The Game Begins

Dhruv stepped out of the sleek, black sedan that had picked him up earlier that day. The smell of freshly waxed leather still lingered in the air, mixing with the crisp scent of the afternoon breeze. He stood for a moment, staring at the mansion before him—his mansion. It was larger than anything he had ever imagined living in. Set atop a hill, with a sprawling driveway and towering gates, the building screamed opulence and power. This was no longer the life of Dhruv Sharma, the modest guy who couldn’t afford lavish gifts for his girlfriend.

No, this was the life of Dhruv Singh, billionaire heir.

He could still barely believe it, even though Mr. Mehta had reassured him time and again that it was real. The mansion, the cars, the businesses, and the bank accounts—all of it was his now.

Taking a deep breath, he walked up the steps and into the grand foyer, where his new house staff greeted him with courteous bows. He felt out of place, like he was stepping into someone else’s shoes. But then he remembered Jasmine’s betrayal, and Kartik’s smug face, and a sense of purpose reignited within him. This wasn’t just about wealth anymore. This was about power. The power to get back at everyone who had wronged him.

“Mr. Sharma,” a voice called out, snapping Dhruv from his thoughts.

He turned to see Aman standing near the entrance, his expression a mix of awe and confusion. They had been best friends since childhood, and while Aman had always been supportive, this was all new to him as well.

“I still can’t believe you’re living in this,” Aman said, gesturing around the grand hall. “Dude, this place is insane.”

Dhruv smirked. “Yeah, it’s a bit overwhelming. But it’s time to get used to it.”

Aman nodded, but his brow furrowed. “Listen, I’ve got that info you asked for. About Kartik.”

Dhruv’s smirk faded, replaced by a hard, determined expression. “Good. Let’s go to my office.”

---

The “office” in Dhruv’s mansion was more of a luxury suite, with dark mahogany furniture, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a view of the city skyline in the distance. Aman laid a folder on the desk, opening it to reveal a collection of papers, screenshots, and photos.

“Kartik’s family is wealthy, sure, but they’re not as bulletproof as they seem,” Aman began, flipping through the pages. “They’ve got a lot of shady business dealings—some illegal investments, bribery scandals, tax evasion. All of it has been swept under the rug by his dad’s connections.”

Dhruv leaned forward, his eyes scanning the details. Kartik’s father had built his empire on lies and corruption. It was exactly what Dhruv needed—leverage. He knew Kartik wasn’t just going to roll over because Dhruv was rich now, but with the right pressure, he could bring Kartik down.

“This is perfect,” Dhruv muttered, his mind already racing with ideas. “We’ll start leaking this information bit by bit. Hit him where it hurts.”

Aman raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about this, Dhruv? I get that you’re angry, but this could get messy. Kartik’s family isn’t going to just sit back if you come for them.”

Dhruv stood up, pacing across the room. He could feel the fire in his veins, the anger bubbling just beneath the surface. Kartik had humiliated him, taken Jasmine from him like she was some prize to be won. But now, Dhruv had the upper hand.

“This isn’t just about getting even,” Dhruv said, his voice cold and controlled. “This is about showing Kartik that he can’t treat people like garbage. I’m not the same person I was before. And neither is he, once I’m through with him.”

Aman sighed but nodded. “Alright, man. Just be careful. This could backfire.”

Dhruv gave him a tight smile. “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”

---

Later that night, Dhruv sat in his private study, going over more documents from his father’s empire. It still felt surreal, but he had already started adjusting to his new life. And while the temptation to dive headfirst into the wealth was strong, his mind kept circling back to Jasmine.

He hadn’t spoken to her since the revelation of her betrayal. She had tried calling a few times, but Dhruv had ignored every attempt. Now, sitting in his father’s mansion, surrounded by the luxury he had always thought was out of his reach, Dhruv couldn’t help but wonder what Jasmine would think of this new version of him. Would she regret choosing Kartik over him if she knew who he really was now?

As if on cue, his phone buzzed again. It was a message from Jasmine.

“Dhruv, I know you’re upset, but can we talk? I didn’t mean for things to happen like this. I miss you.”

Dhruv stared at the screen, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. She misses me now, he thought. Now that she’s seen what she’s lost. The irony wasn’t lost on him. Before all this, before the money, Jasmine had chosen Kartik, a man who had nothing but arrogance and wealth to offer. And now, Dhruv was the one with the wealth. The tables had turned.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, tempted to respond with a cold, cutting message. He could rub it in her face, make her feel the sting of regret. But then he stopped. Why waste time on Jasmine now? She wasn’t worth it.

Instead, Dhruv typed:

“There’s nothing to talk about. We’re done.”

And hit send.

As soon as the message went through, Dhruv felt a strange sense of relief. It wasn’t as satisfying as he had imagined, but it was closure. He had said what he needed to say, and now he could focus on the future—his future.

But as Dhruv closed his phone, his thoughts wandered back to Kartik. Jasmine might have been part of the reason for Dhruv’s anger, but Kartik had always been the real target. Now, with the information Aman had gathered, Dhruv had the means to destroy Kartik’s image, his reputation, and everything he held dear.

It was time to start the game.

---

The following morning, Dhruv called Mr. Mehta. “I need you to set up a meeting with some media contacts. I have some information they’ll find very interesting.”

Mr. Mehta, always composed, didn’t ask questions. “Consider it done, Mr. Sharma.”

As Dhruv ended the call, he looked out at the city skyline. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a golden glow over the horizon. A new day had begun, and with it, a new chapter of his life.

The first move had been made, and Dhruv was ready to play.

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