BEHADD

Do

Mumbai, Maharashtra

Khatri, it's a modified version for kshatriya. It's my surname. Well that's what I was born with. I never use it, everyone in my business and underground world knows me by my name Rudra. The surname is just a formality and to be precise I hate it.

It's well said, "Life doesn't get easier you get used to the pain."

Guns, money, politics, power, and danger. That's my life. Behind the power, money and glory there lies danger, dirty politics and greed. Only the filthiest and dirtiest person can survive and remain on the top. And they have to have that kind of aptitude. It's not that easy, once you're in it. There's no going back.

No kindness, no pity, no happy ending.

"Boss the 7 pm meeting", my assistant informs and after getting my approval leaves. 

I hate delays, punctuality is essential in the business world, time is priceless. And when you earn lakhs in an hour it is very expensive as well. That's why you don't get time for shitty things like... women.

"Mr. Rudra, pleasure to meet you. How is-", Mr. Santiago starts the conversation, trying too hard to get in my good books already. "Mr. Santiago as much as I'd like to go on with the formalities I've got to be somewhere in...", I look over at my wrist watch and state, "Ten minutes, so can we get to the point?"

He nods and takes his seat. People know better than to mess with me. "So about the shares..."

And the meeting went on with me stating my preference and giving a contract. Although the business is a façade to lure authorities from the dirty things we do, I take it seriously, maybe that is the reason for setting up a billion dollar company in just five years. And multi billion dollar mafia in seven.

It's ten past seven and I am needed in The Bombay underworld. As tiring it may seem, I have grown familiar with it's working. Was only fourteen when started working illegally, but only when I was twenty did I manage to form my own gang.

Gang turned into city mafia and then to the most powerful one in the world. It has the largest number of people working, from hitmen to doctors, engineers, hackers, spies. Not only from Mumbai but from every state and almost twelve nations across world.

Most important people live in my apartment in Malabar Hill, from the first floor till the 49th. They are trustworthy people, who have sworn their loyalty to the mafia. Total three hundred and ninety in number. 49th floor is reserved for Dhruv and his family, 48th has two apartment one for my left hand and one for my assistant.

50th floor is my abode, and no one dares to go there, not that they can even. There's a passcode required to even enter the penthouse, let alone enter my house, and I'd like it to remain that way. 

I visit my penthouse only on occasions when I get more than four hours to sleep, and that's rare. My office and private plan are my second home. If I'm not taking care of company business, I'm travelling abroad to visit other mafia acquaintances.

"Sir we've arrived.", My driver informs parking the car in a dark alleyway. I open my door and take off my coat, rolling my sleeves I take out my pack of cigarettes and lit it with my lighter keeping the roll in my mouth.

"You can leave", and with that he leaves, and I watch down the familiar path. After a few turns I reach my destination. 

"Mastan!" "Mastan" "Mastan", "Naik!" "Naik" "Naik", normal people like to show their skills in rings, but underworld is famous for killing the opponents in the ring, they fight for their lives. And that's the fun.