AKSHAT

1 month ago

The heavy metal doors of the boardroom clinked open as my guards pushed them wide. I stepped inside, my boots echoing against the marble floor, every eye in the room turning toward me.

Ranbeer. Abhimanyu. Anamika. Devansh. Daksh. Amayra. Lakshya. Aliya. Rishabh. Ashrit. Aaishvarya.

All of them here. My gut clenched. I hadn’t expected this.

I took my seat directly across from Amayra, my gaze sharp, calculating.

My stomach sank as I scanned the room. I got the call out of nowhere. No warning. When I questioned security from the Krishnas, all they told me was: “Someone important who was lost to the syndicate has returned.”

No names. No details. No clue whether this would bring fortune… or blood.

Something’s off.

“Do you have any idea what this is about?” Devansh asked, his tone clipped.

Rakshit shook his head.

“We can’t expect anything from Krishna anyway…” Amayra exhaled, crossing her arms.

For once, I agreed. Krishna never played fair.

We all sat in silence, but I couldn’t stop the memories that clawed their way up. All of us had gone to the same college—some seniors, some juniors. Different years, same circle. All bound by one man: Guru Dada.

And the reason that bond broke? Girish.

My fist clenched under the table. One day, I’ll crush that bastard with my bare hands.

But what if this meeting… was about him?

My breath caught. Did Krishna finally find something?

God, I hope so.

The doors swung again, and Arjun strode in, tossing himself into a chair like he owned the place. “Looks like Krishna’s about to blow the city again,” he muttered.

“Or worse, blow us,” Ranbeer said dryly.

“That would be bad for your son, wouldn’t it?” Abhimanyu quipped, stretching lazily.

“No. He’s got better people than me to take care of him,” Ranbeer replied flatly.

“A father is still a father,” Aaishvarya said quietly.

“I was never an ideal one. Never have been,” Ranbeer answered, voice blank, dead.

Abhimanyu scoffed. “That’s why I never wanted kids.”

Amayra arched a brow. “Then what’s this I hear about you sharing a home with a woman and her four-year-old?”

I snapped my head toward her. She gave me a pointed nod.

A slow smirk curved my lips. This bastard always claimed he hated kids. Interesting.

“Is it true?” Rakshit asked.

Before Abhimanyu could answer, Arjun cut in. “You didn’t know?”

“You did?” Rakshit shot back.

I grinned at Amayra. This was getting entertaining.

“No—I mean—you should’ve known. I thought—” Abhimanyu waved his hand dismissively.

Rakshit’s glare deepened, and I shook my head, chuckling darkly.

A second later, Abhimanyu hurled a tissue box at Amayra. She dodged it with a smirk.

“So it is true,” she confirmed, smug.

“You guys haven’t changed a damn bit,” Aaishvarya muttered, shaking her head.

“What the hell is this about? Really, dude—you were secretly married or something?” Lakshya asked, his voice dripping with disbelief.

Before anyone could answer, the door banged open and Ajay sprinted inside.

And fuck me—he looked like… no. I won’t even put a name to that look.

Amayra whistled low, phone in hand as she snapped a picture.

“Who mugged you?” Devansh barked a laugh.

“Don’t you fucking start!” Ajay snapped, glaring for the first time in forever, but of course—no one took him seriously.

“I expected a lot of things today, but not this,” Abhimanyu muttered, eyeing him like he was staring at a circus act.

Arjun’s expression mirrored the same shock, and the two of them were already bickering about something I couldn’t even bother to follow.

“You boys seem to be hiding something juicy,” Aaishvarya teased, her tone sweet but sharp.

“None of your damn business,” Ajay grunted

“Do tell me, what are all of us here for? It’s unusual for us to be called together like this,” Ajay asked, his voice already edged with suspicion.

I leaned forward, my jaw tight. “I heard someone important returned. With news. About the Syndicate.”

A curse slipped out of Devansh. “Oh God…”

“Oh God, indeed,” Ajay muttered, dragging his hands down his face.

The room went still as the heavy door creaked open. A man about our age walked in, armed shadows flanking him. His presence was suffocating—demanding attention, respect, fear. Whoever he was, he wasn’t ordinary.

My fingers twitched against the table. Who the hell is this? Did something actually happen with the Krishna group?

My chest tightened. Is this Krishna?

No. Krishna would never expose himself like this. Not unless—

Unless he had something real. Something solid. Maybe even on Girish.

The man smirked, his eyes scanning us like a predator sizing prey. “Oh boy… now this is what we call tension.”

The bastard was enjoying himself.

“I should introduce myself before you all decide to kill me.”

“You definitely should,” Devansh said, his voice dropping lower, like a growl.

“I’m Aryan. I work under Krishna—directly. And when I say directly…” he paused, leaning back with deliberate arrogance, “…I mean directly. That’s all you need to know.” He took his seat like he owned the damn room.

Relief mixed with irritation in my gut. So he’s not Krishna. Good. But bold enough to walk in like he is? Dangerous.

“Why are all of us here?” Amayra asked, her voice steady but her eyes sharp.

“Because we need everyone’s assistance in one of our assignments,” Aryan replied, his tone casual but his words carrying weight. “If we succeed—and that’s a very big if—it will give us a solid lead toward getting closer to the Rakta Chakras.”

I froze. That name always did it.

“We’re all in,” Devansh said without hesitation.

“That’s what I thought,” Aryan smirked, leaning back in his chair. “So we all have to make sure we leave no loose ends. A single mistake will cost us more than our lives… as we all know Girish.”

He gestured to the guards. They stepped forward, handing out files. Photographs scattered across the table, faces staring up at us.

Something tugged at the back of my memory. I knew I’d seen him before.

“Who’s this?” Ashrit asked.

I lifted my eyes to Aryan, waiting.

“This is Shourya Avasthi,” Aryan said, his voice flat. “Son of Yashraj Avasthi. Yashraj is an industrialist on paper, but behind the curtain? He works directly under Girish. We can’t get close to Yashraj directly, so we go through his son. This man right here.” His finger tapped the photo. “Any ideas on how to make that happen?”

“Why him?” Arjun asked, his voice low and clipped.

“Because he’s the safest passage,” Aryan replied. “His father made him the public face of their so-called ‘innocent’ company—the same company used to launder dirty money and mask half their syndicate dealings. If we get to him, we get to his father. And that gives us our first alias within the Rakta Chakras.”

Ashrit leaned forward. “What else do we know?”

Aryan’s eyes narrowed. “We’re not sure if Shourya himself is directly involved with the Chakras. What we do know is that he works under Abhishek Sharma’s company. He’s the only one of Yashraj’s sons who lives in the light. The others? Ghosts. Not a single trace to pin on them.” He scoffed. “So—any ideas?”

“We could kidnap him. Trade him, maybe?” Devansh suggested.

Aryan shook his head. “That’s the problem. They’re not amateurs. If we go for something that sloppy, they’ll smell us from a mile away. Kidnapping the son of a man who works for the syndicate—the same syndicate that runs global smuggling and practically owns half the goddamn underworld?” He let out a cold laugh. “That’s suicide.”

“Kidnapping the son of someone who works for the syndicate that controls worldwide smuggling, basically the godfather himself—yeah, it’s too much of a risk…” Ajay agreed, his voice gruff.

“I volunteer.”

The word sliced through the room like a knife.

Amayra stood up, her chin tilted with the same recklessness that made my heart sink every damn time.

I knew what was coming.

And I hated it.

“For what exactly, Miss Dixit?” Aryan asked, smirking as he leaned further back into his chair, enjoying the chaos he knew she was about to unleash.

“Marrying him.”

Every head in the room snapped toward her.

I dropped my head, dragging a hand over my face. This woman…

“What is this? Love at first sight?” Rishabh scoffed.

“For god’s sake, Amayra—this is not a joke!” I snapped, my glare locking on her. My tone was sharp enough to cut steel.

“Amayra, I think you should—” Rakshit began.

But she cut him off. “Yashraj Avasthi is under my debt. A huge debt. So in exchange, I’ll bribe him to marry off his son. That bastard isn’t giving me my money back anyway. He’s desperate. I’ll marry the son, infiltrate the family, and finish the mission.”

Her voice was steady, but my jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

“I hope it’s as easy as it sounds.” Ajay muttered.

“It is.” Amayra deadpanned.

I shook my head in disapproval, rage simmering in my gut.

“No, it’s not. What about the questions that are going to rise from such a sudden arrangement?” Ashrit argued.

“It’s too dangerous, Amayra. What if they find out about it?” Rakshit added.

Lakshya leaned forward, his voice sharp. “There’s no doubt Amayra can handle herself, but we can’t just trust Shourya either. What if he’s already working for them?”

Her eyes flared with fire. “Then there will be one less member of the syndicate that destroyed all our lives. I’ll end him. And his son. If they get in the way.”

The room stilled.

I could see where this anger was coming from. And I couldn’t say her fury wasn’t justified. But this? This was a suicide mission.

She was like a little sister to me. I wasn’t going to let anything happen to her.

“How is he under your debt?” Anamika asked, her voice low.

Amayra shrugged, nonchalant. “Every spoiled politician, industrialist, and businessman is under my debt. Anyone can be useful. Wasn’t a hard job for me.”

“Money.” Ajay scoffed, disgust dripping from the word.

Amayra’s gaze hardened. “We all know what we’ve been through. And this is the shot we’ve got to get closer to them. I’m volunteering because I want to end what they started.”

Her voice was unwavering, solid as iron.

“Amayra, we’re not against you on this, but at least think it through,” Ranbeer started cautiously, his tone tight.

“You’re talking about directly walking into enemy territory… it’ll only be you and their people…” Daksh added, worry lacing his words.

“And not to mention, if they find out about us through you—” Aaishvarya began, her voice trembling.

“I’d rather die than give us away,” Amayra cut her off coldly.

“That’s why we don’t want you to directly—” Lakshya started.

“The safest hands are our own.” Her voice was firm, slicing through his sentence.

She was stubborn. Stubborn enough to get herself killed.

This can’t be happening. If there was any other way, I’d already have taken it.

“I’m doing this,” Amayra snapped. “Whether you like it or not. I don’t give a damn about my life—it’s useless anyway. Aryan, I volunteer. I’ll marry him and infiltrate his house.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Heavy. Deadly.

I clenched my jaw. No. We can’t lose anyone else. Not like this.

“You’ll have everything on him by morning, at your doorstep,” Aryan said at last, his tone ice-cold. “Still… it’s too dangerous to carry out alone. This is a two-person job. Anyone else want to join the lady? Just to keep an eye out for possible threats…”

That was it. Decision made.

“I volunteer,” I said, my voice calm but edged like a blade.

Amayra’s head snapped toward me, her eyes flashing. “And what will you do, Mr. Gupta?” she spat.

I met her glare without flinching. “I’ll run a small bakery or café right in front of your husband’s building. I won’t be there every day, but my men will. I’ll drop in often enough to keep watch.” My tone dropped lower, colder. “Whether you agree or not doesn’t matter. I’ll do it anyway. With my mother’s bakery name, I can manage a new branch easily. Nobody will suspect a thing.”

She opened her mouth, ready to argue, but Aryan cut in sharply. “You’re in.” He shot Amayra a look that silenced her instantly. “Consider this direct orders from Krishna.”

I exhaled slowly, nodding at Aryan. Finally, someone who understood.

But then I saw her storm out, fury radiating off her.

I sighed, sinking back into my chair. I’ll talk to her later.

Lakshya tried again, “If somehow all of us can—”

“The more people involved in this, the more dangerous it becomes. These two will do fine,” Aryan said.

I gave him a short nod, eyes narrowing.

“There’s something else,” Aryan continued.

The room stilled. Everyone knew what that tone meant.

“For the past six years, through infiltration in small brothels and gangs, we discovered that most of them were connected to one of the bigger syndicates. Another branch apart from the one Yashraj controls. This…” He exhaled, lips curling into a bitter smirk. “This is the largest human trafficking network in existence. The Red Room. The Torture House. Everything. A whole damn city that doesn’t exist on the map—unknown to the public, unknown to the law.” He chuckled darkly. “Well, who am I kidding? The government knows. They just won’t touch it—it would tear them apart from the inside.”

The silence thickened.

Aryan’s gaze hardened. “Krishna and I don’t know who’s running it yet. But there’s a possibility whoever is behind this already has Krishna in his sights. I want a volunteer to infiltrate that city. I’ll be joined by two colleagues, but it’s a fresh start. No loose ends. If we’re caught, we’ll never make it out alive. That’s the truth. So listen carefully—I’m not allowing anyone with wives, kids, parents, or family. And no women. I don’t care how strong you think you are, that place is not a battlefield. It’s hell itself.”

A heavy silence followed.

“It’s a good thing Amayra left,” Aaishvarya muttered, glaring daggers at Aryan.

“Exactly…” Ajay murmured.

I smirked. Thank God.

“I volunteer,” Devansh said.

Aryan’s eyes sharpened. “I need you to be sure.”

“I don’t have anyone. No family. No ties. No loose ends.” Devansh’s voice was steady, but final.

“Devansh—” Rakshit started.

“I don’t need a second to rethink this. I’m in. You all still have people who depend on you. I don’t.”

Again, that same soul-crushing silence.

Aryan finally spoke. “That’s all for now. Stay updated on the news from us and Krishna. We’ll crush the Rakta Chakras into the dirt.”

We rose, the weight of his words pressing into our chests.

I stepped outside, pulling in a sharp breath of cold air, when I saw her leaning against the gate—Amayra. Cigarette in hand.

I clenched my jaw and walked over, plucking it from her mouth and flicking it away. “Weren’t you the one who used to lecture me in college about how this shit kills?”

She rolled her eyes. “Look, I know—”

“Don’t start right now. I can handle my shit,” she snapped, her voice sharp.

I exhaled, nostrils flaring. “Amayra… you’re under my creed. That means your life isn’t yours to gamble with. I swore I’d protect you when I brought you in. Whether you like it or not, we’re in this together. And don’t forget—I can come in real handy in your work.”

She glared, fire flashing in her eyes.

“Just hear me out,” I said.

“Ten minutes,” she hissed.

I nodded. “Fine. Listen—Shourya Avasthi works at Abhimanyu’s company. Just a starter. I’ll open a café opposite his office—low profile. That’ll give us a base of operations, eyes on the ground, and a perfect information hub since there are no other cafés nearby. Easy access. Easy bait. If Shourya’s the one pretending, that’s our opening. And if not—we’ll still have leverage. You’ll run point, but at least let me stay as backup.”

Her silence stretched before she finally nodded. “Alright.”

I raised a fist. She smirked and bumped hers against mine.

PRESENT DAY

After wrapping up business with the Awasthis, I stepped out of the café, my men trailing behind me. The night air should’ve felt calm—steady—but something stormed into me instead, ripping apart the fragile control I’d been holding on to. I didn’t know what the hell I was feeling, only that it was dangerous.

I crouched down on the empty road, letting the cold air hit my face, trying to steady the chaos inside.

“Everything okay, boss?” Jay’s voice broke through the silence.

I gave a curt nod, jaw tight.

“Sir…” Umesh approached carefully, extending his phone to me like it was a weapon. “It’s Rayan. He says it’s important.”

I snatched the phone, pressed it to my ear. “What?” My tone was sharp, clipped.

“Sir… about the people who were keeping an eye on us a few days ago? The ones asking questions about our movements… I just found out—Miss Trisha hired them.”

My brows shot up, surprise flashing through me before I let a smirk tug at my lips.

When did you get so naughty, Trisha?

My voice dropped, “Are there still any of them watching us?” I asked.

“Yes, sir. They’re still keeping an eye on you.”

A low, humorless chuckle escaped me. “Then let’s give them a show.”

Ryan asked confused. “Sir?”

“Contact more of my men. I want them here within five minutes,” I ordered, my tone leaving no room for argument. “Tell them to pose as debt collectors.”

His hesitation was brief, but I caught it. “But sir—”

“Five minutes,” I cut him off, my voice a razor-sharp warning. My eyes darkened as I added, “Forge fake documents, too. And you know damn well how to get those papers into her hands.” Without waiting for a response, I hung up the phone.

The rest of the men were staring at me, confusion written all over their faces.

I pushed myself up from the ground, dusting off my hands as I stretched my shoulders. My voice came out low, sharp enough to slice through the silence.

“Thirty minutes. Leave me the fuck alone. I don’t want a single one of you near me.”

“B–But sir!”

Their chorus was too loud, too desperate, and it grated on my ears. I flinched at the audacity, my jaw ticking.

“I get it, you fuckers love me too much. But when I say fuck off—” I narrowed my eyes, my tone dropping into something lethal, “—you fuck off.”

That did the trick. They scattered back instantly, shuffling away like scared dogs who’d just seen their master raise the whip.

I exhaled slowly, tilting my head back. My Trisha wants to find a weak spot… too bad I don’t have one.

…Who am I kidding? It’s her. Always her. She’s the only weakness I’d ever admit to, and I’d die before I gave anyone the chance to use that against me.

But tonight? I’ll craft a distraction. A fake vulnerability.

A grin tugged at my lips as the thought formed. Let her dig. Let them all dig. I’ll bury them in what I want them to believe.

I’ll make it look like I’m drowning in a debt so massive it could break me. I’ll make it look like the only reason I’m breathing is because I sold my soul to save my mother’s café—the one place in this world I can’t let crumble. That will be my illusion. A temporary wound.

Let’s see if she can resist trying to press on it.

My phone buzzed. The vibration snapped me out of my dark amusement. I pulled it from my pocket and glanced at the screen.

A message. From Ajay.

: Code 590.

My brows shot up instantly. That wasn’t routine. That wasn’t casual business. Code 590 meant blood. Meant someone was trying something they’d regret.

I never got that code unless the stakes were high. Too high.

“Rooh,” I called, my voice steady, commanding.

“Yes, sir.” He appeared instantly, his posture straight, his eyes locked on mine like a loyal soldier awaiting his orders.

“There’s a folder waiting in my boardroom,” I said, my tone clipped. “Bring it to me. Now.”

He didn’t ask questions. Didn’t hesitate. Just nodded and sprinted down the hallway, his footsteps echoing.

And I?

I leaned back in the chair, rolling my shoulders, my pulse calm despite the storm brewing inside me.

I wasn’t waiting for Rooh. No. I was waiting for them.

The debt collectors.

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hiiiiiiiii my lovelies i hope you are loving this chapter all these characters mention int his chapter will have there own povs in there own chapters in there own book so keep your eyes out one of the books are already out