A silent billionaire.
A woman trained to kill.
When power marries danger, love turns lethal.
The message came through the portal.
Our request for a meeting had been accepted. The assassin would come today.
We tried to hijack their portal, but it was too secure. That means she is far more dangerous than I thought, and something stirred inside me.
The farmhouse waited in the light of the moon.
Daksh Malhotra stood at the gate, alert to receive her.
I stayed inside, sitting in the middle of the sofa, my fingers resting on my thigh. I looked calm on the outside, but my heart was racing — not because of fear, but because I believed I might have found what I crave.
Sameer and Kartik sat beside me.
“If she tries anything—” Samir began.
“She won’t,” Kartik cut in quietly. “People like her don’t come to kill when they come openly.”
The sound reached us first — not footsteps, not a voice, but a presence.
Daksh’s voice came through the open doorway.
“Here, ma’am.”
He stepped aside.
And then she entered.
Covered head to toe in black, unforgettable.
Black high heels echoed against the floor.
Loose black pants.
A black jacket with the hood up and a black mask, making her face invisible—only her black eyes visible.
Over it all, a long black coat.
Only her long, straight black hair, falling to her waist, was visible—drifting forward and blurring her face even more.
My eyes couldn’t move from her, but I stayed calm.
The room shifted, every instinct sharpening.
She didn’t rush or hesitate. Each step of her heels was confident, controlled, unapologetic.
Power walked with her — and she commanded it.
Daksh returned to his seat, a second slower than usual. Sameer straightened. Kartik stopped breathing for a moment.
I stayed where I was.
Watched.
Her gaze searched the room’s hierarchy and found me.
I felt it.
For the first time, I felt superior first — and only then realized someone had held my gaze this long and survived.
A predator acknowledging another predator.
I spoke first.
“Welcome,” my voice was calm and polite.
She didn’t respond immediately. When she did, her voice was low—filtered, controlled, unmistakably female.
“You asked for a meeting,” she said. “I don’t usually accept.”
A challenge.
I allowed a faint smile.
“Then I’ll consider it an honor,” I replied. “Please—sit.”
She didn’t move. She stood there, forcing every man in the room to adapt to her timing.
A dangerous woman.
I realized then—this meeting wasn’t about hiring an assassin. It was about two forces colliding, and neither intended to bow.
“My name is Velvet Viper,” she said.
The name fit too well.
It suited her—her presence, her work, and the suffering she could bring.
“And thank you for considering hiring me,” she continued. “Before I accept, I want to know what this is about.”
Straight to the point.
I liked that kind of person—someone who didn’t waste time. To her, the work mattered more than pointless words.
I gestured lightly toward the seating area.
“Of course.”
She moved then—unhurried—taking the chair opposite me, legs crossed, as if she were the one in control here.
Daksh stepped forward without being asked.
“Tea?” he offered, already signaling the staff.
Her head tilted a fraction. “Black. No sugar.”
Sameer raised an eyebrow, amused. Kartik hid a smile behind his hand. Daksh caught it—and smirked at them both.
The tea arrived immediately.
“That’s usually how these meetings go,” Sameer said calmly. “We exchange pleasantries and establish ground rules.”
Her dark gaze stayed on me.
Unblinking.
“I don’t do pleasantries,” she replied. “So don’t expect them from me.”
Interesting.
Sameer’s remaining words died in his mouth.
Daksh shot him a sideways look—careful.
I lifted a hand.
The room fell silent instantly.
“This is not a kill contract,” I said. “Not yet.”
Her fingers rested lightly on the arm of the chair.
“I need information,” I continued. “And a person.”
“Alive?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She finally lifted her teacup. One slow sip.
“Who?”
“The agent,” I said evenly. “The left hand of Arjun Singh, who is the personal secretary of Aakash Singhania. Or if you find someone closer, smarter—use your judgment.”
Her head angled slightly.
“You want him kidnapped,” she said.
“I want him disappeared,” I corrected. “Long enough to talk.”
“And security?” she asked.
“Elite,” Kartik replied. “He has a huge gang of men.”
Daksh added, amused, “Arrogant enough to think he’s untouchable.”
That earned a soft exhale from her.
Almost a laugh.
“This is reconnaissance,” she said slowly. “If the target resists, I silence him.”
“But don’t kill him,” Sameer said in a hurry.
“Payment?” she asked.
“Whatever you quote,” I replied without hesitation.
That did it.
Her head turned fully toward me. When her eyes met mine again, something warm stirred in my chest—I hadn’t realized how much I wanted her to look at me again.
Daksh and Kartik noticed it, and I felt a flicker of embarrassment.
“You don’t negotiate,” she said.
“I do,” I answered. “When it’s worth it.”
Silence stretched.
Finally, she stood.
“I’ll consider it,” she said. “You’ll hear from me within forty-eight hours.”
She turned toward the exit.
Then paused.
“One thing,” she added, not looking back. “If I take this job—no one follows me. No surveillance. No curiosity.”
Her head tilted just enough for me to feel her attention again.
“Because curiosity,” she said softly, “gets people hurt.”
I smiled.
“Understood.”
She left.
The door closed.
For three seconds, no one spoke.
Then Daksh whistled low. “Well.”
Sameer exhaled. “That was… not what I expected.”
Kartik adjusted his watch. “Boss,” he said carefully, “you were unusually generous.”
Samir glanced at me and said, “It’s the first time we’re hiring an assassin.”
I didn’t look away from the door she’d exited through.
“She’s not just an assassin,” I said quietly. “She’s a variable.”
Daksh’s smirk turned knowing.
“And you,” he said, “are already planning ten moves ahead.”
I finally turned.
“No,” I corrected calmly. “I’m planning around her.”
Because something told me— Velvet Viper wasn’t just going to take the job. She was going to change the game.
The meeting ended without ceremony.
I left first, slid into the driver’s seat, and drove home as the sky began to pale. It was almost morning.
The mansion buzzed when I arrived.
The house was moving too fast. Laughter echoed through the corridors. Every corner was decorated for the so-called marriage. The thought annoyed me again and again—trapped, with no way out.
Nishant was guiding my mother through something on the wedding schedule. Reyansh wasn’t home yet—office meeting.
Good.
I greeted my grandfather first, then turned toward the stairs—almost there.
“Ranbir,” my father’s voice stopped me. “Sit here.”
Not a request. I paused and sat with them.
I could see the excitement in everyone’s eyes, but none of it survived my presence. I avoided the engagement because I couldn’t change myself now.
The elders started talking about all the important wedding matters.
I sat there listening, not participating. Every second stretched, and my irritation grew.
I stood.
“I’ll be in my room,” I said—not asking, just informing. “Carry on.”
My grandfather nodded, and I walked away. Behind me, the room exhaled.
The mansion seemed to breathe again without me in it.
The door closed behind me with a quiet click.
Silence.
I loosened my cuffs, stripped without ceremony, and stepped under the shower. Water poured down from above—hot, relentless—sliding over my shoulders, tracing the lines of muscle I’d earned, not inherited. It ran down my spine, over my chest, along my abdomen. I let my head fall back for a moment, eyes closing as the steam thickened the air.
Still—
My mind wasn’t quiet.
That woman.
The assassin.
Velvet Viper.
I planted one hand against the tiled wall, water streaming down my arm, fingers spreading as if grounding myself. My other hand ran through my hair, slicking it back, slower than necessary.
Her voice came first—smooth enough to cut. It didn’t ask for attention. It commanded it.
Then her black eyes. Dark, as if she were studying weaknesses, not faces.
Her walk was unhurried. Heels striking the floor like quiet punctuation.
Nothing about her invited touch. Everything about her dared it.
After that first sight, I made a decision.
Her work. Her life. Her body.
Everything about her would belong to me.
I would own her—and I would make her feel it.
The water hit harder against my skin as my thoughts narrowed, its flow running fiercely over my body.
Then only one word left my throat—
“She is mine.”
Her presence made me forget that I was a predator too.
I exhaled slowly, water dripping from my jaw.
She wasn’t just an assassin. She was my life in this game of hunting.
My hand pressed harder against the wall as a single thought settled, sharp and undeniable—
If Velvet Viper stayed in my orbit for long, this wouldn’t remain just business—and that was the real threat.
After the shower, I dressed without hurry. The water had done nothing to cool my thoughts. Steam still clung to the mirrors as I adjusted my cufflinks, mind already moving ahead of my body. I took the keys, ignored the staff, and drove myself.
The road to the farmhouse was empty at that hour. I preferred driving alone because it kept my nerves steady—just distance and thought. The night stretched long, giving me time to replay her again and again.
How could one woman, in just a few hours, take over my mind—unsettling my calm and driving me crazy?
By the time I reached the gates, I had washed away the thoughts and worn the mask of calm again.
The farmhouse was quiet when we gathered. Not peaceful—
Contained.
Six of us sat at the same table. I took the central seat without a word.
“Let’s start,” I said.
Sameer projected the numbers onto the screen.
The meeting moved quickly through reports, contracts, and expansion plans. Decisions were made, numbers confirmed, strategies adjusted.
No one argued. No one wasted time.
Only when everything important was settled did Sameer finally look up.
“So,” he said lightly, eyes flicking around the table, “about the assassin.”
The air shifted.
Kartik’s jaw tightened. “Her skills are undeniable. The intel she provided checked out.”
“Yes,” Kartik added. “But skill doesn’t guarantee loyalty.”
Nishant folded his hands. “Assassins don’t work for ideals. They work for price.”
Daksh smirked. “And price can always be raised.”
They all looked at me. I didn’t answer immediately.
“Not everyone chooses that path for money,” I said finally, justifying her. Even if she betrayed me, it wouldn’t change anything. I would still make her mine.
Sameer frowned. “With respect—that’s optimism.”
“Or experience,” I replied.
Reyansh spoke carefully. “We’re not questioning her capability. We’re questioning risk. What stops her from switching sides if someone offers more?”
I leaned back slightly.
“Nothing,” I said.
Silence followed.
“That’s why we don’t rely on trust,” I continued. “We rely on leverage.”
Daksh’s smile sharpened. “Surveillance.”
Sameer nodded. “We’ve already started passive monitoring. She may already have the target—and that could be you, sir.”
I also wanted to be everything to her. Even if she came to kill me, I would strip her defenses and make her my own assassin.
Now she couldn’t resist my gaze resting on her—she was mine, only mine.
I stood, palms resting briefly on the table.
“She’s an asset,” I said. “And we need her on our side.”
“She’s an asset,” I said. “And we need her on our side. If she betrays us, I’ll handle her.”
No one argued, because they knew—when I said something, it wasn’t a threat. It was a conclusion.
And after all, the moment my gaze fell on her, I owned her. I would handle everything that came to her, because she is my hunter.
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