CHAPTER 2
SIYA
The RK Estate is spread along the hillside in layered tiers. We’ve just left the main glass building, the heart of the property, in a buggy after checking in for my cottage. It’s the one place that never really rests with guests constantly moving in and out.
The buggy rolls softly as it carries us up a winding stone road.
We pass through several guest cottages tucked away amongst the pine trees.
Below, a few guests stroll along the stone pathways, while another buggy glides past us in the opposite direction, ferrying a couple back towards the main lobby.
Esha sits in front beside the driver and occasionally turns back to point things out.
“We like to keep the estate nice and easy to walk around,” she explains with a smile. “But guests can call for a buggy anytime they want to move between the lobby, the cottages, or the vineyards.”
The road curves again, taking us higher as more of the estate comes into view.
As we round a bend, something catches my attention.
At the very top of the mountain ridge, towering above the entire estate like it owns the sky itself, stands a massive villa built in dark wood and glass.
Its wide balconies open out over the valley, giving a clear view of everything below.
Esha notices where I’m looking.
“That’s Mr. Kundra’s private residence,” she says politely.
I nod. The buggy continues forward. To one side, a long steel barricade stretches along the edge where the trees begin. Beyond it, the land thickens into dense forest. Tall pines crowd together so tightly that the ground beneath is almost impossible to see.
“That area is restricted,” Esha explains. “It gets unsafe after dark. Wolves and other animals are known to wander down sometimes, so the gates stay locked at night.”
Interesting.
The buggy finally slows as we turn onto a narrower path lined with stone lanterns. Ahead of us, is a secluded cottage where the buggy comes to a smooth stop.
“This is your cottage, Miss Vardhaan,” Esha says as the driver switches off the engine.
Michael, my bodyguard, steps out first and scans the surroundings before I step down from the buggy. I walk behind Esha up the short stone pathway leading to the cottage door. She pushes it open and walks inside ahead of me.
“This is called the Princess Suite. Our finest cottage in the resort. It’s perfect for your stay,” she says with pride.
My gaze sweeps over the cosy suite, done in soft tones that speak of quiet luxury. Gold accents catch the light, polished wood adds depth, and a canopy bed sits at the centre. Silk curtains flutter gently as the cold mountain breeze slips through the room. It’s perfect.
Esha moves into the living area and opens the tall glass doors leading to the private balcony.
“Let me show you the best part of this suite,” she says with a smile.
The curtains sway aside as she gestures for me to step out onto the veranda. From here, the estate cascades down the mountainside in distinct tiers, each one positioned below the other.
“This section is the upper guest level,” Esha explains, her hand sweeping across the landscape. “Each cottage here is a private suite. And yours has the best view of the valley.”
I rest my palms against the cool stone railing and look down. Cottages stretch across the slope below, tucked between pines, their roofs peeking through the trees as if they’ve grown into the hillside itself.
My gaze drifts lower down the mountain.
The middle level of the estate spreads into a wide terrace where the main resort building sits. Warm light spills through its large glass windows as guests move through the lobby.
“That’s the reception area where you checked in,” Esha says. “Guests usually gather there for dinners, wine tastings, and evening events.”
Beyond it, the land dips further, opening into long rows of vineyards that run down the valley in neat, endless lines.
And further down, near the lowest terrace, a circular training arena comes into view. I can see a horse moving across the sand in controlled, powerful strides, its rider guiding it with finesse. Just beyond it stands a long wooden stable, stretching along the edge.
“That’s our horse training arena and stables,” Esha says. “But that’s restricted property. That area isn’t open to guests.”
Michael follows us inside the cottage, his eyes sweeping every corner, checking for any hidden exits. I ignore him and focus on Esha instead, who prattles on about extensions and services.
“If you need anything at all, Miss Vardhaan, dial #210 and I’ll be here immediately to assist.”
“I’ll remember that,” I reply, smiling.
As soon as she leaves, Michael steps forward and hands me his phone. I snatch it from him, realising ‘he’ is on the line, and press it to my ear.
“I’ve reached,” I snap. “And you don’t need to check on me every damn hour when your men are already feeding you updates every minute. So, relax. Let. Me. Breathe.”
I hang up without waiting for a reply and shove the phone back into Michael’s hand. His expression doesn’t change. He’s used to both my temper and my commands.
“Since this is a cottage suite,” he says calmly, “a guard will be stationed outside the front entrance. Not right at the door, but close enough to monitor the ins and outs. The rest of the team is positioned around the property gates and along the main road.”
I lean casually against the bedpost, listening.
“You won’t be going anywhere without security,” he continues. “If you want to go to the lobby, the vineyard, or anywhere else on the estate, you call for the buggy, and we accompany you.”
He looks around briefly before continuing.
“We’re also integrating with RK Estate’s CCTV system. I’ll personally be monitoring the cameras. So don’t try anything clever.”
My lips twitch. Try your luck.
“Get out, Michael.” I dismiss him with a flick of my hand.
He hesitates but then walks out. The door clicks shut behind him, and as silence settles over the suite, I turn the lock myself.
I’m finally alone.
The journey from Cape Town to India had been long enough to drain, even with the brief halt in Dubai to refuel. My body craves sleep, but first, I need a hot shower.
I step into the bedroom, my fingers reaching instinctively for the little annoyances first. The earrings come off, followed by my bracelet. Then I reach back and pull the zipper of my red dress down. It slips off, pooling at my feet, leaving me in nothing but red silk lingerie.
That’s when I see it.
The large RK logo etched above the bathroom mirror.
His initials. His world. His empire.
It’s engraved in almost every corner of this suite.
But the one above the bathroom mirror… it stands out.
Like it’s mocking me. Like it has eyes of its own, tracing over every inch of my bare skin.
I snatch a tissue from the side, then walk out and pick up the glue tube from the stationery tray, and spread it over the tissue.
“I know this is your world,” I murmur as I reach the bathroom and press the glued tissue firmly over the mirror, covering the RK logo. “But no one gets to follow me into my shower.”
Only then, I strip off the lingerie and turn on the shower.
Within minutes, the steam begins to rise, and I allow myself to relax.
It’s been a long time since I’ve known this kind of relief.
Nine months of waiting and starving for the taste of freedom again.
Though this isn’t the freedom I once dreamt of, it still feels like something I can finally breathe in.
The moment I stepped into Shivtara Valley, I knew I’d already broken free from half the chains that once held me back. Fifty percent of my troubles are now behind me. And the rest isn’t too far now.
RAGHAV
Four hours later
I’m standing by the tall glass window of my cabin, my gaze fixed on the garden beyond. The cabin is a cottage turned into an office, set a little away from the main reception area. It is my private space from where I run the workings of the RK Estate.
Outside, the Vardhaan men in their dark suits are mapping this place for exits and cover, for vantage points and chokeholds.
They’re spread out like hunters: one is watching the driveway, another is checking the staff entrances, while two of them are scanning and monitoring staff movement, planning who protects their princess, who watches over her, and who shadows the rest. The sight of them on my grounds grates on my nerves.
Earlier, in the lobby, they had watched me the way trained security personnel watches any unfamiliar male standing too close to their principal. But none of them looked at me twice or with suspicion. They didn’t recognise me. They never would.
Even in the past, I was never the face that moved across the borders, shaking hands and sealing deals.
That was Tej Khurana. My father liked visibility.
I preferred the shadows. Even when I executed rival men, it was in the darkness where vision blurs.
CCTV cameras only captured bits and pieces.
Low angles, grainy footage, a shadow stepping forward…
and then the sound of a gunshot. And if at all my face reached rival clans, it was never clear.
Just blurred images and whispered descriptions.
Two and a half years is a long time in the underworld.
Long enough for fear to turn into folklore.
Long enough for a face to fade. My body has changed since then.
It’s become broader, harder. My hair is shorter.
And most importantly, I’m here as Raghav Kundra, not the heir to a dead empire. They see exactly what I want them see.
A vineyard owner.