4
Today, I'm meeting the Choudhurys.
Honestly, I wasn't interested.
I never am when it comes to social performances disguised as strategy talks. But this one... this one I couldn't skip. They're my biggest rivals-the only ones who match my power, my presence, my fear.
And I hate that.
Hate how their name carries the same weight as mine.
Hate that they're untouchable, just like me.
But still... I admire them.
Their unity. Their ferocity.
Their loyalty to blood.
Things I lost long ago.
But more than all of them combined, I knew she would come.
Katha Choudhury.
My Katha.
I don't know when I started calling her that in my head.
Maybe the first time I saw her walk out of the court, sharp in black, carrying a snow leopard cub like it was nothing.
Maybe when I watched her from afar, tearing corrupt leaders apart with just words.
Maybe when I realized she was the only person whose silence could match mine.
And now... I knew it. If I rattled the Choudhurys enough, they'd come to confront me.
And if they came-she would too.
Of course she would. She never misses the storm.
So, yes, I caused problems. I stirred waters I didn't need to. I lit fires with precision.
Because I knew it would bring her to me.
And today... it worked.
I am the happiest man alive right now.
But no one will ever know.
Not my staff. Not Ojhal.
Not the world.
Not even her.
Because I am Dattatriya Agnivanshi.
And I feel nothing.
Not even for the woman I want more than peace.
Just then, Ojhal entered the room-sharp as always, but a little more cautious than usual. His eyes flicked to mine, reading my still face as he cleared his throat.
"They're here," he said simply.
"The Choudhurys."
I didn't move. Just stared ahead, seated like a stone idol in my chair, draped in my usual black kurta, shawl resting across one shoulder. The silence stretched, heavy and absolute, until Ojhal spoke again.
"All of them."
I knew. Of course all of them would come.
Sahadev Choudhury, the ex-boss.
Bhairava, the one who thinks he can intimidate me.
Gyan and Dyan, always ready to start a war.
Utsav, the youngest, probably hacking the cameras as we speak.
But I was waiting for only one.
I stood slowly, adjusting my shawl. "Send them in."
Ojhal hesitated, then added under his breath, "She's with them."
My fingers twitched, barely noticeable.
Katha.
I could already picture it.
She'd walk in like she owned the damn earth. Black jeans, maybe a simple kurti or shirt, no effort-but all eyes on her. That snow leopard cub, Sheraa, probably clinging to her hip like he was royalty. And her eyes... sharp, unreadable, like mine.
I said nothing, just turned my back to Ojhal and walked toward the long conference room, where the Choudhury storm was about to enter.
I never showed emotions.
Not to anyone.
But inside, I already knew...
This meeting is mine. Because she's here.
As expected, the Choudhurys entered in all their terrifying, glorious presence.
Sahadev Choudhury led the way, head held high, his eyes sharp with age-old experience.
Behind him came the three storms-Bhairava, rigid with silent authority, Gyan, eyes already scanning the room for weak spots, and Dyan, jaw clenched like he was seconds away from starting a war just for fun.
Utsav trailed behind, phone in hand, probably hacking into my security system just to be dramatic.
They brought tension with them. Like gods descending into enemy territory.
And then...
she came.
Katha.
My Katha.
She walked in like a sin I couldn't afford and a prayer I would never deserve.
Wearing a sleek, form-fitting maroon dress that stopped just above her knees. Her long, dark hair was loosely tied in a lazy ponytail, and her heels echoed like a beat I didn't know I had memorized.
In her arms sat Sheraa, her four-month-old snow leopard cub, curled up like a smug little prince who knew exactly how powerful his mama was. He looked around with those glinting blue eyes, completely unbothered by the tension in the room.
But I didn't see any of that.
All I saw... was her.
And I couldn't take my eyes off her.
Not her fierce gaze.
Not the slight smirk tugging at her lips when she caught me staring.
Not the way she walked like she owned this entire goddamn state-even though she didn't. Not yet.
She took her seat without waiting for anyone to guide her, Sheraa still curled lazily on her lap. Her brothers flanked her like guards around a queen.
And I?
I sat still. Mask on.
Emotionless. As always.
But inside...
I was ruined.
The silence in the room was thick. Electric.
Ojhal stood by the door like a shadow, ready in case this turned bloody-which, with the Choudhurys involved, it always might.
I sat across from them, fingers laced, my face blank.
Bhairava leaned forward, his voice low and sharp. "You've been cutting into our port lines in Gujarat. That was ours."
I didn't blink. "It became available."
"Available to you?" Gyan snapped. "You bribed four of our lower men and had one killed."
"Loyalty is expensive," I replied calmly. "If they were loyal, they wouldn't have sold out."
"You think you can push into our trade routes and lecture us about loyalty?" Bhairava growled, slamming a file down in front of me. "This is war, Agnivanshi."
My gaze didn't shift. "Not war. Expansion."
"That's the problem with you," Dyan barked, rising from his seat, fire in his eyes. "You think you own the damn world."
I glanced at him once, bored. "I already own half. I'm just collecting the rest."
That was it.
Dyan launched forward, fists clenched, his fury exploding like always.
"DYAN BHAIYA!" Katha's voice snapped through the air like a whip.
She moved faster than anyone else, placing Sheraa gently on her chair before she grabbed Dyan by his arm and yanked him back, surprising even him.
Her grip was strong. Deadly. And her face-furious.
"Bhaiya, sit down," she growled, eyes blazing. "We came to talk, not to show off testosterone levels."
"He-" Dyan started.
"I said sit," Katha hissed, dragging him back into the chair.
He obeyed-reluctantly, but he obeyed.
No one argued with Katha when she used that tone.
Not even her brothers.
She turned to me then, her face cold, calculating. "We'll settle this. But not by barking. Let's talk like the civilized monsters we are."
For the first time since the meeting began, I let a ghost of a smirk tug at the edge of my lips.
There she was.
My Katha.
Queen of Fire.
And the only person in this room dangerous enough to tame demons.
She looked at me - eyes sharp, posture rigid, voice cold enough to freeze blood.
"What do you want, Mr. Agnivanshi?"
Her tone was like glass - clean, sharp, and unforgiving.
"Let's settle this in a civil manner. No more games."
I should've responded with equal precision.
Should've kept it clean.
Professional.
Neutral.
But all I could think about was her lips saying my name like it was poison.
Her fire.
Her command.
You.
I almost said it.
The word clawed its way up my throat - you, I want you, Katha... only you.
But I swallowed it down like venom.
That truth wasn't meant for this table.
Instead, I leaned back in my chair, voice low. Controlled.
"I want partnership."
She blinked once.
"In what?" she asked, tone sharper now.
"In your mafia," I replied, eyes steady on hers. "I offer fifty percent stakes of mine in return."
The room went dead silent.
Bhairava's eyes narrowed. "You want in on our syndicate?"
"Yes."
"Why would we trust you?" Gyan scoffed.
"I don't need your trust," I said plainly. "I need balance. I give you access to my territories, my operations, and in return, I want a stake in yours. We stop competing. We expand-together."
Katha's jaw tightened. Her mind was racing; I could tell. Calculating.
Behind the storm in her eyes was strategy.
Behind her coldness, curiosity.
She leaned back slightly, arms crossed, and said nothing.
I knew what she was thinking.
The same thing I was.
This isn't just business.
Not with us.
Never with us.
Katha finally turned her face, those fierce eyes of hers shifting to her eldest brother.
Bhairava met her gaze.
And that was all it took.
Not a word.
Not a gesture.
Just one look.
He understood.
He gave a short nod, then looked straight at me.
"Fine," he said, voice like thunder restrained. "We'll accept the partnership. But there will be a contract. Written. Signed. No loopholes."
"I expected nothing less," I replied, calm as ever, though my pulse... wasn't.
I watched them all rise-the infamous Choudhury Syndicate in motion. Each a storm, a shadow, a fire. But my eyes were only on her.
Katha.
She scooped up Sheraa, who had been glaring at me with more attitude than a full-grown tiger.
The little snow leopard growled at me with a soft grrrr, his fur puffed up, tail swishing aggressively.
I raised an eyebrow, amused. "Your cub hates me."
Katha didn't even glance in my direction as she held Sheraa back gently, her hand stroking his head until the leopard purred, melting into her arms.
I couldn't look away.
The way she handled him.
The way she stood.
The way she existed.
And as they all turned to leave, her long ponytail swinging, heels clicking, Sheraa now calmly nestled against her shoulder...
I leaned back into my chair.
Silent. Still.
But the only thought running through my mind was-
I want to hold you.
I want to lock you in my mansion, where no one can reach you.
Where you're only mine.
But I didn't move. Didn't speak.
Just watched her walk away again, like she always did-
taking all the light in the room with her.
The moment the Choudhurys left, so did I.
I didn't wait for Ojhal, didn't acknowledge anyone - just got in my car and drove straight to my mansion.
The silence of the hallways welcomed me like an old friend.
But tonight... it was too loud.
Too empty.
Too hollow.
I moved through the house like a shadow and reached the far end - behind the bookshelf, down the narrow staircase, past a steel door.
My fingers typed the code automatically.
Click.
The lock opened.
I stepped inside.
My secret room.
Only I knew of it.
Only I entered it.
I flicked on the lights.
And as the bulbs buzzed to life, so did the world I never let anyone see.
The walls - covered.
Canvas after canvas.
Sketches. Paintings. Portraits.
Some full-color, some pencil-lined.
Some soft, others etched with obsession.
But they all had one thing in common -
Her.
Katha Choudhury.
In every angle. Every light.
Smirking. Cold. Laughing. Glaring.
In court, at press meets, sitting with Sheraa, yelling at her brothers.
Even one... with her sleeping in her father's lap, Sheraa curled beside her.
I walked slowly to the largest painting in the center.
The first one I ever made.
Katha in black - her courtroom outfit, lips pressed, hair tied high, fire in her gaze that could burn empires.
My hand lifted, brushing the edge of the frame.
"My Katha," I murmured, the only time I ever said her name like that - only here, only to the walls.
"I'll get you.
Not by force.
Not by power.
But by fate itself."
I looked around at the hundred faces of her I had memorized.
She was everywhere.
Everywhere in me.
And she had no idea.
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