Prologue

This chapter contains mature themes like violence, sexual themes, and strong language. Reader's discretion is advised.

THIRD PERSON

Somewhere in Delhi-in a club.

Amidst smoke and intoxication haze, a man sat on a sofa in the VVIP section of a club. The club downstairs was buzzing with loud music and noise. People were enjoying and drinking, taking the pleasure of the strippers in front of them. Yes, it was a strip club.

In the centre of the club was a huge stage with dimly lit spotlights. It had poles on it, on which the strippers were dancing and showcasing their bodies. Each one of them wearing promiscuous lingerie, trying to seduce the men around the club.

But the room that he was sitting in was untouched by the chaos outside. His bluish-grey orbs were striking straight through the room-sized glass, looking at the people outside, and then at the strippers. His sick thoughts came rushing to his mind, which he immediately shrugged off. His left hand was resting lazily on his left thigh, holding a glass of whiskey in his right hand. The skull tattoo on his right hand was clearly visible. He took a sip from his glass, the liquid gushing down his throat as his big Adam's apple moved slowly, burning his throat. His muscular body was clearly visible from the all black suit that he was wearing. He looked at his black metallic Rolex. Time was ticking. It was clear that he was waiting for someone.

A little while later, another man entered the room with a stripper in his arms. He was a little drunk and was heavily flirting with the stripper, trying to kiss her neck again and again. Seeing the casualness of the situation, the man in the black suit shot up his piercing gaze to the drunk man. His eyes were bloodshot red with anger.

Before the drunk man could let the stripper go, the black suit man instantly got up and took out his gun, which was tucked at the hem of his waist behind. He pointed the gun straight below the drunk man's chin, causing him to lift his face up in fear and close his eyes. Everything happened in the blink of an eye; he was that quick. After all, he was trained to be like that.

The stripper, seeing the situation, could not help but scream in fear and tried to run outside the room. The black-suited man took her by her elbow and forced her to sit down on the couch. "Do not scream, and nothing will happen to you," he said, his voice dark yet calm.

The drunk man slowly opened his eyes and tried to take hold of the gun gently, "Are you out of your mind? You're going to kill me just because I was kissing the stripper?" he said. The black-suited man, slowly lowering his gun, said, "I don't care if you kiss or f'ck this stripper. But my time is more precious than your good-for-nothing life. I will not tolerate any delay when it comes to my work," he said, his voice heavy and laced with anger. His razor-sharp eyes were still tearing through the man.

"You thankless b'stard, you should be grateful that I've brought this information to you," he said, handing over a file to him. His demeanour shifted as he was no longer fueled with anger, but something more sinister. A smile crept upon his face slowly as his gaze shifted to the name on the file titled 'The Bedi house.'

This is it. This is what he was waiting for and preparing for his whole life. He slowly slides his thumb over the name and closes his eyes, the smile disappearing from his face, as if remembering something that hurt him.

He then released the drunk man from his firm grip. He nodded his head to him, signalling a thank you.

The drunk man, realising that now the situation is back to normal, said, "I will never understand why you are so adamant to go there, you have plenty of good contracts that will pay you in millions, not that you need the money, being the billionaire yourself, still, what will you gain from becoming an ordinary bodyguard at their house?"

The black-suited man, looking intensely at the file, said, "No one can understand how desperately I have waited for this moment. All my training, my efforts, were for this. The bodyguard might be ordinary, but the man behind it will be the worst nightmare for the Bedi family and their generations to come."

Hearing this, the other man shrugged his shoulders casually, saying, "No one will ever understand you, and what goes on in that sick mind of yours. Anyway, I've done my work here, but there is something you'll need to do first. Another man has been selected for this job. Do you dirty work and eliminate him from your path. My work is done here. Also, get your anger in check; otherwise, it will cause problems for you."

Saying this, he moved forward and picked up the stripper from her elbow, who was sitting there all this while, frightened to her wits. Her face had gone pale all this while. He pushed her a little toward the man in front of them, who was holding the file and scanning the pages. "Here, take her and cool down. Let out the heat trapped inside you. God knows you might kill the next person for as much as breathing a little loudly near you," the drunk man said.

Turning his head a little, he scanned the stripper from head to toe, which made her really uncomfortable. She thought she might die of fear if he even touched her. She started fidgeting, and it was evident that she was scared.

There was a change in the black-suited person's demeanor as he shifted his sharp gaze to the drunk man. "I would, but I do not mix business with pleasure." Saying this, he winked to the stripper, "Some other time, babe. Enjoy this b'stard for now," and came out of the room.

The stripper took a sigh of relief. "Huh, a man with zero morals, showing his morals in a strip club," said the drunk man, who was an informant. The other man to whom he had handed over the files was none other than Yuvraaj Singh Rana.