VISHWA

"How could you be so careless?"

My father growls, his expression tight with fury - probably concern, though I doubt it.

"At least give-"

A phone call cuts him off. He glances at the screen before stepping out to the balcony to answer it. I don't even have to guess who it is.

His mistress.

Just thinking about that woman leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

Today is an unusual day. It's been four years since I moved into this flat, and this is the first time my father has ever visited. But I'm not pleased by his presence. Worse, he barges in with a foul mood, and I don't even know why.

His presence feels like a plague.

He is the reason I moved out of the house that held so many bittersweet memories of my mother. My mother was a coward because he made her one. She committed suicide by hanging in front of me. The horror is still vivid in my mind. I still can't forget her wide, lifeless eyes, and it takes a full bottle of spirits for me to fall asleep.

Till then the suffocating smell of death is the only familiar thing in my life.

My gaze drifts to the wall clock.

Four in the morning.

I run a hand through my hair in frustration. The hangover is hitting hard. All I want is proper sleep, but this old fucker barged into my flat out of nowhere and robbed me of my privacy.

"These fucking flies."

He returns to the living room, cursing.

"Look what you've done. The media has already started swarming around your building."

I frown.

"Media? Why?"

"Don't you know why?" He crosses his arms over his chest.

"A regular employee saw you kill two people, and now the fucker is going to testify against you in court."

His eyes shine with anger, and somehow my demons are satisfied watching him lose his shit.

"You'll end up in prison," he adds.

"So that's why you're here, disturbing my sleep?" I tilt my head.

I let out a slow sigh.

"My men will take care of it. There's no need for you to worry."

His brows knit together, deepening the wrinkles on his forehead.

"The media has already spread the news. The value of my company's shares is dropping. The CEO is you. How could you be so irresponsible?"

If I didn't know him better, I might think he was worried about me. But he's a money-sucking parasite. All he cares about is his business and his mistresses.

I push myself off the couch and walk toward the balcony. I'm not interested in discussing my problems with this man.

A cold gust of wind greets me as I slide the glass door open. From my third-floor flat, I can see a crowd of media gathered below.

The moment they notice me, cameras flash.

Makes sense.

Right now, I'm gossip.

According to Forbes, I'm the youngest billionaire and most eligible bachelor.

Only I know the truth.

This eligible bachelor is nothing more than a notorious sociopath in the darker corners of the universe.

I wave at them and give them the same genuine false smile everyone loves.

A perfect ruse.

A lie that convinces the world I'm capable of love.

Love is a foreign subject to me.

I only know possession.

"Brother, how did this happen?"

My brother's voice pulls me back. I turn to face him, my lips twisting into a sneer.

"You got the news too?"

"Is that even a question? Of course I did. You won't go to prison. I brought Nikhil with me. You know he's the best at what he does."

His words carry genuine concern and silent loyalty.

My brother Aniket has grown into a fine man - fair skin, neatly groomed black curls, and a strong, healthy build.

We are like earth and sky.

I am dark and opaque like a moonless night, while he is clear and translucent like water.

"I'm fine with prison. The thought is exciting."

I chuckle.

"You should start working clean, man. This case is almost impossible. The police have a witness against you."

Nikhil speaks from behind us. I tilt my head slightly to look at him.

"I pay you millions to keep me safe. Do your job - or I'll kick you out."

"Much better," he says dryly. "At least I don't have to deal with your crazy temper."

"I cannot believe this. You still have time to joke. The police are on their way. I want a backup plan to protect the company from potential damage."

Father's irritated voice cuts in.

"Dad, this is not the time to think about the company. Brother is my first priority," Aniket argues.

I raise my hand, signaling him to stop.

A warning.

If they want to fight, they can get the hell out of my flat. I'm not interested in family drama.

And I value my peace.

My patience thins when the old man pushes further.

"The reason you're going to prison is because you're incompetent. I can't let my life's work be ruined by you."

That's it.

I look at him.

Just a glance.

The kind that makes people piss themselves.

"Relax, old man. Don't lose your shit."

My voice drops low - dangerous.

I've been patient enough this morning.

He wants me to talk.

But the only time I talk honestly is when I kill someone.

When I turn their lives into hell.

When my finely sharpened knife tears through their skin.

I find peace in their agony.

"Y...You b-"

His voice cracks.

He must have seen the devil inside my eyes.

"Me what?" I growl.

I step closer, staring straight into his eyes.

My way of telling him:

He may be evil -

but I am not evil.

I am the devil who gave mankind the ability to invent the word evil.

"Brother... Dad... please."

Aniket steps between us, trying to ease the suffocating tension.

"As I said, it was my negligence. I'll take care of it."

I walk past my petrified father.

Then stop.

And turn back.

"I am the CEO of Crown Empire too. You shouldn't worry so much about the company's affairs, Dad."

Salt in the wound.

But not entirely untrue.

I am the one who does the dirty work for the corporation.

I am the one who handled the i

llegal dealings behind the curtain.

For Crown Empire, I have shed blood - and bled.

The company he shamelessly claims as his own was built on the blood of the victims I slaughtered.