Hello divine beauties 🪄

So, here the second chapter...

Enjoy reading 🪄

The club was an epitome of indulgence and chaos, where the rich came to drown their secrets and the daring tested their limits. The bass-heavy music reverberated through the walls, merging with the electric energy of flashing lights and provocative whispers. Amid the intoxicating blend of alcohol and lust, there existed a darker undercurrent - one that promised danger to the unwary.

Beyond the main floor, tucked behind an imposing set of double doors, was a secluded lounge. This wasn't a place for the frivolous; it was a sanctuary for those who thrived in shadows, where deals were struck, betrayals orchestrated, and empires built or destroyed. Tonight, the air in this room was thick with anticipation.

The door opened, and in stepped DARSHIT OBEROI.

Everything about him commanded attention - the confident stride, the crisp, tailored black suit that hugged his frame, and the aura of raw power that followed him like a shadow. His presence was enough to silence a room, his dark brown eyes scanning every corner, missing nothing. Darshit was a name whispered in boardrooms and feared in dynasty before breakfast and still have time to seal a multimillion - dollar deal.

Tonight, he wasn't here to party. He was here for business - a meeting that, on paper, was supposed to secure a lucrative deal. But Darshit Oberoi trusted no one. He knew the men he was meeting had a reputation for deception.

As he stepped inside, the room wasn't empty, but neither was it filled with the faces he expected. Instead, at the center of the room stood a dancer - a vision of temptation corapped in crimson silk. Her every movements was calculated, designed to seduce, to distract. The dim light cast a soft glow on her, accentuating her curves as she swaged to the faint rhythm in the background.

Darshit's lips curled into a slow, dangerous smirk. He leaned casually against a chair, the picture of nonchalance, but his mind was already at work. "Well", he drawled, his voice as smooth as velvet yet laced with a razor's edge, " I didn't realize negotiations came with a performance. "

The dancer stepped closer, her eyes holding a challenges, her lips curling into a seductive smile. "Consider it a gift, Mr. Oberoi", she pured, her voice honeyed with allure.

Darshit titled his head, his gaze unwavering. " Gifts", he said, his tone dropping, "always come with a price. I prefer to pay upfront"

Her hand slid down her waist, but Darshit's eyes caught the slight tremor in her movements. She wasn't just a distraction: she was part of atrap. The man who had summoned him thought they could play him, but Darshit wasn't just a businessman - he was a hunter, and tonight, they were his prey.

He allowed the game to play out, his sharp mind piercing together every move. When she finally lunged, her charm replaced by a blade hidden in her sash. Darshit moved faster. His grip caught her wrist mid-air, twisting it with a sickening crack. She gasped, the confidence draining from her face.

"Do you know what your mistake was? ", he asked, his tone eerily calm as he looked her straight in the eye. " You underestimated me".

With a swift motion, he ended her life, her body collapsing to the floor. The sound barely echoed before the door burst open, revealing his so-called business partners. They froze at the sight of the lifeless dancer and Darshit standing over her, unfazed.

He turned to them, his smirk dark and mocking, "Is this your idea of a negotiation ? A little unorthodox, don't you think?"

One of the men stuttered, attempting to explain, but Darshit silenced him with a single gunshot. The bullet ripped through the man's hand, and he fell to the floor, clutching it in agony.

Darshit stepped closer to the second man, his gun trained on his forehead. "Let me make one thing clear", he said, his voice low and lethal. " You don't waste my time, and you don't try to outsmart me. This is the first and last warning you'll ever get".

He paused, his dark eyes boring into the man's soul before adding coldly, "But I don't believe in warnings, do I ?"

The man trembled, his face pale, but Darshit simply scoffed, lowering his gun. With a final glance and dark chuckle at the carnage around him, he adjusted his cufflinks and strode out of the room with the confidence of a king leaving a battlefield.

That dark chuckle wasn't just any ordinary laugh; it was a death sentence etched upon their lives by Darshit. He never lets his prey escape, and as for those who betray him, he delivers a death so terrifying that the mere thought of it would send shivers down anyone spine.

As Darshit Oberoi stepped out of the club, the cool night air hit his face, a stark contrast to the smothering heat of the chaos he had left behind. He walked with an unhurried grace, each step deliberate, his sharp gaze sweeping the street as if daring the world to challenge him. The sleek black car parked at the curb gleamed under the streetlights, its tinted windows hiding the luxurious interior within.

The driver quickly opened the door, but Darshit barely acknowledge him, sliding into the leather seat with an air of detached authority. The door shut with a muffled thud, sealing him away from the noise and grim the city. He leaned back, his fingers brushing over his jaw as his mind replayed the night's events, analyzing every move, every word spoken.

Just as the car pulled onto the deserted road, his phone buzzed. The screen lit up with a familiar name - Kriti. His friend and PA, and the only person after his bestfriend he trusted with the intricate web of his empire. She was sharp, efficient, and as ruthless in her loyalty to him as he was in business.

"Darshit", Kriti began, her voice steady but with an undertone of nervousness.
" The new PA is finalized. She'll start tomorrow"

A cold pause followed, heavy with unspoken tension. Darshit's eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. "You finalized her?", he asked, the weight of his words cutting through the line.

" Yes", Kriti replied, a faint tremor betraying her confidence.

Darshit leaned forward slightly, the dim glow of passing streetlights casting sharp shadows on his face. "I hope you understand what's at stake here, Kriti",

Kriti swallowed hard, gripping her phone tightly, but she forced her voice to remain steady. "I understand, Darshit, I've done my research. She's capable"

"Capable isn't enough", Darshit shot back, his voice laced with quiet menace. " I've seen too many people crack under pressure. Trust doesn't come easily to me, Kriti - you know that. If this girl makes even one mistake, the consequences will extend to you".

A chill ran down Kriti's spine, but she squared her shoulders, knowing she couldn't show weakness. "I've never let you down before, Darshit", she said, her voice frimer now. " "And I won't start now. You'll see - I've made the right choice".

Darshit let out a low, mirthless chuckle, his smirk devoid of warmth. " You're betting a lot on your instincts, let's hope, for your sake, they don't fail you".

The call ended with a soft click, leaving Kriti staring at her phone, her heart racing. In the car, Darshit leaned back, his expression unreadable but his mind already dissecting every possibility. Trust was a luxury he couldn't afford - and he'd learned that the hard way.

As the car turned into the long driveway of the Oberoi mansion, Darshit's presence seemed to darken the very air around him. Even the grand estate, bathed in golden lights, felt cold in his shadow.

🔸🔸🔸

Darshit stepped out of a steaming shower, the warmth still clinging to his skin as he walks toward the dining room. The silence of the massive Oberoi mansion is broken only by the faint clinking of cutlery. As he enters the room, he sees his parents - SHRAVAN OBEROI and KAVITA OBEROI - seated across from each other at the long dining table, quietly eating dinner.

Shravan Oberoi, a legendary music composer, has left an indelible on the industry with his innovative and soulful. Kavita Oberoi, on the other hand, is a celebrated interior designer, the mastermind behind the breathtaking elegance of the Oberoi mansion. Every corner of the sprawling estate, down to the smallest detail, bears her meticulous touch - a reflection of her refined taste, which neither Shravan nor Darshit has ever dared to question.

In their mid-fifties, Shravan and Kavita radiate a youthful charm that defines their age. They are both icons in their respective fields, united by a shared brilliance yet divided by an inexplicable chasm. For the past 20 years, they have not spoken a single word to each other.

Darshit knows, however, that love still lingers between them - he's caught it in fleeting moments, like tonight, as his father's gaze lingers on his mother. Shravan's eyes, filled with a quiet yearning, betray the love he has always harbored for Kavita, the only woman he has ever loved. But the reason behind the silence between them remains a mystery to Darshit, one that has haunted him for years.

As always, Darshit's lips curl into a faint smile as he watches his father glance at his mother when he thinks no one is looking. There's something almost tender about the moment, despite the palpable distance between them.

Yet, Darshit himself is no stranger to this distance. His relationships with his parents is far from close. With Shravan, it's often contentious - his father finds Darshit's reckless, womanizing ways intolerable, while Darshit struggles to connect with his father's rigid ideals. His bond with Kavita, though slightly better, is still distant, tinged with a formality that leaves him longing for more.

Somewhere along the way, as his parents drifted apart, Darshit found himself drifting away from them as well. And tonight, like countless nights before, the silence in the dining room feels heavier than words, pressing down on all of them in its unspoken weight.

Darshit slid into his chair silently, the scrape of wood against the floor barely audible in the quiet dining room. Behind him, a servant stepped forward, placing his dinner plate neatly before retreating into the background. He picked up his fork, the metal cool against his fingers, and took his first bite, savoring the momentary calm.

The peace didn't last.

Kavita's voice, soft yet unyielding, broke through the silence like a stone dropped into still water. "Darshit", she began, her tone carrying both warmth and an unmistakable firmness, " I want you to meet Mrs. Mehta".

The words hit him mid-chew, and his movements froze for just a fraction of a second. From the corner of his eye, he caught Shravan's reaction - his father's usually composed face darkened, his jaw tightening as irritation simmered just beneath the surface. It wasn't the first time Darshit had seen this shift in his father's demeanor when Mrs. Mehta was mentioned, and it wouldn't be the last.

Darshit knew better than to ignore the history tied to that name. He had observed it time and again - Shravan's sudden anger whenever the woman was discussed or visited. Though the specifics remained a mystery. Darshit was certain Mrs. Mehta played some role in the right between his parents.

He didn't bother looking up. Spearing another bite of food, he spoke casually, yet his voice was sharp enough to slice through the air. "I'm not meeting that bitch".

The reaction was immediate.

Shravan, who had been tense until now, relaxed just enough for a smirk to tug at the corners of his lips. It was faint, fleeting, but Darshit noticed it, and it was enough to stir a flicker of amusement in him. For a moment, father and son were perfectly aligned in their disdain.

But the moment didn't last.

Kavita's expression hardened instantly, her usual calm shattered by anger.
" Darshit!" she snapped, her voice rising with maternal authority. "Mind your language. She's much older than you, and you owe her respect!"

Darshit finally looked up, his expression blank but his eyes filled with icy defiance. His words came slow, deliberate, and laced with venom, "She doesn't deserve my respect".

Kavita opened her mouth to counter, but before she could speak, a sudden, sharp sound cut through the tension.

The unmistakable crash of shattering glass echoed from outside, freezing all three of them in place. Darshit's fork hovered mid-air, Kavita's words hung unspoken, and Shravan turned his head sharply toward the source of the noise.

For a moment, the room was heavy with silence, save for the faint hum of their breathing. The three exchanged uncertainly glances, their earlier argument forgotten. The sound wasn't just loud - it carried a weight, a sense of foreboding that neither of them Could ignore.

As the three stepped outside, the sight before them struck like a lightning bolt. A young woman stood there, her red saree clinging to her as if it bare the weight of her grief. Her eyes, swollen and red from endless crying, burned with a mixture of anguish and fury. The vermillion in her hair was smeared, as if someone had tried to erase the sanctity of her marriage, and bruises covered her arms, while shards of broken bangles clung stubbornly to her wrists.

The guards hesitated, forming a wall around her but not daring to touch her, Shravan's orders had always been explicit - no guard was to lay a hand on any woman entering the mansion. While they stood there uncertainly, the woman's resolve burned brighter.

Her gaze fell on Darshit, and something inside her snapped. With trembling hands and eyes blazing, she shoved past the guards, her steps unsteady but determined. Her voice cracked as she marched toward him, a storm of rage and heartbreak in her every move.

" You!", she spat, her voice trembling yet sharp enough to cut through the tense silence. "Darshit Oberoi. The great ,untouchable Darshit Oberoi".

She pushed closer, reaching for his collar, but a guard stepped between them just in time, blocking her. Her lips curves into a bitter smile, and she laughed - an empty, hateful sound that echoed in the still air.

" So, the fearless Darshit Oberoi now hides behind his guards?", she taunted, her voice dropping with venom. "The man who doesn't fear anyone, reduced to cowering like a coward?"

Darshit didn't flinch. His eyes, cold and calculating, remained fixed on her. There was no surprise, no defensiveness - just an unnerving calm, as if he had expected this all along.

Kavita, shaken to her core by the woman's appearance, stepped forward, her voice soft and filled with concern. "Beta, who are you?, What happened to you?, Why are you in such a terrible state?"

The woman's head snapped toward Kavita, her fury finding a new target. Her voice, though trembling, was laced with bitterness, "Oh, you don't know, do you? Your son's crimes haven't reached your ears yet?"

Kavita froze, her maternal instinct flashing with a rising fear she couldn't ignore. Her lips parted, but no words came. Beside her, Shravan's face darkened, his composure crumbling as the weight of the situation sank in.

The woman's voice grew louder, fueled by a mix of agony and rage. Her finger pointed shakily at Darshit as her son's threatened to drown her words, "Your son!", she screamed, her voice breaking. " He's the reason for this...my husband's death! He killed him - the only man I ever loved in this world. And for what? For a business deal! A petty, disgusting deal!"

Her knees buckled as the weight of her grief overwhelmed her, but she steadied herself, refusing to collapse. Tears streamed down her face as she clutched at the air, her voice turning hoarse. "He was my world...my everything...and your son destroyed it all!"

Shravan and Kavita stood frozen, their hearts pounding as the accusations struck like a death knell. Their wide, fearful eyes darted toward Darshit, searching for any trace of denial, any sign of emotion.

But Darshit stood unmoving, his face a mask of indifference. There was no regret in his eyes, no flicker of guilt - just an eerie calm, as though the storm of accusations couldn't touch him. His silence, was deafening, his lack of reaction chilling, leaving an unspoken question hanging heavy in the air. Could it be true?

Darshit's silence only fueled the woman's rage further, yet she knew there was little she could do to break him. Her chest heaved with suppressed anger as she stepped closer, her voice low but sharp, slicing through the tension like a blade.

"I can't drag a filthy man like you to jail" she said, her tone trembling with hatred. "Because I know your power would pill you out in no time. But justice...my justice...will come from my God"

Her piercing gaze locked with his, her bitterness evident in every word. "I don't wish for any woman's life to be ruined by marrying a manwhore like you. But I pray", she hissed, leaning in slightly, " that fate plays a cruel game with you"

Her voice shifted, the venom in her tone growing sharper. "I pray you fall in love - not the fleeting, shallow love you're used to, Darshit Oberoi. No. I pray It's a love so deep, so consuming, that it becomes your obsession. That woman will become your possession, your world. You'll love her more than you've ever thought possible"

Her lips twisted into a sinister smile, and her voice darkened as though possessed by a vengeful spirit, "When she enters your life, she'll light it up, make you feel alive in a way you've never imagined. But then...", she paused, her grim widening, her eyes glittering with malice, " fate will tear her away from you"

Darshit's jaw tightened As her words slithered through the air, but she continued, undeterred. "She'll be yours and yet not yours. She'll become the reason for your every breath, but you'll lose her right before your eyes, just like I lost my husband"

Her voice cracked slightly, the weight of her pain pressing through, but the hatred never wavered. "And then, Darshit Oberoi", she whispered with an eerie calm, " you'll suffer every second of your life. You'll beg every temple, every mosque, for her love, her presence. But all you'll get is emptiness. The torment I endure today - I pray you endure it every single moment of your life. I want you to feel it in your bones, in your soul".

Her words carried such venom, such raw anger, it felt as though the very gods had spoken through her, issuing a divine