Author POV
The next morning, Ranvijay met his best friend, Gourav, outside their usual meeting spot near the village well. Gourav was barefoot, his clothes patched in several places, but his grin was wide as ever.
“Guess who I met yesterday?” Ranvijay said, leaning against the well.
Gourav raised an eyebrow. “Who?”
Ranvijay looked around, lowered his voice. “I met the boss’s daughter yesterday.”
Gourav’s eyes lit up. “What? The little princess of hell herself?”
Ranvijay gave a faint smile. “Her name’s Ashita. She’s… not like them.”
“She’s rich, that’s what she is.” Gourav said to him.
Ranvijay nodded. “My parents told me to stay away from her.”
Gourav scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Parents say a lot of things, bro. Ignore them. Do you know how rich she is? She has things we can only dream of. Expensive toys, games—stuff we’ll never afford.”
Ranvijay hesitated, thinking of the pretty silk dress Ashita had worn, the shine of her polished shoes. She had looked like she belonged to another world.
A world he had never even imagined entering.
Gourav nudged his shoulder. “Come on, let’s go to her mansion, before someone else becomes her new toy-friend”
That was all the convincing Ranvijay needed. A slow grin formed on his face. “Alright.”
Together, the boys headed toward the grand Rajput mansion, unaware of how deeply their lives would become entangled with its dark secrets.
Meanwhile, inside the mansion, Vikram Rajput sat in his lavish study, swirling a glass of whiskey in his hand. A cruel smirk played on his lips as he eyed the man standing before him.
Ramesh.
His wife, Sulekha, stood beside him, her hands clasped tightly together. Fear radiated from both of them.
Vikram leaned back in his chair, exuding power and dominance. “Tell me, Ramesh,” he said smoothly, “how much will you charge for your wife for one night?”
The words struck like a knife.
Silence.
Ramesh stared at him, disbelief contorting his face.
Sulekha gasped, frozen.
Vikram didn’t flinch. His smirk was cold. “I asked a simple question. What’s her worth to you?”
Ramesh's face paled, his hands balling into fists at his sides.
He glanced at Sulekha, whose eyes were wide with terror. The thought of what Vikram was asking was unthinkable, a line he refused to cross.
“Shame on you,” he said, voice low and shaking. “You keep a dirty eye on another man’s wife? You think because you have power, we have no dignity?”
Vikram’s expression darkened slightly, but Ramesh didn’t stop.
“I may be poor, but I’m not made of filth like you. My wife is not for sale.”
Vikram's smile faltered for a moment, but it quickly returned, more sinister than before. “Oh, come now. I’ll pay handsomely. More than you’ll ever make in a lifetime.”
Ramesh grabbed Sulekha’s hand, his voice firm. “We’re leaving.”
Without waiting for permission, they turned on their heels and stormed out of the mansion. Vikram watched them go, amusement flickering in his dark eyes.
He took another sip of his whiskey, a sinister grin spreading across his face. “We’ll see how long your pride lasts, Ramesh.”
Ranvijay stood under the large banyan tree; his arms crossed as he watched Ashita curiously. She stood between him and Gourav, her hands on her hips, a determined expression on her face.
“This is my best friend, Gourav,” Ranvijay introduced, gesturing towards the scrawny boy beside him. “He’s as annoying as a mosquito but not as dangerous.”
Gourav grinned. “And you’re as grumpy as an old man, but I still put up with you.”
Ashita giggled, her golden bangles jingling as she extended her hand. “Nice to meet you, Gourav.”
Gourav hesitated before shaking her hand. “I’ve never met a mafia princess before.”
Ashita frowned. “I’m not a princess.”
“Well, you sure look like one,” Gourav teased. “All dressed up like that.”
Ashita rolled her eyes. “I’m just like you two.”
Ranvijay smirked. “We’ll see about that. If you’re really one of us, then play with us.”
Ashita nodded eagerly. “What are we playing?”
Soon, they were running through the fields, playing tag with the other village children. Ashita’s laughter echoed as she darted between them, her silk dress getting dirt-stained, but she didn’t seem to care. For the first time in a long time, Ranvijay felt light, as if nothing else mattered.
Meanwhile, in a small, dimly lit hut, Sulekha carefully folded clothes into a bag. Her hands trembled as she placed a small bundle of money on top before tying the sack shut.
Ramesh stood by the doorway; his jaw tight with determination.
“We cannot stay here,” he muttered. “Vikram will never let us live in peace.”
Sulekha nodded, her eyes welling with unshed tears. “We should have left long ago.”
“I’ll go get Ranvijay,” Ramesh said, walking toward the door. He took a step toward the door, his hand reaching for the handle. But as soon as he pulled it open, A fist slammed into his jaw, cracking like thunder. Ramesh staggered back, blood already trailing from his lip.
A group of men stormed inside; their faces obscured by shadows. Before Ramesh could react, rough hands grabbed him with a force that left no room for resistance. Sulekha screamed, rushing forward, but she was yanked back, a strong grip restraining her.
And there he stood.
Vikram Rajput.
His sharp gaze swept across the tiny hut before settling on Sulekha. A slow smirk stretched across his lips as he took a step closer, his eyes dark and unreadable.
Sulekha's heart raced as she struggled against the hands that held her, her mind racing with the fear of what was to come.
“You thought you could leave?” Vikram murmured, tilting his head as he scanned Sulekha’s trembling form.
She clenched her fists, glaring at him, but her body betrayed her fear.
Ramesh struggled to his feet, breathing heavy. “Please… just let us go. We’ll disappear. We’ll never come in your way.”
Vikram smiled.
Then punched him again—this time across the cheek, harder. Ramesh fell to his knees.
Sulekha screamed and ran to him. “Stop! Please! I beg you!”
She placed herself between the two men, shielding her husband.
But Vikram wasn’t looking at Ramesh anymore.
His gaze shifted.
To her.
To the curve of her cheek, the fear in her eyes, the strength in her trembling body. She was draped in a saree, the fabric clinging to her curves in a way that made his lips curl into a wicked smile.
He stepped closer.
His eyes—dark, heavy with lust—raked over her.
“Take Ramesh outside. Wait for me.” he ordered his men without looking away from Sulekha.
Ramesh’s face went white. “NO! Please! Let me stay! Don’t touch her—don’t—!”
Without hesitation, his men obeyed, dragging Ramesh out of the hut. His voice broke as two men grabbed him by the arms and dragged him out of the house.
Ramesh screamed and kicked, fighting like a wild animal, desperate to stay.
“Sulekha!” he cried.
Sulekha tried to follow—tried to reach the door— But Vikram grabbed her by her hair, yanking her back into the room.
She cried out, struggling.
The door slammed shut with a resounding thud, the sound echoing the finality of their capture and leaving Vikram and Sulekha alone in the suffocating silence.
He stepped closer, his shadow looming over her, his presence suffocating and oppressive.
“Now, where were we?” he asked, a predatory smile twisting his lips.
Ranvijay was breathless as he raced through the village, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. A frail, elderly man had stopped him mid-play, panting and stammering in terror.
“Ranvijay! Your house... Vikram and his men... they’re there!”
Ranvijay froze.
The blood drained from his face.
“What… what did you say?” he asked.
But the man was already turning back, running toward the path again. “Hurry!”
Ranvijay didn’t wait. He dropped the mud in his hands and ran.
Faster than he ever had.
“Ranvijay! Wait!” Gourav shouted, stumbling behind.
But Ranvijay didn’t stop. The wind howled past his ears. His heart beat louder than his footsteps.
He didn’t know what he’d see.
Ranvijay’s feet pounded against the ground as he ran. His lungs burned, and the sweat in his eyes blurred his vision. He turned the last corner—his home now in sight—when he froze.
Just a few meters ahead, Vikram Rajput stepped out of the hut, buttoning up his shirt and zipping his pants with the calm arrogance of a man who believed the world belonged to him.
There was no shame in his stride. No guilt. Just smug satisfaction.
Behind him, two of his men dragged a bloodied, broken Ramesh, then dropped him on the ground like trash.
Vikram smirked. Then turned to his men and said, “Let’s go.”
Vikram didn’t look back. He got into his car and drove away, the tires kicking up a storm of dust that clouded the evening sun.
And just like that, the monster vanished down the dusty road. Ranvijay stood frozen, heart pounding in his ears.
“Baba!” he screamed. (Father!)
He ran to his father, dropped to his knees. Blood smeared across Ramesh’s face. His shirt was torn, bruises blooming purple across his jaw and ribs.
His father’s eyes, red with pain, met his son’s gaze. “I couldn’t save her, Ranvijay... I couldn’t save your mother... Vikram... Vikram destroyed everything…”
For a moment, Ranvijay stood frozen.
He couldn't speak.
His throat was tight, constricted.
His father’s cries only grew louder, his voice cracking with sorrow. “I couldn’t save her... Vikram… he took her away from us...”
Without another thought, Ranvijay pushed past him, run towards the hut.
The door was open, he stepped inside. There, on the cold floor, was his mother. Her body lay lifeless, her sari was in pieces, her lip split, blood pooling under her still body, her once-beautiful face now bruised, disfigured. Her eyes were closed.
“Ma…?” he whispered, his breath catching in his throat. His legs gave way, and he collapsed to his knees beside her, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch her cold skin.
But she was cold.
Lifeless.
“Maa… please…” he begged, tears spilling uncontrollably.
His hands were too small to carry her pain. His heart too young to bear the grief.
Then he heard the door creak, his father stumbled in behind him.
Ramesh fell to his knees beside Sulekha, his cries of anguish piercing the suffocating stillness. He clutched her, rocking back and forth, whispering words of regret and sorrow.
Ranvijay remained frozen, his body numb, his mind unable to process the nightmare before him.
His mother was dead.
His father was breaking apart.
Everything was gone.
Then, before he could react, Ramesh’s trembling fingers wrapped around a discarded gun—left behind by one of Vikram’s men in their carelessness.
Ranvijay’s eyes widened in horror. “Baba, no!”
But Ramesh was already on his feet, already reaching for it.
“BABA!” Ranvijay screamed, crawling toward him.
Ramesh turned back; eyes filled with unbearable sorrow. “Forgive me, son.”
Bang!
The sound echoed through the walls. Blood sprayed against the back wall. Ramesh’s body crumpled beside Sulekha’s.
Ranvijay fell silent. He stared at the bodies of his parents…
His mother, dead.
His father, dead.
His childhood, murdered.
Only one thing remained alive inside the little boy who stared into the void with burning eyes.
Hatred.

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