Author POV

Vedant leaned back against the leather couch, his fingers lightly tapping the armrest. The dimly lit room smelled of whiskey, gunpowder, and the faint traces of blood from past battles. Across from him, Mehul and Akshat sat, their expressions serious.

Mehul was the tech genius of the Roy Empire—an expert in hacking, surveillance, and encryption. If there was something digital, Mehul could manipulate it. He leaned forward; his sharp eyes fixed on Vedant.

Akshat, on the other hand, knew everything about weapons and supply chains. He had built connections with arms dealers across continents, making sure the Roy Empire never lacked firepower. His knowledge of weapons was unmatched.

Both men had been loyal to Uday Roy for years, but they had always chosen to stand beside Vedant when it mattered.

Tonight was no different.

Vedant leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “You both know where I’m going,” he said, his voice low and firm. “I don’t trust my father, and I sure as hell don’t trust the people, he surrounds himself with.”

Mehul exhaled sharply. “No surprise there. Uday Roy would sell his own blood if it meant strengthening his empire.”

Vedant’s jaw tightened. “He already did.”

A heavy silence followed. They all knew what he was referring to. The night Uday forced Vedant to pull the trigger on his own mother.

Akshat was the first to break the silence. “You think Uday will use this mission to get rid of you?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Vedant muttered. “That’s why I need you both. If things go south, I want my own backup, not his.”

Mehul grinned and pulled a small black phone from his pocket. “Already thought of that.” He tossed it to Vedant.

Vedant caught it and studied the device. It was sleek, unbranded, and encrypted.

Mehul smirked. “It’s completely untraceable. The moment you enter Solanki territory, I’ll be able to track you, but no one else will. Only you, me, and Akshat have access to this line. If Uday or any of his men try to listen in? They’ll hear nothing.”

Vedant nodded, pocketing the device. “Good. I don’t plan on letting him control this mission.”

Akshat exhaled, rolling his shoulders. “This mission is going to be hell, Vedant. You really ready to play the obedient servant?”

Vedant’s lips curled into a smirk. “For now. But when the time comes, I’ll make them all kneel before me.”

The Next Morning

Vedant sat in the backseat of a black SUV, staring out of the tinted windows as the vehicle approached the Solanki estate.

It was vast. Guard towers, high walls, security cameras—everything about it screamed power and paranoia. These people weren’t just rich; they were rulers of a kingdom built on blood.

The car came to a slow halt in front of the massive iron gates, which opened only after two armed guards finished scanning the vehicle. The morning air was thick with the scent of gun oil and fresh earth. A fortress.

His sharp eyes swept across the estate, scanning every entry point, every guard, every hidden weapon. With one last glance at the towering mansion, Vedant stepped out of the car and into the lion’s den

The moment Vedant stepped inside the Solanki estate; he felt the weight of a hundred eyes on him. Men lined the hallways, armed to the teeth—knives tucked into belts, guns bulging under jackets.

This was no ordinary household. This was a fortress of killers.

A man grabbed Vedant’s arm roughly and shoved him forward. “Move.”

Vedant allowed it—for now.

He was escorted through the grand corridors, the scent of gunpowder and blood lingering in the air. After a few turns, they entered a large, dimly lit room where several men stood in a line. Servants. Fighters. Killers in training. And at the center of it all stood Bali.

Bali – The Beast of Solanki Empire

Bali was a monster of a man—tall, broad-shouldered, and built like a war machine. His face was marred by an ugly scar that ran from his temple to his jaw. But what stood out the most were his cold, gray eyes—dead and merciless.

Next to him stood Ketan Solanki, the heir to the empire and the one who handled most security matters with Bali.

Ketan was young, powerful, and calculating. He had the same muscular build as Bali, but his sharp features made him look more refined.

Vedant took his place in the line, his towering frame effortlessly standing out.

Bali’s gaze flickered over each servant, scanning them like cattle before slaughter. His eyes briefly settled on Vedant.

Then lingered.

Ketan, too, was watching him with interest. They had seen many men, but none like Vedant Roy.

There was something different about him. Something… dangerous.

Bali took a step closer, arms crossed over his chest. His voice was deep and guttural. "Can you fight?"

Vedant didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he simply gave a slow, silent nod.

That silence—that complete lack of fear—made the air thick with tension.

Bali’s expression darkened. He didn’t like the arrogance in Vedant’s lack of words. He smirked cruelly. “Good. You’ll need it.”

He turned to one of his men and signaled toward a doorway. “Take him to the testing room. We need to see if he’s worth anything before we assign him.”

Ketan, standing beside him, watched Vedant closely. “If you fail, you’re dead,” he said coldly.

Vedant remained still, unreadable.

Two guards moved forward, signaling for Vedant to follow. He walked ahead of them, his steps calm, controlled.

As they moved down the dim hallway, Vedant felt it.

The shift in energy.

The faintest scrape of boots against the floor behind him. Before he even turned around, he knew what was coming.

A test.

Or a trap.

The Attack

The moment they entered the hallway, the air shifted.

Vedant’s senses sharpened. He heard it before he saw it— The sound of shifting fabric, the faint scrape of a blade being unsheathed.

Then—They attacked.

Five men. Knives drawn. Silent. Fast.

In a blink, Vedant’s hand snapped forward, grabbing Ketan’s knife right from his belt. Before anyone could react—

The blade cut through the air in a deadly arc—

Five throats slit open.

A single move.

The men collapsed, gurgling, their blood spilling onto the polished floor. The entire room fell silent. Blood pooled at Vedant’s feet.        

Vedant flicked the knife to the ground, his dark eyes locking onto Bali’s.

Bali exhaled slowly; his expression unreadable. But inside, he knew.

This was no ordinary servant.

(Vedant’s POV)

The halls of the Solanki estate were grand, but I had no interest in admiring them.

Bali walked ahead, his back stiff, shoulders squared like he was ready for a fight, while Ketan matched my pace. He wasn’t walking beside me. He was circling me.

Like a predator studying his next kill.

When I had pulled that stunt earlier—killing those men in seconds—he had clapped. He liked the show.

Not out of amusement.

Not out of encouragement.

But because he had found another weapon to use. Another gulam.

His smirk was unreadable as he turned to Bali. "Take him to my father. Let’s see if he’s worth keeping.”

Bali gave a stiff nod, but his guard never lowered. He didn’t trust me—and he shouldn’t.

As we walked, Ketan suddenly asked, "Your name?"

"Vedant," I replied evenly. He arched a brow. "And your full name?"

I met his gaze without hesitation. "Vedant Khanna."

It wasn’t a lie. Not entirely. That was the identity Uday had given me—the one that would hold up to any background check. Ketan hummed, glancing at Bali. "Verify it."

Bali didn’t respond, but I knew he would. He was too careful not to.

I stayed silent. I wasn’t afraid of being caught. My father had made sure my cover was airtight. The only real danger here… was the one standing beside me.

We arrived at a massive door guarded by two men. Ketan entered first, leaving me and Bali outside. For a few minutes, we waited. Then Ketan’s signal came.

Bali grabbed my arm—not roughly, but firm enough to remind me that he didn’t trust me. He led me inside. The moment I stepped into the room, I met him.

Jitendra Solanki. The man who ruled this empire.

He sat at the head of a long table, where his men had been discussing something important before we arrived. His presence was overwhelming—not loud, not aggressive, but cold. Calculated.

His gaze was sharp as a blade, dissecting me the moment I walked in. I had met many men like him.

Killers. Leaders. Monsters.

But something about Jitendra felt different. More patient. More… aware. He lifted a hand, dismissing the meeting. His men filed out, leaving only him, Bali, Ketan, and me.

His fingers tapped against the polished wood, slow, patient, as his cold black eyes locked onto me. "Is this him?" he asked, voice deep and emotionless.

Ketan stepped forward, his voice firm and emotionless. “Yes”.

Jitendra leaned back in his chair; his expression unreadable.

Bali crossed his arms. “He’s strong. Skilled.” His tone was neutral, but I knew what he was really saying.

Dangerous. Untrustworthy.

Ketan smirked. "That’s exactly what we need. He is fast.” He tilted his head. "Too fast."

Jitendra nodded once, waiting.

"He didn’t hesitate," Ketan continued. "Didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink when he slit their throats. It wasn’t self-defense. It wasn’t fear."

He finally looked at me. "It was instinct."

Something sharp flickered in Jitendra’s eyes. A hint of intrigue. Ketan’s gaze flickered to me. Like I wasn’t a person. Just a tool.

"A man like that... shouldn’t be wasted as a simple servant." Ketan said flatly. He turned back to his father. “Give him to me.”

Bali tensed slightly. He didn’t like that. But Jitendra remained still, studying me with cold, patient eyes. "You think he's worthy of being a gulam?" Jitendra asked.

Ketan’s voice was cold. Final. "I know he is."

A long silence. Then, finally, Jitendra nodded. "Fine. He’s yours."

I had just been claimed. But what they didn’t know—what they would soon regret—Was that I didn’t belong to anyone.

Bali didn’t say a word as we walked through the estate, but I could feel his gaze on me—calculating, suspicious, dangerous. The air between us was thick with unspoken threats.

He led me past the main Solanki mansion, down a well-guarded path that connected to a guest house nearby. I had expected the servant quarters—dark, filthy, cramped spaces where they kept their pawns in check.

But Ketan had other plans. He wanted me close.

The guest house was still heavily secured, but it was far better than a servant’s quarter. Spacious, clean, private. A perfect place to keep an eye on me.

Bali stopped at a door, unlocking it before stepping aside. “This is your room.” I didn’t react, just stepped inside. The room was simple. A bed, a small desk, a cupboard. Functional. Nothing more. But I wasn’t here for comfort.

Bali stood at the doorway, arms crossed, his sharp grey eyes burning into me.

“If I find anything suspicious about you…” He took a step closer, his presence suffocating. “I don’t care who you are or where you come from. I’ll end you myself.”

I stared at him. Unmoved. Unbothered. I tilted my head slightly. “Noted.”

Bali’s jaw clenched. He exhaled sharply before stepping back. “Keep your head down. Do your job. And maybe you’ll live long enough to see tomorrow.”

With that, he slammed the door shut. I listened to his heavy footsteps fade down the hallway.

Then, in the silence, I allowed myself a smirk. Bali was right about one thing.

I wasn’t an ordinary servant. And soon… he’d regret letting me in.