📖 Story Basics

🎭 Genre:

•Dark Romance

•Mafia

•Forced Marriage

•Drama

•Emotional Growth

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🧍‍♀️Main Characters (Editable)

🔹 Aarohi Mehta - 21 years old

Fierce, smart, middle-class girl from Delhi

Dreams of becoming a doctor

Forced into a marriage with a mafia don for her family's protection



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🏠 The Mehta Family - Graceful Outside, Guarded Within

💠 1. Pranav Mehta (Father)

Age: 54

Profession: Renowned businessman, owns a chain of pharmaceutical and logistics companies

Personality: Calm, intelligent, deeply protective

Public Image: Respected, generous, and low-profile

True Side: Behind the warmth is a man hiding decades of secrets, hidden enemies, and debts that never truly died

Bond with Aarohi: She's his princess, his soft spot, and possibly the only person who sees the cracks in his controlled mask

> "I built this world for you, Aarohi. I just never wanted you to see its darkness."

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💠 2. Dr. Vaidehi Mehta (Mother)

Age: 50

Profession: Retired pediatrician, now runs a women's clinic from home

Personality: Strong-willed, spiritual, loving but emotionally guarded. she chose silence for her family's safety

Bond with Aarohi: They clash often-both headstrong women-but love runs deep. Vaidehi worries that Aarohi's fire might attract old enemies.

> "You carry my strength, beta. But learn where to burn and where to heal."

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💠 3. Advik Mehta (Brother)

Age: 26

Profession: Software engineer, works abroad

Personality: Witty, sarcastic, very protective

Relationship with Aarohi: Constant bickering, constant love. He teases her endlessly but would cross oceans to protect her. He suspects something's wrong with their father but stays away-by choice or by fear.

> "You're the only doctor I trust to stitch me up if I ever get broken. Emotionally, I mean. Physically-I'll go to literally anyone else."

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💠 4. Dadi (Savitri Mehta)

Age: 78

Role: The silent observer with eyes that miss nothing

Personality: Sharp, traditional, emotionally intuitive

Secrets: Knows more about Pranav's past than anyone lets on. Speaks in riddles. Possibly the one who first warned Aarohi-subtly-that life isn't as simple as it seems.

> "Sometimes, princesses are married off to monsters. Not because they are weak. But because only they have the power to tame them."

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Coco - a golden retriever Aarohi treats like her baby. Offers comic relief and comfort during her most chaotic moments.

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🧡 Aarohi's Best Friend

Name: Reet Khurana

Age: 27

Profession: Final year MD in psychiatry

Personality:

Witty, emotionally intelligent, loyal

Blunt when needed but deeply empathetic

Reads people like open books, but hides her own past like a locked vault

Role in Aarohi's Life:

Reet is the one person Aarohi never has to explain herself to. They've been best friends since 1st year MBBS-Aarohi is the chaos, Reet is the calm.

Reet grounds her during breakdowns, hypes her up during fights, and isn't afraid to call her out when she's being unreasonable.

Tagline:

> "You may be the fire, Aaru... but even the fire needs someone to carry the water."

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🖤 Aarav Malhotra's Mafia Family Tree - The House of Shadows

💣 Aarav Malhotra (The Anti-Hero / Don-in-Waiting)

Age: 30

Current Role: Operational head of the Malhotra Syndicate

Known For: Silent rage, calculated cruelty, and ice-cold loyalty to family

Cold, powerful Mafia heir from Mumbai

Ruthless to enemies and unapologetically ruthless

Darkness: Never hesitates to kill-but doesn't believe in hurting women or innocents

Unknown Truth: He was supposed to leave this world once. But something (or someone) dragged him back



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🕴️ 1. Veer Malhotra (Father) - "The King"

Age: 58

The original don, semi-retired but still feared

Built the empire through blood and betrayal

Cold, ruthless, and disappointed in softness-especially in Aarav's lingering humanity

> "Power isn't inherited. It's stolen. Every. Single. Time."

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👩‍🦱 2. Devika Malhotra (Mother) - "The Ice Queen"

Age: 54

Elegant, silent, and terrifying in her control

Handles the syndicate's finances and international ties

Once from a royal political family, she married Veer for power, not love

Doesn't approve of love-it's a weakness in her eyes

> "Women are not queens in this world, Aarav. They are shields-or they are liabilities."

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🔫 3. Kabir Malhotra (Younger Brother - The Trigger)

Age: 26

Reckless, violent, unpredictable

Thinks Aarav is too "soft" and wants control of the syndicate.

> "Why rule from the shadows when we can set the world on fire?"

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🧠 4. Uncle - Rajat Malhotra (The Strategist)

Veer's younger brother

Works as the legal & political fixer of the family

Speaks rarely, but when he does-people listen

May be playing both sides between Aarav and Kabir

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🐍 5. The Rival Gang - The Oberois

Once allies, now enemies

Want to destroy the Malhotras using Aarav's one weakness: Aarohi

Will enter the story with betrayal, spying, and forced alliance proposals

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yuvaan khan

Arava's best friend or only real brother

Age 30

profession:- Underground fixer,arms dealer, hacker

Arava's second in command

Vibe : witty disrespectful in charming ways. The only person who can insult Arav and not die for it.

He is lethal with a knife, deadliest with his words.

A very warm welcome to everyone. This is my very first book that I have ever tried writing. Please read it and support me throughout the journey of this book.

I will be very grateful to you all people.

Please like and tell me about how you like my story.

English is not my first language so please forgive me for mistakes.

Thank you very much

By author.

The hospital corridor smelled like Dettol, coffee, and crushed dreams.

Aarohi Mehta kicked open the gynecology ward doors like she owned the place, her stethoscope dangling around her neck like a trophy and her badge slightly tilted—intentionally. Confidence wasn't just her style; it was her armor.

“Emergency in Labor Room 2,” a nurse called out as she passed.

Aarohi didn’t pause. “On my way. Tell the intern to prep the patient and not to faint this time.”

She flashed a smile, sugar-coated with sarcasm, and strode forward—her curly ponytail bouncing behind her like she was in a shampoo ad, not in a government hospital barely functioning on overworked residents and leaky ceilings.

It was 7:32 AM. She had already been up for two hours, survived one post-partum hemorrhage, two hours of shouting from Dr. Rakhi (a.k.a. Toxic Rakhi), and half a cup of disgusting hostel tea.

Dr. Rakhi Gupta was her unit senior—a living, breathing warning against letting power get to your head. The woman had a voice sharper than a scalpel and the empathy of a stone.

“Dr. Mehta!” Rakhi snapped the moment Aarohi entered the labor room. “Where were you? You’re two minutes late for morning rounds.”

Aarohi didn’t flinch. She simply pulled on her gloves and raised one brow. “Two minutes late, but the baby didn’t wait, ma’am. Delivered it while you were screaming at Sharma for writing ‘overdue’ as one word instead of two.”

Even the junior resident behind Rakhi choked back a laugh. Rakhi, however, glared as if she could murder Aarohi with her pupils.

“You think you’re clever?” she hissed.

Aarohi gave her a dazzling smile. “Not really. I know I am.”

Outside the labor room, Aarohi’s gang was waiting.

There was Simran, her co-resident and caffeine soulmate; Tanya, the calm, sarcastic type who looked like a quiet nerd but had a savage tongue when provoked; and Rishi, the only guy in their squad who understood periods better than most boyfriends.

“Survived Dracarys again?” Rishi asked, handing her a protein bar.

“She tried to roast me,” Aarohi replied, tearing it open, “but I’m flameproof, baby.”

Despite the madness, the hospital was her kingdom. Aarohi had a magic touch in labor rooms—firm hands, sharp mind, soft words. Patients loved her. Nurses adored her. Even the cranky HOD, Dr. Chopra, had once muttered that she was “a reckless genius but gifted nonetheless.”

Between deliveries, Aarohi texted her mom.

> Good morning, Amma. Tell Papa I’m skipping lunch again. Emergency duty.

The reply came instantly.

> Beta, don’t skip meals. Papa will worry. Also, no news of that rishta. They cancelled last minute again. Papa seemed relieved.

Aarohi sighed, thumb hovering over the screen. Marriage talk was like acid reflux—kept coming up at the worst times.

> No worries. Rishta-shishta can wait. I’ve got placentas to pull.

She added a winking emoji and slid the phone into her coat.

🌒 Back at Home

Mehta House, an old but posh bungalow tucked in South Delhi, was warm and chaotic. Her mom, Dr. Vaidehi Mehta, was a retired pediatrician and full-time overthinker. Her father, Mr. Pranav Mehta, was a high-profile businessman with eyes that smiled less these days.

To Aarohi, he was still Papa—the man who taught her how to ride a bike, sneak chocolates into the hostel, and always believed she could run the world in heels and a lab coat.

But lately, he’d been… different.

His calls came late at night. He had long meetings, security upgrades, and new “business partners” she’d never heard of. And sometimes, when he looked at her, there was a flash of something like guilt.

She didn’t question it. Yet.

That night, Aarohi sat on the balcony with Simran, legs dangling off the ledge, sipping stolen hostel cold coffee.

“I swear Rakhi’s soul is 98% ego and 2% magnesium,” Simran muttered.

“She’s got a personality deficiency,” Aarohi replied. “Needs supplements for basic decency.”

Simran laughed. “You’re gonna get us all kicked out.”

Aarohi smirked. “No one kicks out sunshine, babe. They need me.”

But as she looked up at the stars—bright but distant—something inside her shifted. Like the calm before a storm.

Her phone buzzed again. Unknown number.

> Aarohi Mehta. Your father owes a debt. You’re the payment.

She stared at the screen, the coffee suddenly bitter on her tongue.

End of Chapter 1

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The ballroom at the Oberoi shimmered in gold and guilt. Rich people clinked glasses of vintage wine over charity for hospitals they’d never step into. Smiles were painted, conversations polished, and every compliment came with an expiration date.

Dr. Aarohi Mehta walked in like she didn’t belong—because she didn’t.

But she made sure they knew she didn’t care.

Draped in a wine-red saree with a daring slit and confidence that could blind the weak, she looked like sin dipped in sunlight. Her silver heels clicked with rhythmic sass as she adjusted her stethoscope pendant—worn more like a weapon than an accessory.

“Try not to kill anyone tonight,” Reet Khurana muttered beside her, rolling her eyes and fixing her own classy black gown.

“No promises,” Aarohi replied. “But if someone deserves a tongue-lashing, I’ll at least be poetic about it.”

Reet sighed. “How are you this hot and this terrifying?”

“Genetics and trauma.”

Across the room, Aarav Malhotra had just entered.

Clad in a sleek black suit, no tie, top buttons undone, he walked like the devil had personally gifted him the ground. Security guards kept a subtle circle around him—none too obvious, all too trained.

His eyes scanned the crowd with professional boredom. The gala was a business move—he was laundering money through “donations,” smoothing over dirty deals with clean names.

“Try to smile once,” Yuvaan Khan, his right-hand man, whispered, sipping whiskey. “You look like you’re about to shoot the violinist.”

“I don’t shoot people in public,” Aarav replied. “It ruins carpets.”

“You’re a whole cartoon villain sometimes, bro.”

“I’m worse.”

Yuvaan snorted. “Great. Just try not to traumatize the donors.”

✨ The Encounter

Meanwhile, Aarohi found herself cornered near the drinks counter by none other than Dr. Rakhi Gupta, who looked like she had bathed in bitterness and Chanel.

“I must say, Aarohi,” Rakhi cooed with a syrupy tone, “you clean up nicely. But remember, no matter how good you look, brains only get you so far. In this field, you survive by knowing your place.”

Aarohi smiled sweetly. Deadly.

“Ma’am, you’re absolutely right,” she said, sipping her mocktail. “But I prefer being known for my skill, not my silence.”

A few heads turned. Rakhi's eye twitched.

And that’s when he heard her.

Aarav paused mid-step, his drink halfway to his lips. He turned, curiosity piqued.

Then he saw her.

Not just another pretty face.

A fire. Walking. Talking. Untouchable.

Their eyes met. Aarohi saw a man with shadows stitched into his skin. Cold. Calculated. Watching her like she was a puzzle he had to solve.

He stepped forward.

“Harsh advice,” he said to Rakhi, voice smooth but blade-sharp. “I’ve heard better things from corpses.”

Rakhi turned, flustered. “Excuse me—who are you to interfere?”

Before he could speak, Aarohi interjected.

“And you are?” she asked the stranger, her gaze unwavering.

Aarav smiled faintly. “The man funding your hospital’s new surgical wing.”

Reet, watching from a distance, whispered, “Oh god, she’s gonna kill him.”

Aarohi arched a brow. “Is that supposed to impress me or scare me?”

“Neither,” Aarav replied. “But it’s true.”

She tilted her head. “You don’t look like a doctor.”

“And you don’t look like someone who takes orders.”

“That’s because I don’t.”

Rakhi tried to interrupt, but no one was listening anymore. Power had already shifted.

Yuvaan leaned toward Aarav and muttered, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“No,” Aarav murmured, eyes still on her. “Worse. A challenge.”

Reet caught up to Aarohi as she walked away, heels loud, expression unreadable.

“Did you just sass a millionaire guy?”

“I sass everyone,” Aarohi replied.

“You do realize who that was, right?”

“I do now. Still not impressed.”

Yuvaan nudged Aarav with a smirk. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“She’s dangerous,” Aarav muttered.

“Exactly your type.”

Aarav didn’t reply. He simply watched the girl in red disappear into the crowd like a flame slipping through cracks.

Something had just shifted in his world.

And it started with a woman who didn’t flinch.

End of Chapter 2

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