A Game Begins

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.