Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – Private Skies and Hidden Deals

The sun was just beginning to rise when a sleek black private jet stood ready on the runway. Security guards in black suits lined the path as two men approached with quiet dominance—Kunal Rathore and Kartik Malhan.

Kunal walked ahead with his usual cold expression, eyes unreadable, suit perfectly tailored. Kartik followed beside him, tall and sharp, his gaze scanning everything out of habit. To the world, they were powerful businessmen. In reality, they were far more—mafia blood with corporate crowns.

Kartik spoke first, breaking the silence as they boarded the jet.

“So,” he said, settling into the leather seat across from Kunal, “you’re really getting married now? And to the daughter of the CEO of GOALS?”

Kunal didn’t look up immediately. He adjusted the cuffs of his black shirt before answering, calm and emotionless.

“Yes.”

Kartik raised a brow. “You’ve rejected marriage alliances from politicians, billionaires, and even foreign investors. What’s so special about this girl? Or is it just the company?”

Kunal leaned back, eyes fixed on the clouds outside the window as the jet doors closed.

“GOALS has what most companies don’t,” he said slowly.

“A pure image. No scandals. No corruption. No cheap publicity. People trust them blindly. Their skincare and beauty line dominates the Indian market. Their reputation is clean—and powerful.”

Kartik looked unconvinced. “You don’t need their image. Your company is already ruling five countries.”

Kunal’s voice remained calm, but there was a cold intelligence behind it.

“We’re expanding operations in India. And if we want to blend business with… our other work, we need a shield. The GOALS name gives us that.”

Kartik folded his arms. “So the marriage is for cover.”

“Partly,” Kunal admitted. “If people associate my company with theirs, no one will suspect what we do beneath the surface. Their popularity and loyalty will silence doubt.”

Kartik smirked lightly. “And the girl? Vidi Yadav. You’ve never seen her, never spoken to her. You don’t even know her personality.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kunal said flatly. “The wedding is a formality. All I need is the alliance. She’ll stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of hers.”

Kartik chuckled lowly. “Cold as always, Rathore.”

The jet engines roared to life, and the aircraft began rolling down the runway.

Kunal’s eyes remained calm, but something unreadable flickered in them.

“There were many proposals. But most were stained by greed or bad reputation. GOALS has neither. Their name will protect ours. And with our influence, their company will never face threats.”

Kartik’s voice softened just a little. “So it's mutual benefit.”

“Yes,” Kunal replied. “Business for us. Security for them. And if we ever need to move something illegal through their supply chains or transportation routes, no one will suspect a company known for fairness and beauty.”

Kartik tilted his head. “And the girl doesn’t know the truth.”

“She doesn’t need to,” Kunal said. “She’ll get what she wants—her company’s future. I’ll get what I want—power in silence.”

The jet lifted off the ground, cutting through the sky with force and elegance.

Kartik glanced over at his friend, a hint of curiosity in his tone.

“And if she refuses you? If she’s not the quiet type?”

Kunal’s lips curved into a faint, dangerous smirk.

“She won’t refuse. Her family already accepted. And if she does try to walk away…” his eyes darkened, “she’ll learn that I don’t lose anything—or anyone—that belongs to me.”

Kartik gave a low whistle. “Possessive already?”

Kunal didn’t answer. He simply closed his eyes and spoke one last line before silence took over the cabin:

“In India, we won’t just expand business. We’ll own the ground we walk on.”

The sky swallowed the jet as it disappeared into the clouds—taking two devils home.

---

The private jet touched down smoothly in Delhi, its engines cutting through the morning calm. Dark luxury SUVs waited silently at the private exit, lined with men who didn’t blink without orders.

Kunal stepped out first, his tall frame and dark sunglasses making him seem untouchable under the harsh sun. Kartik followed, expression unreadable, hands tucked into his blazer pockets.

Kartik’s voice broke the silence, flat and controlled.

“Separate convoys?”

Kunal didn’t look at him. “Yes. Our mansions aren’t far from each other. You handle your responsibilities. I’ll take care of the documents.”

Kartik’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Understood.”

Without another word, they both approached their respective SUVs. The convoys moved silently, as if the world around them didn’t exist.

---

Kartik’s Mansion

Kartik’s mansion was a fortress—modern, sharp-edged, black glass reflecting the morning sun. Guards in suits flanked the entrance, motionless. The gates opened without a word as his SUV glided inside.

He stepped out, tall and rigid, scanning the compound with calculating eyes. Inside, everything was precise, controlled, as if disorder would be a crime.

His right-hand man approached, cautious. “Sir, all port and warehouse operations have been cleared for inspection.”

Kartik nodded slightly, voice calm but cold. “Maintain surveillance on all entry points. And monitor Rathore’s movements closely.”

“Yes, sir.”

He didn’t move from the center of the hall until his man left. Then, slowly, Kartik walked to the balcony, looking down over the city. His face was unreadable, his mind already running through strategies and contingencies.

A marriage alliance for Kunal… and yet, every detail must be watched. Nothing can be left to chance.

He lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply. Smoke curled around his cold, sharp features. “Everything must follow the plan,” he murmured, voice low, controlled, without emotion.

---

Kunal’s Mansion

Twenty minutes away, Kunal’s convoy arrived at his mansion—an imposing white marble fortress with high walls and manicured gardens. Guards bowed slightly as he stepped out.

Inside, his butler handed him a tablet. “Sir, the documents for the court marriage have arrived. The family has agreed to all confidentiality terms.”

Kunal didn’t react immediately. He removed his sunglasses slowly, his gaze scanning the mansion like a predator analyzing territory. “Prepare the lawyer for tomorrow. Ensure security is doubled—no leaks, no interruptions.”

“Yes, sir.”

He walked through the wide corridor, each step deliberate. Marble floors echoed under his polished shoes. The mansion was silent except for his controlled movements—an empire of power and strategy, untouched by emotion.

A marriage arranged in secrecy. A bride he had never met. A deal binding two powerful worlds together.

He stopped near the window, looking out over the garden, eyes cold and calculating.

“India begins now,” he said softly.

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