Author's POV is written by my co-writer.

The club buzzed with a tense energy, a sharp contrast to the soft jazz music playing in the background.

Cigarette smoke curled slowly toward the ceiling, blending with the dim light from the chandeliers, casting hazy glows around the heads of men who thrived in secrecy.

Abhijeet's presence in the room was magnetic, drawing everyone's attention as he leaned back in his leather chair, his eyes moving across the faces around him. Each of his movements was careful and deliberate-a man who knew real power wasn't about shouting but controlling the room silently. Right now, this room belonged to him.

The dealer, who had nervously commented on the bloodstain, lit a cigarette with trembling hands, trying to steady himself.

He knew better than to challenge Abhijeet, especially when the "King's" mood was as cold as the room itself.

The blood was a message-a reminder that even though Abhijeet usually kept his hands clean in the public but he wasn't afraid to get them dirty when needed.

Someone pushed a briefcase across the table to Abhijeet. The leather squeaked softly as it moved, and the men exchanged uneasy looks as it stopped in front of him.

This wasn't a normal deal. It wasn't illegal, but it was definitely risky. The negotiation was over land rights on the outskirts of Madhya Pradesh, a region rich in resources that could shift power between rival mafia groups.

Abhijeet wasn't here just to watch-he was here to control the outcome.

The head of the local gang, a heavyset man named Raghav, leaned forward and spoke in a low voice, "We've checked out the land. It's valuable. But it's not simple-local tribes and the government is watching. It won't be easy, Raja sa."

Abhijeet didn't flinch, his fingers tapping softly on the table.

"Complications are your problem, Raghav. I didn't come here to hear excuses. You get it done, or I'll find someone else who will."

His tone was calm, but there was a clear threat underneath.

Raghav shifted uncomfortably. No one wanted to cross Abhijeet. They'd all heard the stories-men who tried to cheat him or thought they could manipulate the "King of Madhya Pradesh." None of them were around to share their side of the story.

Abhijeet looked at the briefcase and then back at Raghav. "Open it."

With a soft click, the case opened, revealing stacks of neatly packed cash and documents about the land. Abhijeet ignored the money and focused on the papers.

It wasn't just land-it was influence, control, and power disguised as a simple deal.

His thumb brushed the corner of the paper, and for a moment, his mind drifted-to a night much darker than this one, a night that had changed his life forever.

He had been younger, inexperienced but not stupid. His sister's voice still haunted him, even after all these years. He had been too late. Too late to stop what had happened to her. The men responsible had run away into the night, leaving behind a broken girl and a shattered brother. That was the night he vowed to never be helpless again.

Abhijeet blinked, forcing the memory down. This wasn't the time or place for it.

Here, he was in control, and that's what mattered. He tossed the papers back into the briefcase and leaned back in his chair as the room fell silent, waiting for his decision.

"You want the land," he said softly, "then make sure it's your by the end of the week. No more delays. And don't come to me with problems. I solve problems-permanently. Got it?"

Raghav nodded, sweat forming on his forehead despite the chill. "Understood, Raja sa."

Abhijeet stood, towering over the table, and adjusted his jacket, signaling the end of the meeting. The men at the table shifted-some relaxing, others tense, unsure of what would happen next. His presence was like a storm cloud-calm on the outside but hiding a dangerous fury underneath.

As he walked toward the exit, a young messenger stepped forward-nervous, playing with his cap.

"King, the girl you saved... she's doing fine. Wanted to thank you."

For a moment, Abhijeet's gaze softened, though his face remained unreadable. He nodded curtly but didn't say a word, his mind already moving on to the next task, the next deal, the next challenge.

A king who wouldn't hesitate to stain his hands to protect the lives of others, even if it reminded him of the one person he couldn't save.

One of the dealers, a thin man with a sneaky grin, noticed the bloodstain on Abhijeet's collar. "That's not like you, King. Blood on your collar? What happened?"

Abhijeet's gaze shifted slightly toward him, his expression calm but dangerous. Without pausing, he lowered himself back into the leather seat, crossing his legs.

"Collateral damage," he said softly, his voice carrying a subtle menace that made the man's grin fade.

The truth? That blood wasn't his. Just hours earlier, as the sun dipped over the horizon, Abhijeet had come across a horrible scene. A young girl, no older than eighteen, had been dragged into an alley by a group of men. Their intentions were clear, and Abhijeet's blood had boiled with anger. Memories of his sister's screams flooded back, making his fists clench tight.

Without a second thought, he stormed into the alley, knocking the first man out with a single blow. The second tried to run, but Abhijeet caught him, slamming him against the wall. The rage he felt was cold and focused. With one punch, the man was unconscious. The third man begged for mercy, but Abhijeet showed none. Blood splattered as he delivered swift justice. In the end, the girl was safe.

Now, in the club, that memory lingered like a shadow, but Abhijeet stayed calm on the outside.

He leaned forward slightly, looking around at the gathered men. "Let's wrap this up."

Despite being involved in these dealings, there was nothing illegal about them.

Abhijeet was a king who had mastered the art of power, using these underground networks to keep his influence strong and stay ahead of the game. The dealers respected him, feared him. They knew he didn't need to show force to command authority-his presence was enough.

The dealer who had pointed out the blood couldn't shake off the feeling that there was more to the man in front of him. There was a darkness in Abhijeet's eyes, one that hinted at old wounds still fresh, still raw. But what none of them knew was that those wounds had been etched into his soul the day he failed to protect his sister. It was a day he never spoke of, but it was the day that turned him into the man he was today-a man who would never be powerless again.

My thoughts were interrupted as Dhruv, my personal assistant, spoke,"Raja sa, we must leave now. It's not safe for you to linger here any longer."

I nodded in agreement.

My men and I began to exit, but a petite girl suddenly collided with me, putting my guards on high alert.

She gazed up at me in awe, but something about her big doe light brown eyes felt unsettlingly familiar.

Her delicate features-a thin nose adorned with a small white nose pin, thick brows, and plush lips-coupled with her long, black, wavy hair cascading down to her waist, exuded an ethereal beauty.

The yellow dress adorned with Daffodil patterns only enhanced her charm. Daffodil.

I smiled inwardly.

I was so engrossed in her presence that, for a moment, I forgot who I was and where I stood.

Blinking twice, I quickly regained my composure.

Responding to her spoken admiration, I smirked and gestured for my men to lower their weapons.

"I'm not a Greek god. I'm the god of devils,"

"Now, step aside, miss. I don't have time to entertain your flattery."

I added coldly, lacing my words with arrogance.

I've encountered countless women, all desperate to ensnare me, but I despise such pursuits.

Neither lust nor love has ever held my interest.

As we moved past her, she suddenly grasped my wrist. Her touch-gentle yet firm-sent a wave of unexpected shivers across my skin.

I turned, only to see tears glistening in her eyes as she pleaded softly for me to take her home.

Annoyance surged through me, but before I could react, she fainted, and instinctively, I caught her before she hit the ground.

Cupping her face, I realized she was completely unconscious.

Lifting her effortlessly into my arms, I noted how perfectly she seemed to fit, as if she were crafted to belong there.

I was about to move when an inspector approached, bowing respectfully. "Raja sa, you must leave immediately. The government has issued an order to raid this club. It's been identified as a hub for illegal trafficking."

I responded in my usual icy tone, "We're already on our way out."

But he interjected, "Raja sa, your departure won't be problematic. However, the woman you're holding might become a topic of scandal by morning, as the media has already surrounded the club, and the royal vehicles have been captured on camera."

I clenched my jaw in irritation. Just what I needed-a perfect mess.

My immediate impulse was to drop her right there, but something inexplicably held me back.

Taking a deep breath, I suppressed my rising fury.

"Fine. We'll handle it. Don't worry," I stated firmly.

Dhruv and Rakshith immediately knew what had to be done.

I made my way to the club's exit, where our convoy was already lined up. As I slipped into my sleek, black Rolls Royce-emblazoned with the emblem of our royal lineage-I noticed the relentless flashing of cameras.

A lone reporter had managed to position himself on the club's terrace.

Just great, I thought sarcastically. The last thing I needed.

Settling into the plush leather seat with her still cradled in my arms, I contemplated placing her beside me.

But she clutched my shirt's collar tightly, nestling closer into the crook of my neck.

I exhaled deeply, closing my eyes.

I've never been this close to any woman before, and here she was-an enigma I knew nothing about-sleeping peacefully on my lap.

With a sigh of resignation, I raised the partition between the driver's seat and mine.

Carefully, I tried to pry her fingers off my collar, but she murmured sleepily, "Don't disturb me. Let me sleep. It's so peaceful."

She burrowed closer.

I surrendered, letting her rest. Strangely, she didn't unsettle me. In fact, her presence felt calming, almost as if she were the peace I'd never known.

But I couldn't trust such feelings. The most angelic faces often mask the darkest of souls.

Against my better judgment, my hand moved to her face, gently tucking a stray lock behind her ear.

Her hair was long-so long that it pooled around us, a silken black cascade draping over the car seats.

To be honest, she looked almost divine.

My reverie was broken as the car halted within the palace grounds.

I glanced outside at the sprawling estate-Home, or is it?-I wondered silently.

Exiting the car with her still in my arms, I felt the weight of many eyes on us as the royal guards bowed in respect.

Ignoring their curious stares, I strode into our private family wing of the palace.

The estate, with its hundred rooms, secret chambers, and ten grand halls, was a fortress of opulence. The family living quarters, however, were reserved solely for us-distinct from the halls meant for festivals, meetings, or coronations.

My mother appeared before me, a stern expression clouding her face.

"I won't ask who she is, but I hope this isn't one of your dealings. I can overlook anything, Abhi, but I won't stand for any wrong against a woman," she said with her usual commanding tone.

My father used to say I took after her, here was proof of it.

Without a word, I carried the girl to a chamber adjacent to mine, laying her gently on the bed.

Removing her heels, I tucked her in under a quilt.

I had no idea why I was doing this.

Gazing at her for a few moments, I murmured silently, "This is wrong. You're making the heart of a man, whose soul died the day he lost the only two women he ever cared about, beat again. But I have nothing to offer except pain."

Leaving her room, I glanced down at my shirt, now stained with blood. I needed a shower.

Upon entering my own room, I found Mother waiting, seated calmly on the bed. She stood as soon as she saw me.

"I'm sorry for doubting you earlier, but now I'm genuinely curious. Who is she?" she asked.

In a cold tone, I replied, "I don't know. We just met at the club tonight. She was asking for help, but before I could find out more, she fainted."

"What were you doing at the club?" she inquired, her voice tinged with suspicion.

"Business dealings," I replied curtly.

"You should watch the news. It's only been minutes since you arrived, yet the rumors are already spreading like wildfire. Every public move you make sparks chaos. You should've been more cautious," she stated gravely.

"What rumors?" I snapped.

"That you and the girl you brought home are involved, among other speculations I can't even articulate. Check it yourself when you have time," she said, leaving the room.

I closed my eyes in frustration. My cold demeanor hurts her, but I can't help it.

And now this girl-this uninvited disruption-is bound to wreak havoc on my already shattered life.