The evening was filled with laughter, the aroma of freshly prepared snacks drifting through the air as the Rathore, Mallik, and Singh families sat together, basking in their unbreakable bond. The living room echoed with playful banter as their children—Arjun, Riya, Aditya, and Rohit—chased each other around, their giggles painting a picture of innocence.
Raghav Rathore, Virender Mallik, and Rakesh Singh sat with their drinks, watching their children with fondness. The women—Siya, Nikita, and Neeta—were busy preparing snacks in the kitchen, stealing amused glances at their husbands.
Suddenly, Riya tripped over the carpet and fell with a soft thud. Her big eyes welled up with tears, but before she could let out a cry, Arjun was already by her side.
“Are you okay, princess?” he asked, concern laced in his voice.
Riya blinked at him and smiled through her tears. “I’m okay,” she reassured, rubbing her scraped knee.
Aditya, watching from the couch, made a face. “Oh, come on! It’s just a small accident, Riya. Stop being so dramatic.”
Arjun shot him a glare, his usually calm eyes turning sharp. Aditya immediately shut his mouth, grinning mischievously. It was always like this—Aditya teased Riya like an annoying older brother, while Arjun protected her like a knight guarding his princess.
Their fathers exchanged amused glances.
Raghav chuckled. “At this rate, my son will end up marrying your daughter one day.”
Virender rolled his eyes. “And my daughter will break your son’s heart.”
Rakesh smirked. “Come on, guys, don’t start this debate. Let’s see what the future holds.”
Just then, the wives entered the room carrying trays of snacks.
Siya raised an eyebrow. “Alright, end this pointless discussion about heartbreaks and marriages. Let’s focus on the food before it gets cold.”
Everyone laughed, the warmth of their bond evident in their lighthearted bickering.
But fate had other plans.
The storm that would change everything began with a single conversation.
Virender had come to Raghav and Rakesh with a proposal—an expansion of their business, a deeper dive into the shadows of the underworld. He wanted to collaborate with the Shekhawats, a powerful yet dangerous family that thrived on blood and betrayal.
Raghav slammed his glass down. “You’re out of your mind, Virender! Do you even know what you’re getting into? The Shekhawats are snakes. You can’t trust them!”
Virender’s eyes darkened. “And what do you suggest? We remain stagnant while others rise? This is the only way forward!”
Rakesh shook his head. “You’re being reckless. This isn't just about business; this is about our families! I won’t risk everything we’ve built for this madness.”
Virender’s face twisted with fury. “You two are cowards! You think playing safe will keep you at the top? You’re fools!”
Raghav stood up, his voice dangerously low. “No, Virender. You are blinded by greed. And I won’t let my family be a part of this filth.”
The words were final. The friendship of decades shattered in an instant.
Virender’s fists clenched as rage consumed him. “Fine,” he spat. “From now on, the Mallick will rise alone. And when we do, don’t come crawling back.”
The room fell into suffocating silence.
That night, everything changed.
Virender stormed into his mansion, his heart pounding with fury.
“Nikita! Pack everything. We’re leaving.”
His wife stared at him, confused. “Virender, what happened?”
“Everything is destroyed,” he growled. “The Rathores and Singhs betrayed us.”
Nikita tried to reason with him, but anger had made him deaf to her words.
Then, gunshots.
The sharp, deafening sounds shattered the air.
Riya screamed as chaos erupted around her. Her tiny hands clutched her mother’s dupatta, sobbing. “Mumma, what’s happening?”
Nikita’s face drained of color. She grabbed Riya and rushed to the bedroom, her heart racing. She yanked open the cupboard and placed Riya inside.
“My baccha,” she whispered, tears falling freely. “Always remember, your mamma and dada love you. Stay here. Don’t come out, no matter what. Promise me.”
Riya, terrified but obedient, nodded. “I will be a good girl, Mumma.”
Nikita kissed her forehead, holding her close for one last time before closing the cupboard door.
Riya sat in the darkness, hugging her knees. The sounds of screams and gunfire filled the air. She peeked through the slats—and froze.
A masked man stood over her parents.
Her father lay in a pool of blood. Her mother’s lifeless body was beside him.
The masked man pulled out his phone and spoke, his voice eerily calm.
“Yes, Rathore sir. The work is done.”
Tears blurred Riya’s vision, but she didn’t make a sound. She had promised her mother.
Across the city, another war was unfolding.
Raghav grabbed his gun, his face set with determination. “Siya, take Arjun and stay in the storeroom.”
“No,” Siya whispered, gripping his hand. “I will not leave you.”
Raghav’s resolve wavered, but there was no time to argue.
Arjun, asleep in his mother’s lap, stirred as Siya gently placed him behind a stack of old boxes. She kissed his forehead, her tears dripping onto his skin.
“Mumma and Dadda will always love you, my boy. I’m sorry.”
She turned and ran toward the chaos.
When Arjun woke up, the warmth of his mother’s embrace was gone.
Confused, he stumbled into the hall—only to freeze in horror.
Blood.
Bodies.
His parents.
Dead.
His breath caught in his throat. He wanted to run to them, but footsteps echoed behind him. Panicked, he hid behind the curtains.
A masked man entered, his boots clicking against the marble floor. He pulled out a phone.
“Yes, Mallik sir. The work is done.”
Arjun’s body trembled with silent rage.
---
The Birth of Revenge
The next morning, the world woke up to the news of two powerful families being slaughtered in one night. The Rathores and the Mallicks were no more.
Except for two survivors.
A boy and a girl.
Both broken.
Both seeking revenge.
Arjun believed the Mallick had killed his parents.
Riya believed the Rathores had kil
led hers.
And so, the seeds of hatred were sown in the hearts of two souls who were once meant to be together.
Now, they lived for one thing—vengeance.
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