It was pouring heavily, and the earthy smell of wet clay filled the village air. Inside a dimly lit room, a circle of men sat gambling, their favorite pastime. For them, losing everything had always seemed like a game, but today was different. There was an unusual tension in the room. A man was playing with them—a man who had never lost in his life.

The room was clouded with smoke from cigarettes, cheap liquor bottles scattered around, and the heavy scent of alcohol hung in the air. At the center of it all sat Ruhaan, lounging casually in a chair with one leg draped over the other, his body language exuding confidence and dominance. Surrounding him were the other men, watching him with a mix of fear and admiration.

Ruhaan leaned back, took a long drag from his cigarette, and exhaled lazily as he glanced at Raghav, who had just lost everything. With a cold, detached voice, he asked, "Ab kya hai aapke paas lagane ko?"

Raghav’s face was pale. He had nothing left. "Main... mere paas ab kucch nahi hai aapko dene ko, Thakur sahab," he muttered, his voice trembling with fear.

Ruhaan didn't flinch. Sympathy was not in his nature. Emotions were merely weaknesses in his world. Raghav stood, ready to leave, but before he could take a step, Ruhaan’s men surrounded him, blocking his path.

"Jab tumhare paas kuch tha hi nahi, toh khel shuru hi kyun kiya?" Ruhaan's voice was calm but deadly, as he stood up slowly, picking up his gun from the table. His other hand held a cigarette, the smoke swirling lazily between his fingers. He walked over to Raghav, placing the barrel of the gun right between his eyes, and with a chilling calm, he whispered, "Itni aasani se toh nahi."

The room was still. The tension is palpable.

A voice from the group broke the silence. "Soch dhyaan se, kuch toh hoga."

Raghav hesitated, then spoke, his voice desperate. "Haan... hai mere paas. Lekin uske badle mujhe ghar, zameen, janwar sab wapas dena hoga."

Ruhaan’s interest piqued. He gestured for Raghav to sit again. Ruhaan crossed his legs and leaned back, taking another drag from his cigarette. "Speak," he ordered.

Raghav’s voice wavered as he said, "Meri bhatiji." The room fell silent in shock. Everyone’s eyes widened, but Ruhaan remained unfazed. He had seen and dealt with far worse.

Ruhaan chuckled, his lips curling into a cruel smile. "Do I look that desperate to you?" he asked, a mocking glint in his eyes.

Raghav fell to his knees, his hands clasped together in a pleading gesture. "Please, Thakur Sahab, take her. Do whatever you want with her. Even sell her if you like. Mujhe koi lena dena nahi hai usse, bas mera ghar bacha lijiye."

Ruhaan had seen that girl before—at the village temple, or sometimes at the riverbank. She was always lost in her own world, her innocence a stark contrast to the filth around her. Once, he had tried speaking to her, but she had coldly refused, saying, "Main jinhe nahi jaanti, unse baat nahi karti. Aur aap toh shehri... kaun jaane aapke irade kya hain." She had walked away without a second glance.

Ruhaan stood there, staring down at the pathetic figure of Raghav. "I enjoy ruining people, taking everything from them, but I won’t buy a girl." His voice was firm, final.

Raghav stood up abruptly, desperation flaring in his eyes. "Then come after two days. If you won’t take her, I’ll sell her to someone else." With that, he stormed out, leaving a tense silence behind him.

---

Later that night, Ruhaan returned to his grandmother’s house. He lay on a cot in the courtyard, the night air cool against his skin. A cigarette was still hanging from his lips, glowing faintly in the darkness. His mind wandered, thinking about the conversation earlier. How could someone sell their family so easily? he wondered. Family is rare and precious—how could people be willing to lose them in a heartbeat?

But there was something else gnawing at him. The girl... She’s too innocent for this world, he thought, a strange uneasiness settling in his chest.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. He quickly shifted, pretending to be asleep, pulling his pillow closer.

"Done with your drama?" His grandmother, Rajeshwari, spoke, her voice sharp but loving.

Ruhaan smirked and sat up slowly. "No, Nani, I was really sleeping," he protested, rubbing his eyes for effect.

Rajeshwari walked over and tugged on his ear playfully, making him wince and grab her hand. "Tujhe kya lagta hai, mujhe kuch dikhta nahi? I have four eyes," she scolded, her tone affectionate despite the reprimand. She glanced at the cigarette still burning near the cot and shook her head. "Aur yeh cigarette... still burning."

Ruhaan smiled sheepishly, trying to hide it, but Rajeshwari’s scowl softened into a sigh. "Chhod. Tujhe kehne ka koi faayda nahi hai. Teri shaadi kara dun tabhi sudhrega."

Ruhaan chuckled. "Nani!"

"Kya 'Nani'?" she replied, her voice teasing now. "Did you eat? Or are you surviving on liquor and cigarettes?"

"I ate," he lied, not wanting to worry her.

"Good," she said, walking back towards her room. From the doorway, she called out, "Go to your room, Ruhi!"

Ruhaan groaned, shouting back, "Nani, I’m a boy, not a girl!" He laughed to himself, shaking his head at the nickname she love to use.

Marriage.

"Why ruin someone else's life with mine?" He muttered under his breath.

Marriage wasn’t for someone like him. He knew that. His world was filled with dark shadows, deceit, and cruelty. He had become comfortable in that darkness, even thrived in it. The idea of bringing someone else into that chaos felt selfish and cruel. How could he ever allow an innocent life, full of dreams and hopes, to be tied to his twisted reality?

Marriage means responsibility, trust, and love—things I can't afford, he thought, his lips curling into a bitter smile.

Thinking, his eyes slowly dazed off..

……………………….................

From that day on, Raghav was consumed with desperation, hunting for a man willing to buy his niece. He needed money to reclaim everything Ruhaan had taken from him. As promised, he gave himself two days, and today marked the final day of his search.

Now Raghav sat across from a man in his 50s, explaining his offer. This man wasn’t just anyone—he was married and a respected figure in the village.

"Why for my son? Why not for me?" the man asked with a sly smile.

Raghav hesitated. The thought of selling his niece to a man twice her age, who was already married, twisted something in his gut. But desperation has a way of silencing conscience.

The man leaned in, his voice low but commanding. "Kya soch raha hai? Batao. Humein do gune paise milenge, batao manzoor hai?"

The weight of his decision bore down on him, but Raghav nodded and resigned. "Manzoor hai, Sahib."

.......................................

Meanwhile, in Ruhaan’s office, he was sitting behind his desk when Abhay burst in, breathless and without knocking.

"Sir... Sir!" Abhay stammered, his face flushed with urgency.

Ruhaan’s eyes flashed with irritation, his voice cold and sharp. "Tumhara dimaag kharab hai? Knock karna nahi aata?"

Abhay quickly bowed his head in apology. "Sorry, Sir... but you told me to inform you immediately if there was any news about Raghav."

Ruhaan’s anger simmered down slightly. "Bolo," he ordered, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed.

Abhay swallowed hard. "Sir... Raghav went to Ratan."

Ruhaan’s eyes narrowed. "Aur?"

Abhay hesitated, then continued. "Woh tayyar hai, sir."

Ruhaan’s face darkened instantly. He shot up from his chair so quickly that it fell over with a loud crash. "What? He's ready to buy her? For his son?"

Abhay shook his head, his voice trembling. "No, Sir... for himself. As his mistress."

In that moment, the room filled with the sound of shattering glass as Ruhaan slammed his fist into the desk, breaking the glass in his hand. He grabbed the gun from his drawer, the cold metal pressing into his waist as he tucked it into his belt.

"Let’s go," he barked, storming out of the office without another word.

Abhay hurried behind him, panic in his voice. "Sir, where are we going? Sir... Sir!" But Ruhaan didn’t respond; his eyes set with cold determination.

The air around him was thick with fury, and the only thought running through his mind was that he would not let this happen—not to her.

…………………….....

Chachi, why did you make me wear this saree and get ready? We aren’t allowed to do things like this," she asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty as she looked at her aunt.

Her aunt remained silent for a moment, glancing toward the door before replying softly, "Your Chacha said to."

"But why?" she insisted, feeling the unease build in her chest.

Before her aunt could answer, her Chacha stormed into the room, his voice dripping with disdain.

"Bahut sawal jawab chal rahe hai. Ab ye sawal jaake waha karna jaha tujhe bhej raha hoon."

"Too many questions. Go and ask those questions where I’m sending you."

A wave of confusion and fear surged through her mind. "Wh... Where?"

With a cruel smile, her chacha looked her in the eye, his words cold and heartless.

I’m selling you. Finally, you’re of some use to us. I’ll never forget the day you brought me luck. I’m getting back everything I lost... and it’s all because of you.

Her heart stopped, tears welling up in her eyes. "Yo... you're selling me?"

"Ab itna natak mat karo."

("Stop acting so much.")

He came closer, placing his rough hand on her shoulder, which sent a wave of disgust through her body.

At least you can do this much for us." Raghav said

Outside, the sound of cars and motorcycles signaled the arrival of those who had come to buy her. Raghav hurried outside, his face a mix of eagerness and impatience.

Outside, two cots and four chairs were set up. Raghav walked up to the men and gestured for them to sit. They settled into the chairs, and Ratan, the buyer, nodded to one of his men, who brought out a bag of money.

"Ye lo, aur wo do hame jiske liye hum yahan aaye hain."

("Here, take this, and give us what we came for.")

Raghav laughed, as if some dark, twisted joke was being played, while the others chuckled along, their faces filled with greed.

"Ji... Ji."

("Yes... yes.")

Taking the bag in his hands, he called out to his wife.

"Meena, le aao usse bahar."

("Meena, bring her out.")

Meena emerged from the house with the trembling girl, whose tears now flowed uncontrollably. She stood, helpless and terrified, as Ratan and his men got up from their seats, their eyes filled with lustful intent.

Ratan grabbed her wrist, his fingers digging into her skin, leaving marks as he dragged her toward the car. She looked desperately at her aunt and uncle, silently begging them to stop him, hoping that, for just one moment, their hearts would soften.

But her hopes shattered as her aunt and uncle stood silently, not making a move.

Ratan locked her in the car, and as the vehicle roared to life, it began to pull away, leaving the village behind.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly for Raghav, Meena, and Ratan, until a car suddenly blocked their path, forcing them to come to a screeching halt.

Ratan's face twisted in annoyance. "Jab logon ko gaadi chalani nahi aati, to kyun le lete hain? Jaao, dekho kaun hai!"

("When people don’t know how to drive, why do they even bother? Go check who's blocking us!")

His frustration was evident as the delay was making him late for his destination.

Two men stepped out of the car with an air of dominance. Ratan’s men walked toward them, ready to intimidate. "Who are you? Aur himmat kaise hui tumhari malik ke gaadi ke saamne aane ki?"

("Who are you, and how dare you block the path of our master’s car?")

Abhay, who was with Ruhaan, knew exactly what was about to unfold. Ruhaan, calm yet lethal, responded as he pulled out his gun and pointed it directly between the man’s eyebrows.

"Tumhari maut."Ruhaan said in a voice that everyone listen.

("Your death.")

Abhay followed his lead, drawing his own gun and aiming it at another man.

"Hum waada karte hain, ab jab hamari gaadi tumhare malik ke saamne aayi hai, to wo aaj ke baad kisi ke saamne nahi aayenge."

("We promise you, since our car has crossed paths with your master's, he won't cross anyone's path again.")

Before anyone could react, a scream echoed—Aehhh!—but the next word never escaped the man's lips as Ruhaan and Abhay pulled the triggers, taking them down swiftly.

Chaos erupted. Men started rushing toward Ruhaan and Abhay, but they were no match. The pair shot down Ratan’s men one by one, like they were merely playing a game. Each man that approached fell to the ground, lifeless. Ruhaan didn’t flinch; it was like second nature to him. Abhay fought with precision, handling the others with ease, allowing Ruhaan to make his way toward the car where Ratan was hiding.

Ratan sat inside, watching the everyone with terror in his eyes. Ruhaan reached the door and attempted to open it, but it was locked. He smirked, bending down to pick up a stone from the road. With one swift move, he smashed the car's window, the glass shattering like his mercy.

Ratan trembled as Ruhaan opened the door. He grabbed him by the collar and yanked him out of the car. "Marne ki umar hoti ja rahi hai, aur jawani nahi gayi abhi tak."

("You’re getting too old to be acting like your youth hasn’t passed.")

With that, Ruhaan threw him to the ground like a ragdoll.

Abhay, who had been watching from afar, now leaned against the car with a grin.

"Hey hero, come here."

Abhay rushed over. "Yes, Sir."

"Bring a stone."

Sir, what will we do with a stone? Abhay asked."Just bring it. I’ll show you a new way to torture people."

Abhay hurriedly searched the area and returned with a large stone. "Sir, is this okay?"

"Yess."

He took the stone in his hand, ignoring the sobbing girl in the car, too terrified to understand what was happening around her.

Ruhaan rolled up his sleeves and squatted beside Ratan, who was still shaking with fear. He grabbed Ratan's hand, placed it on the road, and, without hesitation, brought the stone down hard on it. The sickening sound of bones cracking filled the air as Ruhaan repeatedly smashed the stone against his hand, like a man possessed.

Blood smeared the road, and Ratan’s hands were mangled beyond recognition. It was so brutal that death seemed like a kinder option.

Ruhaan stood up, dusting off his hands like it was just another day. "And tell everyone, if anyone even dares to look her way again, I won’t kill them. But what I’ll do will make them beg for death, and it won’t come."

Ratan, barely able to stand, crawled away as fast as he could. His survival instinct took over, and he fled, leaving behind nothing but the echoes of his pain.

Ruhaan turned toward car there a trembling figure,He bent down to look for her,"Now what should I with you."

Ma..Maut de..Dijiye..hame..