Tara Bansal is a fiercely independent lawyer, unafraid to confront the toughest challenges in her pursuit of justice. When she crosses paths with Ayaan Malhotra, a notorious figure with a dark past, she finds herself entangled in a dangerous game of...
Ayaan sat in his dimly lit living room, the air thick with smoke from the cigarette hanging lazily between his fingers. A bottle of expensive whiskey stood half-empty on the table beside him. He took a long drag, his lips curling into a smug smirk. The power he wielded now, the fear his name instilled—it made him feel invincible.
"Look at me now," he murmured, staring at the dark city skyline through his window. "Untouchable."
His gaze drifted to his laptop on the coffee table. He leaned forward, tapping a key to wake the screen. There she was—Tara Bansal, her name and image pulled up with a few clicks, so easy for someone with his connections. He smirked again, inhaling another puff of smoke.
“So, Tara Bansal,” he muttered, eyes fixed on her profile, studying her picture with a gleam in his eyes. “I wonder just how strong you really are.”
The memory of yesterday flooded his mind.
Ayaan had gone to the courtroom, as he often did when a child was arrested for murder. There was something about watching the justice system fail over and over again that amused him. Dressed in a dark hoodie that covered half of his face, he blended into the shadows of the courtroom, unnoticed and unseen. He always came for the same reason—waiting to see if someone would finally have the guts to stand up against him and prove that the child wasn’t guilty. But that never happened. The law in this country? It was laughable.
“Stupid law,” he chuckled to himself as the judge prepared to deliver the final verdict. He was expecting the usual—guilty, arrested, and another life ruined while he remained untouchable.
But something unexpected happened.
“Having considered all the evidence and testimonies,” the judge’s voice echoed through the courtroom, “I find that the prosecution has not sufficiently proven that Rohan Sharma is guilty of the crime charged. The evidence presented does not establish beyond a reasonable doubt that he committed the act of murder.”
Ayaan’s eyes shot up, disbelief clouding his thoughts. What? He hadn’t expected this. For the first time in ages, a child wasn’t going to be punished.
His gaze shifted to a woman standing at the defense table, her lips curling into a satisfied smile. It was her. She had done the impossible—she had outsmarted the system, outsmarted him.
Ayaan had never been more intrigued. How had she managed to do it so effortlessly? How had she managed to make the judge see through the lies?
He clenched his fist, a mix of curiosity and anger swirling inside him. She had become a problem now. But there was something about her—a strength he hadn’t expected. He wanted to see more.
He leaned back in his chair, the smirk never leaving his face. Whatever happened next, he was going to enjoy every moment of it.
Ayaan watched Tara with a hunter's intensity, his dark eyes following every subtle move she made. He noticed the way her lips curled into a small, victorious smile, the kind that radiated satisfaction. Her long hair flowed over her shoulders, swaying gently as she moved. Her skin glowed under the afternoon sun, and the way she walked—confident, almost proud—caught his attention in a way he hadn't expected.
He hadn't taken his eyes off her since she left the courtroom. She was walking with an aura of power, completely unaware of the predator watching her from the shadows.
Ayaan stood outside, leaning against a pillar, arms crossed, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. His gaze never left her. Every second, every movement of hers was being analyzed. She was talking to Rohan Sharma now—the boy she had just freed from the shackles of the justice system. Ayaan knew Rohan. He’d seen the fear in the boy’s eyes when the police first arrested him, the sheer terror that made his body tremble.
That fear… it had reminded Ayaan of his younger self.
A flashback tugged at the corners of his mind. He could still remember the moment when the police had stormed into his house, the cold steel of handcuffs biting into his wrists. But the fear hadn’t been for himself—it had been for his family, for what would happen to them because of him.
Ayaan clenched his jaw and shook off the memory.
His attention back to the present. Rohan’s face was completely different from what Ayaan remembered. The boy was smiling, a real, genuine smile, the kind that made his eyes crinkle. His family stood beside him, tears streaming down their faces, but for once, they were tears of happiness. Ayaan stared at them, unmoved by their joy, his focus shifting back to Tara.
He had noticed her name from the small tag pinned to her blazer, a detail that most would overlook, but not him.
"Tara bansal" he chuckled.
Her name rolled in his mind like a challenge. He watched her, smirking to himself. Her smile—it was doing something to him. He didn’t like it. The way she held herself, the confidence in her stride—it irritated him, but at the same time, it intrigued him.
Then, something unexpected happened. Tara's eyes flicked toward him. For a brief second, their gazes locked.
Ayaan felt a jolt of anger course through his veins. How dare she? She met his eyes for only a few seconds and then had the audacity to turn away, flicking her hair as if he were nothing. The fury built inside him. His eyes darkened, narrowing into slits as they burned with rage.
"How dare she ignore me?"
For a moment, he wanted to walk over to her, to grab her by the wrist and make her look at him—really look at him. He wanted her to see the monster she had just caught the attention of. His eyes moved over her body, taking in the way her clothes hugged her frame.
An image flashed in his mind—of her beneath him, those same clothes torn away, her defiance shattered. She would be in his bed, vulnerable, broken, warming him with her body. He could see it so clearly.
He smirked again, the anger in his eyes simmering down into cold amusement.
It won’t take long, he thought, exhaling a puff of smoke. She’ll be soon under me. He smirk.
With one last glance at her, Ayaan was ready to leave but he noticed that Tara is leaving too. He smirk. . . .. . . . . . .
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