Mahika rose from her seat, her expression unreadable, and smoothed the fabric of her tailored dress. The moment was charged with unspoken tension, and Rajbeer’s gaze followed her as she moved with her usual precision, a predator masking her every move with grace.

“I trust you’ll send the finalized documents by tomorrow,” she said, her tone brisk, back to the no-nonsense demeanor he had come to expect.

Rajbeer inclined his head. “You’ll have them before noon.”

Without another word, she turned and strode away. The club pulsed with life, its throbbing bass echoing the unsteady rhythm of Mahika's heart. She leaned against the bar, her eyes fixed on the enigmatic figure of Rajbeer, who remained cloaked in shadows, a predator studying its prey. The air was thick with tension, a palpable blend of ambition and danger that both excited and unnerved her.

Mahika’s mind raced. The offer Rajbeer had extended weighed heavily on her; a partnership was a tempting proposition, especially with someone as formidable as HADES. Yet, the stakes of aligning herself with such a notorious figure were high. She had fought tirelessly to carve her own path in the underworld, and the last thing she wanted was to be seen as a mere extension of Rajbeer’s empire.

"Kartik," she called, her voice steady despite the chaos around them. He approached, his brow furrowed with concern. "What do you think? Is it worth exploring this partnership with HADES?"

Kartik, ever the voice of reason, crossed his arms. "I don't trust him, Ika. He’s dangerous, and while he may seem interested in building something together, we both know how quickly allegiances can shift in our world."

Mahika nodded, acknowledging the truth in his words. But the thought of uniting their strengths, of creating an empire that could rival the existing powers in Vancouver, was enticing. Still, she had to tread carefully. Heels clicking against the polished floor. The crowd in the club barely noticed as she made her way to the private exit, her aura parting the sea of revelers like a force of nature.

The cool night air greeted her as she stepped into the waiting car. Her driver nodded silently, knowing better than to disturb her when her expression was so inscrutable.

“Take me to the villa,” she instructed, her voice soft but firm.

The car moved smoothly through the city, leaving the noise and chaos of the nightlife behind. As they approached her villa, perched on a secluded hill overlooking the city, Mahika felt the tension in her shoulders ease.

The villa was her sanctuary, a place untouched by the games of power and ambition she played so expertly. It was quiet here, the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze a stark contrast to the pulse of the club.

Inside, the faint scent of jasmine lingered in the air

Mahika kicked off her heels as she stepped onto the villa's balcony, the cool stone beneath her feet grounding her after a night that felt like a chess match. The city lights stretched out before her, glittering against the dark sky. She cradled a glass of wine in her hand, the first sip warming her as the quiet began to settle her racing mind.

Rajbeer’s words replayed in her head, tugging at her thoughts in a way she didn’t entirely like. She hated how his proposal aligned so perfectly with her vision, even if she wasn’t ready to admit it aloud. Trusting him wasn’t an option—she’d learned that lesson the hard way with men like him—but dismissing him outright felt shortsighted.

“A legacy,” she murmured to herself, the word tasting both tempting and bitter.

She leaned against the railing, the jasmine-scented breeze brushing past her. For all her sharp edges and calculated moves, moments like this reminded her of the person she rarely let anyone see—the woman who’d fought her way up, the one who had learned to survive by trusting only herself.

She took another sip of her wine, the cool night air filling her lungs. Whatever Rajbeer Singh thought he was offering, she’d make sure she stayed two steps ahead.

The city below blinked on, oblivious to her schemes and struggles. Her lips curved into a small smile, not of arrogance, but of quiet determination.

If anyone was going to make history, it would be her.

Mahika lingered on the balcony, her thoughts refusing to settle. She watched the city, its lights blinking like tiny promises, each one telling a story of someone chasing something—success, love, or maybe just survival. For her, it had always been about control. Control over her choices, her future, her life.

She exhaled slowly, the sound almost lost in the stillness of the night. Tonight had been a victory, but victories never felt as sweet as they should. There was always something behind them—another move to make, another threat looming in the shadows.

Rajbeer Singh.

His name sat heavy in her mind, like a puzzle piece she wasn’t sure where to fit. He was charming, confident, and undeniably smart. And that made him dangerous. She’d seen men like him before—men who thought their charisma could open any door, bend anyone to their will.

But he wasn’t like the others, not entirely. There was something about the way he looked at her tonight, not just with ambition but with... respect? Interest? She hated herself a little for even considering it, for letting her thoughts drift to the flicker of intensity in his gaze.

Mahika set her wine glass down and rubbed her temples, willing the thoughts away.

“Get a grip,” she muttered under her breath.

She turned back inside, her bare feet silent against the polished floors of the villa. It was too quiet here sometimes, the kind of quiet that let old memories sneak in. The kind of quiet that reminded her why she worked so hard to build walls around herself.

Walking through the open-plan living room, her eyes fell on a framed photo on the shelf. Her younger self smiled back at her, arms wrapped around her parents, a rare moment of joy frozen in time. It was taken before the fall, before the losses, before she learned that the world wasn’t a place for the naïve.

“I’m not that girl anymore,” she said softly, as if the photo could hear her.

She picked up her phone and glanced at the time. It was late, but sleep felt like a distant possibility. She considered calling her assistant to double-check the documents Rajbeer had promised, but she stopped herself. Trusting someone else to handle the details was something she was still learning to do.

Instead, she walked to the kitchen, pouring herself another glass of wine. Her mind drifted back to the man in the club—the way he’d spoken about legacies, about building something that lasted.

Part of her envied his conviction. Another part of her wanted to tear it apart, to prove that his vision would crumble without her.

Mahika leaned against the kitchen counter, the wine glass cool in her hand. She thought about everything she’d built and everything she still wanted to achieve. Maybe Rajbeer was right about one thing: a legacy wasn’t just about success. It was about leaving a mark, creating something that outlived you.

But if they were going to build a legacy together, it would be on her terms. No compromises, no distractions.

Her phone buzzed on the counter, snapping her out of her thoughts. She glanced at the screen—an unknown number. For a moment, she hesitated, her instincts prickling. Then, with a deliberate calm, she picked it up.

“Mahika speaking,” she said, her tone clipped and professional.

There was a pause on the other end before a familiar voice spoke, smooth and unhurried. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

She recognized it instantly. Rajbeer.

Her grip on the phone tightened slightly, but her voice didn’t betray her irritation. “It’s late, Rajbeer. What do you want?”

“I just wanted to thank you for tonight,” he said, his tone carrying a hint of amusement. “And to remind you—our work is just beginning.”

Mahika rolled her eyes, though a small smile tugged at her lips. “I don’t need reminders. Just deliver on your promises.”

“Oh, I will,” he said, a note of certainty in his voice. “But let’s not forget—this is our empire, Mahika. You and me. Side by side.”

She let the silence stretch, not giving him the satisfaction of a reply. Finally, she said, “Good night, Rajbeer,” and hung up before he could say more.

Setting the phone down, Mahika stared at it for a long moment. She could feel the pull of his ambition, the way he tried to weave their fates together.

But Mahika had learned long ago how to untangle herself from anyone’s grip.

She finished her wine, the cool breeze drifting in from the open balcony doors. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new moves to make. And she’d be ready. She always was.