CHAPTER 44
SAMARJEET VARDHAAN
Two hours back (Cape Town, South Africa)
“I killed my father, Shamsher Vardhaan.”
The revelation freezes both men sitting across from me at the table.
Parag Reddy stops midway through lifting his glass of whiskey, while Singhal’s fingers still around the cigar he was about to light.
Neither man blinks. They just stare at me as though waiting for me to laugh and tell them it was all a joke.
I don’t.
I lean back in my chair and take a slow sip of whiskey, letting the silence stretch between us. Men like us build empires on murder. Each man sitting in this room has blood on his hands. But what shocks them is the fact that I didn’t kill an enemy. I killed my own father.
“You planned your own father’s brutal assassination?” fifty-five-year-old Hemant Singhal finally asks as he lights his cigar.
“You heard me,” I reply coldly.
Their disbelief turns into shock.
“But why?” Parag asks, setting his glass down. “Do you realise you broke the oldest law of our mafia world? We don’t kill our kin unless they are traitors. It’s a law every mafia family swears to uphold, and you broke it willingly?”
“I don’t give a f*ck about that law.” I slam my fist on the table between us. “And I don’t give a f*ck about my kin either.”
The room falls silent again. Parag and Singhal stare at the madness in my eyes before exchanging a wary glance.
“I killed Shamsher Vardhaan because he deserved to die.”
The name alone is enough to stir years of resentment inside me. I can still hear his voice. Still see the disappointment in his eyes. Still remember how he looked right through me, as if I was never enough.
I was the heir to the Vardhaan empire. The son of Shamsher Vardhaan. Yet everything in that house revolved around her.
I rise from the table, walk towards the large glass wall overlooking Cape Town, and stare at the city spread out beneath me. There are thousands of lights, thousands of people, and thousands of men willing to kill for power. And I’m one of them.
“He was my father,” I begin. “He was supposed to groom me to be his successor. He was supposed to hand me the empire one day, but instead, he spent half his life making me prove that I deserved it.” A humourless smile touches my lips.
“Every operation I completed, every territory I expanded, every rival I crushed… and still, nothing changed. He continued to look at me as though I was a reckless child who wasn’t ready for any of it. ”
I take another sip of whiskey before turning around. “And then there was Siya. Always the centre of everything. My father’s biggest weakness.”
Neither of the men looks away.
“My father loved her. My mother adored her. The Vardhaan men respected her. From the moment he brought Siya into our family, she became the apple of his eye, while I was pushed further and further into the background.” My fingers tighten around the glass.
“Everything always revolved around her. It was always Siya’s comfort, Siya’s choice of vacation, Siya’s happiness… Siya, Siya, Siya… My foot.”
I hurl the glass onto the floor. It shatters instantly, whiskey splashing across the floor as the sound echoes through the room.
“She wasn’t even his real daughter,” I mutter, staring at the shards of glass.
“I was his son, the one who was supposed to inherit everything. And yet, somehow, Siya always mattered more to him. My own father behaved like she was his only responsibility, as though she was the true heir to his empire... not me. A girl with no Vardhaan blood was treated like royalty, while the son carrying the family name was treated like a disappointment.”
The memory makes my jaw clench, reminding me of how years of that poison eventually turned into something fatal.
“What?” Parag interrupts, completely shocked. “Siya? She… she isn’t a Vardhaan?”
I walk back towards the table. Parag’s eyes follow me as I stop directly across from him. Planting both palms on the table, I lean forward slightly.
“No. She isn’t.” I seethe. “That b*tch is adopted.”
I can see the disbelief spreading across Parag’s face and can almost hear the calculations beginning behind his eyes.
But that is the one truth I’ve been carrying like venom in my veins all these years, only because my father forbade me from ever speaking it aloud.
After his death, I could have thrown Siya out of the Vardhaan Mansion without a second thought.
But why waste an opportunity when Siya could still be useful to me?
She was my key to the Reddys and, through them, the entire Southern mafia.
Parag was already captivated by her, which meant half the work had been done for me before I even opened my mouth.
So I offered her hand in marriage. In return, I wanted access, influence, and business.
A share of the Southern corridor for my drug operations.
It was a simple transaction. The Reddys gained a beautiful bride.
I gained an empire that stretched further south.
At least, that was the plan before the Dark Prince decided to steal my bargaining chip and turn the entire underworld upside down.
The horror I see on Parag and Singhal’s faces after learning the truth is nothing compared to the horror I’ve lived with for the last two decades.
“How could you?” Parag growls, half-rising from his chair. “How the f*ck could you keep something like that from me? Siya doesn’t even have Vardhaan blood, and you still tried to marry her off to me?”
As soon as the words leave his mouth, I grab the gun lying on the table and point it straight at his forehead. Parag goes still, and so does Singhal. Nobody moves. Nobody breathes.
I take a step forward. “Sit the f*ck down, Parag.”
He does.
“Now, decide what the f*ck matters more to you?” I press the barrel harder against his forehead. “Her bloodline, or the beauty you’ve been obsessing over ever since you first laid eyes on her.”
His jaw hardens, but I don’t lower the weapon yet.
“I don’t give a damn anymore whether you marry her or not. That stopped being my concern the moment Raghav walked into my house and took her away.”
My eyes narrow as I hold his gaze. “What I care about is whether you’re still with me. Whether you still want revenge.” I tilt my head slightly. “Whether you still want to make Raghav pay for humiliating you and shooting you.”
The mention of Raghav changes everything. I see the anger blaze in Parag’s eyes as his fingers curl into fists.
“If I didn’t want the Dark Prince dead, I wouldn’t be sitting in this room.”
Exactly what I expected.
“Mafia bloodline or not, I don’t give a f*ck anymore.” Parag slowly pushes the barrel of the gun away from his forehead. “I want Siya back. She was promised to me. And no f*cking man gets to keep what belongs to me. Not even the Dark Prince.”
“Siya will be yours.” I give Parag a curt nod.
“The moment Raghav dies, she’ll be left with no shield, no protector, no one standing between her and the consequences of her choices.
She’s poisoned my life for twenty f*cking years.
Every privilege that should have been mine was handed to her.
So no, I don’t want her back. Take that b*tch with you.
She’s your problem after that. Use her, torture her, kill her, I don’t care. ”
I lean back in my chair, and the tension in Singhal’s shoulders finally loosens. He exhales a slow stream of smoke and studies me through narrowed eyes.
“So that’s it?” he asks quietly. “You murdered your own father because you were insecure about a girl who wasn’t even his blood?”
“I wasn’t insecure about her,” I seethe, turning towards Singhal.
“Siya was never the real problem. My father was. He chose her. He chose to rule the empire until his last breath. He chose everything except me. So I made a choice too. I stopped seeing him as my father. And the day I did...” My fingers curl into fists.
“…was the day he became nothing more than another obstacle in my path.”
Parag and Singhal exchange another uneasy glance.
“Three years ago, I finally confronted my father and demanded what was rightfully mine. But the slap he gave me in front of all my men... that humiliation was something I didn’t deserve.
Even now, the memory burns inside me. That arrogant look on his face when he told me I was still incapable of handling the business on my own still haunts me.
He said I still hadn’t earned the right to run the empire alone.
That I wasn’t ready. That I still wasn’t worthy enough to lead this empire the way he did. ”
My eyes meet Singhal’s. “That was the day I realised something. Power is never given. It is taken. And I would snatch it from the man who was ruling what should have been mine. That very night, I started planning his assassination. And when the time was right, I took his life.”
I can see the fear in their eyes. I know what they are thinking. A man who could kill his own father cannot be trusted with anybody’s life.
And they’re right. Anything and anyone who stands against me will meet the same fate as Shamsher Vardhaan. Death.
“You’re worse than people think,” Parag says, shaking his head.
That’s true.
For the first time that night, even Singhal looks uncomfortable. And I enjoy every second of it. Neither of them speaks for several moments as the tension fills the room… until Singhal breaks it.
“Fine.” Singhal leans back in his chair, his expression unreadable. “You got what you wanted. The empire. The throne. The power. So why the hell are you telling us all this now?”
I hold his gaze before turning away and walking towards the bar counter. Pouring myself another drink, I watch the amber liquid settle in the glass before I pick it up and return to the table.
“Because from this moment onwards,” I say, swirling the whiskey once, “the rules have changed.”
The room falls silent again.