Shaurya's POV:

Her words echoed in my head like a relentless storm, refusing to quiet.

“What happens when that very empire - your empire-harbors men who use its power to beat, torture, and rape women?”

The moment those words left her lips, it was as if someone had fired a bullet straight through my chest.
A bullet that didn’t just pierce flesh but tore open the very foundation of what I had built.

Because Kaala Darbar wasn’t born out of greed, lust, or the hunger for power. No. I had built it from the ashes of injustice. I had bled for it, carved it out of my soul, and given it a purpose - to protect the innocent, to punish the wicked, to deliver justice when the law chose to stay blind.

It was supposed to be a shield, not a weapon against the weak. A fortress where the broken could believe someone still fought for them.

Kaala Darbar was my blood oath to the world that failed my family, failed me.

It was never meant to destroy - it was created so people would finally feel safe in a world that thrived on fear.

And yet… her words cut me because they were true.

Somewhere, somehow, my empire had been tainted. The soil I had watered with my sweat and principles was now poisoned.

A man I had chosen, a man I had trusted used the very name of Kaala Darbar to commit the vilest of sins. Rape. Torture. The desecration of a woman’s dignity.

It shook me to my core. Because every person who stood under my command was handpicked. I had studied them, tested them, weighed their loyalty. I believed in their hunger for justice, not in their hunger for power.

Then where did I go wrong? How did I miss this monster hiding behind my banner?

For a fleeting moment, a crack of doubt slithered through me. Did I fail again?

The same failure that once cost me my dearest person. The same failure that had carved the first scar into my family’s heart.

But the thought barely formed before rage drowned it.
No. I cannot fail.
Not again.
Not when every breath I take is sworn to the memory of her, to the promise I made that day when I first stained my hands with blood for justice.

I clenched my fists until my nails dug into my palms. My jaw ached from how tightly I had locked it.

My empire was mine.
Mine.
And no one, no traitor, no lust-driven bastard, no weak coward had the right to smear it with their filth.

If anyone dared bring dirt to Kaala Darbar, if anyone thought they could twist its power to feed their depravity, then I would make sure they trembled at the mere thought of crossing me.

I would drag them out of their holes, strip away every ounce of dignity they ever pretended to have, and make them bleed until the earth itself spat them out.

And for the one woman - for her - for whom this empire was first dreamed into existence, for whom I had chosen this bloody path, for whom I had built this throne of fear and justice - this betrayal was personal.

I own her pain. I own her fight. And I swear to her whoever touched her, whoever dared to scar her in the name of my empire, I will make them regret the very day they were born.

They will cry.

They will beg.

They will plead for death like a mercy.

But mercy will never come.

The only thing they will find… is pain. More pain. Endless pain.

Because this isn’t just war anymore.

This is fucking personal.

Taking a deep breath, I lowered myself into my chair, letting the weight of the night press down on me.

My mind wasn’t quiet, it was raging, rewinding every detail, every clue, every crack in this façade.

I already knew the truth: the man in front of me, the one I had in my grasp, was nothing more than a pawn. A scapegoat. The real mastermind was someone else—someone far more cunning, far more dangerous.

This wasn’t the work of a reckless fool; this was planned, calculated, deliberate. Whoever was pulling the strings knew everything about me.

He knew my identity. He knew that behind the name Sarkar, I was the one who ruled Kaala Darbar—the empire that shook men into silence with just a whisper of my shadow. And yet… he wasn’t afraid.

That was the part that gnawed at me. He knew… and he still dared.

Good. Let him. Because fear might not have chained him yet, but I swear to the blood on my hands, I will carve it into his bones. I will drill pain into every nerve of his body until his soul begs for release.

He thinks I don’t know what he’s doing, but I can already see the pattern. He’s not attacking me from the front. He’s not declaring war. No… he’s trying to dismantle me piece by piece.

And he was clever enough to choose this.

Arnav Shukla. Of all the men in this filthy world, he chose the son of Jaydeep Shukla—the very first man I killed. The first sin I committed for her. The man whose blood stained my hands and carved the path that led me here.

I still remember that night, the weight of the knife, the heat of his scream. My nightmares still carry his face, the first devil I destroyed in the name of justice.

And now his son… dragged into this.

Coincidence?

No. It’s too precise, too sharp, too intentional. Whoever planned this knew exactly what it would do to me.

They knew it would claw open the scars I had buried, drag me back to the nightmares I thought I had locked away. They wanted me to break, to lose control, to fall apart under the weight of my own past.

Well… congratulations. You succeeded.

For a moment, you managed to shake me. For a moment, you forced me to bleed in silence.

But here’s what you forgot: I don’t stay broken. I don’t surrender. I rebuild. Stronger, sharper, more ruthless than before.

And now you’ve made the biggest mistake of your life. You touched my empire. You touched her.

Kaala Darbar isn’t just an empire—it’s my pride, my blood, my very existence. Every member in it was chosen by me. Every soul in it was weighed, measured, and trusted with my vision. You dared to stain it, to corrupt it, to make it a breeding ground for the very filth I swore to wipe out. You thought you could use my own creation against me.

Fine. Let’s play.

You wanted to test me?

You wanted to challenge Sarkar?

Then wait. Because the day my hands find you, I will make sure your body is torn beyond recognition. Your screams will not reach God. Death will not save you. I will make you regret not fearing me when you had the chance.

But even as I pieced together his game, there was still one thing that didn’t fit. One thing that slipped through my calculations, something that refused to align no matter how I twisted the puzzle.

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Author's POV

A man sat leisurely in his armchair, one leg resting over the other, fingers drumming rhythmically against the armrest. His lips curled into a cold smile as he finally spoke, his voice carrying an unsettling calm.

“Ohh… finally,” he drawled, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “You’ve discovered that one of your own men was involved. I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long.”

Rising from his chair with unhurried grace, he walked toward a large board pinned with photographs and strings connecting them like a spider’s web.

His fingers traced over a few faces before stopping at one, his gaze darkening as he turned back to face Shaurya.

“Ab kya karega, Saarkar?” His tone mocked, sharp with venom.

“Bohat shauq hai na tujhe insaaf dilane ka? Good. Because this time, I wanted you to dig deeper… to peel away every layer… to give her justice. But in doing so, you’ll uncover truths so bitter, so vicious, that instead of healing her… they will shatter you.”

He threw his head back and laughed—a devilish, guttural sound that seemed to crawl under the skin, clinging like shadows in a dark room. Then he leaned closer to the board, tapping a photograph, his voice dropping into a low whisper that echoed like a curse.

“I know… you’re trying everything to solve this puzzle. But no matter how far you go, no matter how hard you fight you’ll always end up back at square one. Because, Saarkar… you will never understand why I chose her - that girl - to be the blade of my revenge.”

The room fell into silence, but the echo of his laughter lingered haunting, poisonous like a promise that the worst was yet to come.

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