"Amidst the glittering backdrop of high society, Mafia boss Abhishek Nigam finds himself captivated by the talented and independent architect, Sofia Hayat. Despite their vastly different worlds, a spark ignites between them, leading to a tumultuous...
Abhishek Nigam's eyes were cold and devoid of emotion as he stared down at the trembling man before him. The lavish mansion's opulence was tainted with the scent of fear, and the faint sound of a clock ticking somewhere in the room punctuated the heavy silence.
The man on the floor, Vinod Mehra, was whimpering, his face bruised and bloody. Abhishek's expression remained impassive, his mind focused solely on the task at hand. This was no different from any other night. He had long since discarded any remnants of compassion or mercy, buried along with his mother when he was sixteen.
"Please...please, spare me," Vinod begged, his voice cracking. "I...I'll give you whatever you want."
Abhishek's lips curled into a cruel smile. "What I want, Vinod, is for you to understand the consequences of betraying me."
Before Vinod could react, Abhishek drew his gun and fired a single, silencing shot. The echo of the gunshot faded into the mansion's grandeur, leaving a chilling silence in its wake. Abhishek's gaze remained fixed on Vinod's lifeless body for a moment longer, ensuring there was no trace of life left.
Satisfied, he pulled out his phone and dialed a familiar number. The line clicked, and Sumedh Smith's voice came through. "Boss?"
"It's done," Abhishek said, his tone clipped and businesslike. "Clean this up and arrange everything for tonight. We're going to Club Inferno."
Sumedh responded without hesitation, "Understood. I'll have the team ready."
Abhishek ended the call and took a deep breath, the adrenaline of the kill already dissipating. He made his way to the opulent bathroom, washing the blood from his hands with meticulous care. As the crimson swirled down the drain, he looked at his reflection in the mirror. The man staring back at him was a stranger – handsome, yes, but with eyes that held no warmth.
---
Back at his penthouse, Abhishek went through the ritual of preparing for the night ahead. He opened his wardrobe, filled with tailored suits and designer clothes, and selected an all-black ensemble. The black shirt, perfectly fitted, accentuated his broad shoulders and lean frame. He paired it with a sleek black jacket and trousers, completing the look with polished black shoes.
He moved to his dresser, where an assortment of watches lay. He chose a classic black Rolex, strapping it onto his wrist with practiced ease. Finally, he picked up a pair of black leather gloves, sliding them on. It was a small detail, but one that completed the image he needed to project – one of absolute control and unyielding power.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
HIS LOOK
Abhishek stepped out of his penthouse and into the private elevator that descended to the underground garage. There, his prized possession awaited – a Bugatti La Voiture Noire, black and gleaming under the soft lights. The car was a symbol of his success, a testament to the empire he had built with ruthless efficiency.
