Mumbai

A dense forest. This forest was so vast and dangerous that the people living outside had no idea about the illegal activities happening deep inside it.

In the middle of that terrifying jungle, a few men dressed in black clothes stood in a circle. At the center of them, a man was kneeling on the ground.

There was a dagger in his hand, and in front of him, another man lay on the ground in a half-dead condition.

The man holding the dagger was carving some kind of design into the injured man’s hands with the blade.

The man lying on the ground begged for mercy, screaming for his life. Looking at the dagger-wielding man, he cried,

“Please forgive me. I made a mistake. I got greedy. Please forgive me.”

The man with the dagger glared at him and said,

“You’re screaming so loudly that my eardrums are about to burst.”

As he spoke, he continued carving another design into the man’s hand with the dagger.

The man lying on the ground had almost no life left in him. There was hardly any chance of survival anymore.

The man tightened his grip on the dagger, completed the design, and said,

“You know, I care deeply about every man who works with me. I cared about you too… until you betrayed me.

You stole the project file and sold it to my business rival.

I hate traitors and liars the most. That’s why I give them the worst possible death.

You thought I wouldn’t be able to catch you because you considered me just an ordinary businessman. But what you didn’t know is that I’m a mafia king. And messing with me means inviting your own death. Expecting forgiveness from me is stupidity because that word doesn’t even exist in my dictionary.”

Hearing his words, the man on the ground started trembling violently.

The man with the dagger continued,

“The whole world knows me as a successful businessman. But only a few people know that I’m mafia. I’m just as good a businessman as I am a dangerous mafia king.

And I have one habit — if I like something, I’ll play any game to obtain it. If I want something, then it belongs to me. Otherwise, it belongs to no one.”

The injured man folded his hands and pleaded desperately,

“Please, sir… please don’t kill me. I have small children.”

But the man replied coldly,

“You should’ve thought about that before betraying me.”

Then he let out a filthy laugh and added,

“By the way, I’ve seen your wife. She’s pretty good for entertainment.”

The man stood up from his place and yawned lazily.

“I’m getting bored now.”

The very next second, a sharp strike landed on the man’s throat, and his lifeless body collapsed there instantly.

The dagger-wielding man looked at him without any emotion on his face. The dead man’s body was drenched in blood. Even his fingers and toes were barely recognizable anymore.

The man gestured toward another person and said,

“Clean this place quickly. I hate filth.”

Saying that, he wiped his hands with a handkerchief and walked away.

The name of the man who had just carried out this horrifying act was Dastaan Ahuja.

6 feet tall. Fair skin. Black eyes. A diamond stud in one ear.

A scorpion tattoo on his neck.

The first three buttons of his shirt were open, revealing his muscular body. His sleeves were folded up to his elbows, exposing the devil tattoo on his arm. With an aura powerful enough to make anyone fall for him at first glance, Dastaan was a man with extremely dangerous intentions.

It was impossible to tell what was going on inside his mind just by looking at his face. Dastaan ranked number one among Mumbai’s top ten businessmen.

Dastaan’s entire family was connected to the mafia and the underworld. Ever since childhood, he had known what he was destined to become. His training had started under his father when he was only six years old.

Murder, kidnapping, gambling, and illegal dealings — Dastaan had been trained in all of it since childhood.

He had learned only one thing growing up: if you don’t use people, they’ll use you instead.

That’s why Dastaan chose to become the king rather than a pawn.

Dastaan was only a good person for his family and an obedient son.

But no one else could expect kindness from him. Anyone who dared to point a finger at Dastaan had their hand torn off from the root.

At present, Dastaan ruled the entire underworld. No one dared to disobey him.

And whoever gathered the courage to do so never lived to see the next sunrise.

At that moment, Dastaan was at his private villa — Devil Mansion.

He walked straight into his room and turned on the shower the moment he entered the bathroom.

As the water flowed down his body, he slowly removed his clothes.

The blood covering his body washed away with the water. His muscular frame, broad chest, and six-pack abs became visible.

Several tattoos, both large and small, covered his body, hiding countless scars underneath them.

Dastaan felt no shame about his scars. To him, they were proof of his strength.

Wearing only a towel, Dastaan stepped out of the bathroom when the phone on the table started ringing.

He looked at the screen and saw that it was a call from his assistant, Raaz.

Raaz… Dastaan’s most trusted man and childhood friend. He was the only person allowed to call Dastaan by his name, and only because Dastaan had given him permission.

After answering the call, Dastaan learned that they had an important meeting scheduled at a hotel today.

He quickly got dressed and headed toward the location Raaz had sent him.

Whenever Dastaan went for his legal business dealings, he always went alone. He never took bodyguards or security with him there. In those places, he appeared like an ordinary businessman, just like everyone else.

When Dastaan reached the hotel entrance, Raaz was already waiting for him.

As soon as he arrived, Raaz said,

“Come on, hurry up. All the investors are already here. We’re the only ones late.”

Before Dastaan could say anything, Raaz grabbed his hand and dragged him inside the hotel.

Dastaan entered a private room with Raaz, where several people were already sitting and talking.

The moment Dastaan walked in, everyone stood up and greeted him with handshakes. Soon, the business discussions began.

After an hour-long meeting, Dastaan’s company finally closed the deal.

Just then, the room door opened, and a waitress entered carrying a tray of drinks. She was wearing an extremely short skirt.

The upper buttons of her shirt were open, making her cleavage clearly visible. Shamelessness was evident in her eyes.

With years of experience, Dastaan didn’t even need a minute to understand her intentions. Girls often lost themselves over Dastaan’s money and personality.

But Dastaan was no amateur player either. He never used the same woman twice. He didn’t believe in things like love.

Dastaan frequently spent nights with different women — models, actresses, prostitutes, and even girls and married women from wealthy families had shared one-night stands with him.

But sometimes, getting rid of women became troublesome for him.

Still, one rule stood above all others in Dastaan’s life: if a woman said no, then it meant no. He never forced himself on any woman. Women came to him willingly.

Raaz leaned close to Dastaan’s ear and whispered,

“Don’t even think about it. Remember what happened last time.”

But Dastaan continued scanning the girl with his eyes. Seeing this, Raaz shut his eyes tightly and said,

“Why are you wasting your time on girls like these? I’m telling you, find a decent girl and settle down already. You’re getting older too.”

Keeping that same cunning smile on his face, Dastaan replied,

“I’m not the kind of man who can stay trapped in one relationship. All I want is money and power. Spending my whole life sleeping beside one woman sounds like a terrible idea.

And besides… there’s no heart in my chest, only stone. And no girl in this world can melt that stone into wax.

So just chill, my brother. Because neither am I searching for someone… nor is anyone trying hard enough to reach me.”