already won something.
I hated that it made my heart skip.
I hated him.
But I had a feeling... he wasn't going anywhere.