~Masks of the Day~
Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains of her relatives’ house. Aarvi stood silently at the kitchen counter, cooking while her aunt barked orders.
Sumitra Devi (FL aunt)
“Less salt in the curry, Aarvi!” *snapped*
Rhea Mehta (FL cousin)
“You’re still so useless,” *added, scrolling through her phone*
Rhea Mehta (FL cousin)
“Honestly, you should be grateful you even have a roof over your head.”
Aarvi Mehta (FL)
*stirred the pot without looking up* “Yes, Cousin.”
Aarvi Mehta (FL)
*her lips curled into a smirk no one could see* 💭Grateful? You’re living off my parents’ money, Rhea. Just wait two years… and you’ll be the one begging me for scraps.
After finishing the chores, she quietly slipped out, saying she was running an errand. Instead, she drove her black car to a part of the city where nobody recognized her as Aarvi—the unwanted relative. Here, she was Raven.
In her mansion, the rescued women and girls gathered around her.
Meera (10 years old)
“Didi, today I painted something for you!” *held up a crayon drawing of Aarvi with wings, standing like a guardian angel*
Sia (14 years old)
*the fiery one, teased* “See, Didi? Even Meera knows you’re a superhero!”
Aarvi Mehta (FL)
*knelt, hugging them both* “I’m no superhero,”
Aarvi Mehta (FL)
*whispered, kissing their heads* “I’m just someone who refuses to let the world win.”
The next morning, the glass towers of Malhotra Industries gleamed in the sun. Reyan, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, stepped out of his luxury car, cameras flashing instantly.
“Sir Reyan! Over here!” reporters shouted, clicking photographs.
He ignored them, walking into the building with the cold elegance of a king. Inside, his employees straightened in respect as he passed—whispers following him.
employee
“That’s him… the youngest tycoon in the country."
employee
“They say he built this empire from nothing."
employee
“No, they say he destroyed everyone who stood in his way…”
In the boardroom, his voice was calm yet commanding.
Reyan Malhotra (ML)
“Our competitors think they can cut deals behind my back. Shut them down. Not tomorrow—today.”
The directors nodded nervously. “Yes, Mr. Malhotra.”
By day, he was the sharp, ruthless businessman who dominated markets, crushed rivals, and expanded his empire across countries. Every deal he made was precise, calculated, unstoppable.
But by night, his suit was replaced with leather and shadows. The businessman became the Mafia King.
And after every mission, when the city slept, he ended up in his secret room of memories, speaking softly to the ghosts of his family.
Reyan Malhotra (ML)
“Another empire fell today, Baba,” he whispered to the photograph of his father. “But it still feels… empty.”
Both Aarvi and Reyan lived double lives—two faces for two worlds.
One treated as worthless in her house, yet worshiped as Raven in her mansion.
One celebrated as a tycoon in daylight, yet feared as the Mafia King at night.
Both carried loneliness like a second skin. Both longed, secretly, for someone who could see past the masks.
And neither knew that destiny was already aligning their paths.
Comments