The World of Devika

The bass from the club vibrated through the floor, pulsing with the reckless energy of the night. Smoke curled in the air, expensive liquor flowed like water, and laughter echoed against the dimly lit walls. Devika sat in the middle of it all, yet apart from it. The ice in her glass melted untouched, her thoughts elsewhere as her friends drowned in their privilege.

"Did you hear about that guy?" Rishi leaned in, his voice laced with amusement. "That restaurant owner near the old market. The guy hands over money every time my uncle’s men go to collect. No questions, no complaints. Just pays up like a coward."

Aayan scoffed. "Spineless. If he has no guts, why does he even run a business in this city?"

Devika remained silent, barely interested. These stories were nothing new—her father controlled Bhopal’s underworld with an iron grip. People who wanted to survive knew their place.

“We should check it out,” Rhea suggested, her lips curling into a smirk. “See what kind of man bends without a fight.”

Devika sighed. She wasn’t in the mood for their games. But then again, when was she ever?

---

The World of Rudra

The bell above the entrance chimed, and Rudra looked up. He recognized them immediately.

They entered like they owned the place—loud, arrogant, disrupting the peaceful hum of the restaurant. Eyes that never had to lower in submission. Entitled. Dangerous. A problem.

Behind the counter, Rudra’s grip on the glass tightened. But his face remained unreadable. He had spent years perfecting restraint.

Karan, his closest friend, tensed beside him. "This isn’t good."

"Let them be," Rudra said calmly.

Karan turned to him in disbelief. "They’re not here to eat, Rudra. They’re here to remind you of your place."

Rudra’s gaze flickered to Devika. She wasn’t like the rest. She was watching. Observing.

And for the briefest second, their eyes met.

A flicker of curiosity flashed in hers, but it was gone before he could catch it. Devika turned away, laughing at something Rhea whispered in her ear. Like he was just another nameless face in the city her father ruled.

But she would know him.

Not today. Not tomorrow. But soon.

Rudra exhaled slowly, masking the storm that brewed beneath his calm demeanor. She was part of their world—the world he had sworn to avoid. Yet, here she was, unknowingly stepping into his space, disrupting the silence he had built for himself.

Karan muttered under his breath, “They’re getting too comfortable.”

Across the restaurant, Devika’s friends were getting louder. Rishi knocked over a chair, laughing. Aayan whistled at one of the waitresses, making a crude remark. The discomfort in the air was thick, but Rudra didn’t move.

Not yet.

He turned his back on them, picking up an empty glass and polishing it slowly.

"Let them," he said, his voice eerily calm.

Karan clenched his jaw but said nothing.

As the minutes stretched, the atmosphere in the restaurant shifted. Other customers were growing uneasy, some quietly finishing their meals and leaving. Devika noticed it too—the way the staff was tense, the way no one dared to interfere.

And then, for reasons she couldn’t explain, her gaze drifted back to him.

Rudra Rathore.

She didn’t know his name. Didn’t know his story. But there was something unsettling about him. He wasn’t afraid. Not of her, not of her friends, and certainly not of the power her father wielded over this city.

He was different.

A strange feeling settled in her chest, but she ignored it. It didn’t matter. He was just another commoner, running a business at her father’s mercy.

With a flick of her wrist, she tossed a few bills onto the table and stood up.

“Let’s go,” she said.

Her friends groaned in protest, but she didn’t care. Something about this place felt off. And for once, she didn’t want to be here anymore.

As they stepped out into the night, the restaurant door swinging shut behind them, Rudra finally looked up.

And for the first time that evening, he allowed a smirk to ghost his lips.

She left untouched. But that wouldn’t be the case the next time.

Because whether she knew it or not, Devika had already stepped into the storm.

The night air was heavy as Devika’s car pulled into the long driveway of her family’s mansion. The towering iron gates shut behind her, sealing her inside the world she had always known—a world of power, fear, and unspoken rules.

Inside, her father sat in his study, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the polished desk. He didn’t look up as she entered.

“You’re late.” His voice was calm, but the weight behind it was unmistakable.

“I was with friends,” Devika replied, keeping her tone even.

A pause. Then, “I heard about the incident at the restaurant.”

Her stomach twisted, but she forced herself to remain composed. Of course, he already knew.

“It was nothing serious,” she said. “Just a small fight.”

Her father finally met her gaze. His eyes—cold, unreadable—studied her for a moment.

“Small fights lead to big problems,” he said. “I don’t like problems.”

She nodded, knowing better than to argue.

A slow smirk played on his lips. “Don’t worry. That restaurant won’t be a problem anymore.”

Her fingers curled into a fist. She had expected this. Then why did it feel different this time?

Before she could respond, her father waved his hand dismissively. “Go get some rest.”

The conversation was over. In his world, words were final.

But in Devika’s world, for the first time, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to follow the rules anymore.

---

Rudra’s phone buzzed.

Karan’s voice was tense. “We have a problem.”

Rudra didn’t ask—he already knew.

“How bad?”

Karan sighed. “Bad enough. Devika’s father has given the order. Your restaurant won’t last the week.”

Rudra closed his eyes for a moment, his jaw tightening. So it had begun.

He had spent years avoiding this kind of war, keeping his head down, pretending to be just another businessman.

But some battles came to you whether you wanted them or not.

And this time, he wasn’t sure he could walk away.

---

Devika lay awake, staring at the ceiling of her lavish bedroom.

Her father’s words echoed in her mind. She had grown up watching him handle problems—ruthlessly, efficiently. But this time, she couldn’t shake the unease creeping into her thoughts.

Rudra’s face flashed before her. The way he had stood his ground. The way he hadn’t cowered like the others.

Why did that bother her?

She wasn’t supposed to care. She wasn’t supposed to hesitate.

But for the first time in her life, she did.

She turned to her phone, her fingers hovering over the screen. She had an urge to search for something—maybe about the restaurant, maybe about him.

She shook her head. What was she even thinking?

Just then, a knock echoed at her door.

She sat up, frowning. It was past midnight.

“Who is it?” she called out.

A pause. Then a voice—calm, but firm.

“You should stop thinking about him, Devika. Before it’s too late.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

She rushed to open the door, but the hallway was empty. Only silence remained.

And for the first time, fear crept into her world in a way she had never felt before.

The night was colder than usual, but Rudra barely felt it. He stood outside the wreckage of his restaurant, his hands clenched into fists. The once-lively place was now nothing but shattered glass, broken furniture, and the faint smell of smoke.

Karan stood beside him, his face dark with anger. “They didn’t just destroy it, Rudra… they made a statement.”

Rudra’s jaw tightened. He had tried to live in peace, to stay away from his family’s legacy. But some ghosts refused to stay buried.

This wasn’t just about a restaurant anymore. They had taken the lives of his staff—people who had nothing to do with this war.

And for that, someone had to pay.

---

Devika sat in her university library, staring at the pages of her book without reading a single word.

Her friends were laughing at another table, but her mind was elsewhere. She had heard about the attack.

No one dared to mention it openly, but she knew her father’s reach extended to every corner of the city. She had seen it happen before—businesses destroyed, people ruined—but this time, she felt something she had never felt before. Guilt.

She hated the feeling. She wasn’t supposed to care.

But Rudra’s face from that night at the restaurant haunted her. The way he had held back. The way he had chosen silence over violence.

And now, that silence had been shattered.

---

Rudra ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. His mind was racing, emotions battling between rage and control.

A soft beep from his phone snapped him out of his thoughts. A message. An unknown number.

"This was just the beginning. Walk away while you still can."

He stared at the screen.

A threat? A warning?

Either way, it was too late. He had already made his choice.

---

Devika scrolled through her messages, hesitating before opening her father’s latest text.

"Stay away from the restaurant incident. It doesn’t concern you."

She swallowed hard. But it did concern her.

Because no matter how much she tried to deny it, something about this felt different.

And she wasn’t sure if she was ready for what came next.

---

That night, Rudra didn’t sleep.

He stood on the rooftop of his apartment, the city stretching before him. Bhopal was a battlefield, whether he liked it or not.

He wasn’t afraid of fighting back. He had been raised in a world where power and strategy were everything. But he had spent years pretending to be someone else, believing he could escape the blood that ran in his veins.

Tonight proved otherwise.

Karan walked up beside him. “What’s the plan?”

Rudra’s gaze remained on the city below. “We rebuild.”

“And after that?”

Rudra’s fingers tightened around the railing. "After that, we remind them who they just made an enemy of."

---

Devika paced in her room, restless.

She had thought about messaging her father—asking him why, asking him if it was necessary.

But she already knew the answer. In his world, there was no place for questions.

Her father had always told her: "Power isn’t given, Devika. It’s taken."

She had grown up believing that. But tonight, for the first time, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to be part of this game anymore.

And yet, she was already trapped in it.