A silent billionaire.
A woman trained to kill.
When power marries danger, love turns lethal.
I reached the studio first.
The hot shower burned against my skin, washing away the blood and dirt from the mission. When I stepped out, I was dressed in black pants, a black top, and a fitted black jacket. A cap rested low over my head, while my heavy long bangs covered most of my face, leaving barely anything visible.
Exhaustion had settled deep into my bones. It had been a long day.
Morning darkness still swallowed the city. The world was asleep... while I had spent the night killing devils.
After lunch, most of the family members had already left the mansion for work. Ranbir informed the elders that he wouldn't return to the mansion for almost two days because of work. He would stay at his own house closer to the office.
Maa insisted on sending me with him. I had started noticing how much effort she put into making our marriage look perfect. She grabbed every small chance to bring us closer.
But he casually told her to send me later with the driver, as if I were some object being transferred from one place to another.
I told the driver to drop me at the studio first since I had some work there, and after finishing it, I would go to his house myself.
Instead, I slipped away from the studio to complete the mission.
I already knew he wouldn't return home tonight anyway.
He would be waiting for Velvet Viper to finish her task and report back to him at the farmhouse.
By the time I finally reached the Rathor farmhouse, the air felt colder than outside.
I was exhausted but the work wasn't finished yet.
The guard led me down a narrow staircase hidden beneath the farmhouse.
With every step lower, the air changed.
The smell hit first-blood, rusted iron, damp concrete.
At the bottom was a large underground hall lit by dim industrial lights fixed into the ceiling. The basement was silent except for the faint sound of chains shifting somewhere in the dark.
Four separate rooms connected to the central hall, each built like a nightmare for a different purpose. Guards moved calmly between them.
The first room was locked.
The second looked like a private armory. Walls lined with guns, rifles, silencers, daggers, combat knives, electric batons, and countless other weapons.
The third room made even me pause. Heavy chains hung from the ceiling, swaying slightly in the cold air. Shackles dangled at the ends while iron hooks were fixed into the concrete walls. Dark blood stains spread across the floor as one guard silently cleaned them.
This wasn't just a basement.
This was Ranbir Rathor's torture chamber.
My legs trembled slightly, but I still forced myself toward the fourth room.
That's where everyone was.
Sameer, Kartik, Daksh, Nishant, and Reyansh stood around calmly. None of them looked disturbed by this place. That was the disturbing part.
In the center sat the man I had captured.
He was crying so hard his entire body shook. He sat tied to an iron chair, spiked fencing wire wrapped tightly around his wrists again and again until metal had cut deep into his skin. Blood dripped steadily onto the black floor beneath him.
The sound echoed through the room.
His face was swollen. Fear visible in every breath he took.
And still-
No one looked sympathetic.
Kartik stepped forward first.
"Name."
The man stayed silent.
The slap landed hard across his face, echoing sharply through the basement.
"I asked your name," Kartik repeated calmly.
"R-Raghav... Sethi..." the man stammered in a trembling voice.
Reyansh crouched in front of him, elbows resting on his knees. "Who funds you? Whose feet do you lick?"
Raghav stayed silent again.
A brutal punch landed in his stomach - Sameer.
"We are hired by Pardeep Mishra," Raghav gasped painfully. "I am the security chief there."
Kartik grabbed him by the collar and yanked him upward. The fencing spikes wrapped around his wrists cut deeper into his skin. Flesh tore slightly against the metal and blood dripped faster onto the floor. His scream echoed through the room.
"Who were the four men there?" Sameer asked coldly.
"I don't know-"
Kartik kicked him hard.
"Wrong answer," Sameer said coldly.
"One was Aakash Singhania," Raghav cried quickly. "And the other one was his man. He was just a puppet..."
Nishant leaned against the metal door, arms crossed. "And the other two?"
Raghav swallowed hard. "I don't know."
Another kick from Kartik landed instantly.
Raghav cried out loudly. "I truly don't know! Both of them were VIPs!"
Reyansh stood up slowly. "Where is Pardeep Mishra?"
The room went still.
Raghav hesitated.
Kartik grabbed him by the collar again and punched him brutally in the stomach. Blood spilled from his mouth as he vomited onto the floor.
"I'm telling you! I'm telling you!" he cried desperately. "He ran. He escaped out of the country. But... there is a gang party happening soon. He may come there."
"Why did he fake his death?" Nishant asked.
"I don't know," Raghav whispered, crying helplessly now.
At this point, his face was barely recognizable anymore.
My heartbeat rose slightly, but I stayed silent in the corner, simply observing them and listening to every question carefully.
Raghav's eyes flickered with confusion and fear. "I told you everything... everything I know..." he begged weakly, collapsing against the chair.
I already told them everything I saw and everything that happened after I arrived at the farmhouse and sat in the meeting room with them. Everyone had been present there... except Ranbir.
And since the moment I arrived here, I still hadn't seen him once.
Sharp footsteps echoed through the basement corridor.
Everyone turned slightly.
Then he appeared.
Ranbir walked into the room wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and black trousers perfectly fitted against his tall frame. A silver watch rested around his wrist, catching the dim basement light for a second.
Even inside a torture chamber smelling of blood and iron-
He looked breathtaking and somehow... impossibly attractive.
Ranbir hummed softly. "Hmm."
It wasn't approval. It wasn't disappointment.
"Well... I told you everything I know," Raghav cried weakly. "Please let me go."
"So," Ranbir said after a moment, his voice almost thoughtful, "we don't need you any longer."
Raghav's breathing turned erratic instantly. "No-no, please-"
"Yes," Daksh said coldly. "Now he's worthless."
Ranbir's gaze stayed fixed on him.
"Checking your records," he said calmly. "We found out you gave loans to desperate people... then forced their women to entertain your VIPs. You turned helplessness into business."
Silence filled the room.
"Last week," Ranbir continued quietly, "you raped a girl... then killed her to erase the victim."
My eyes widened in shock.
Such a bastard.
Why didn't I kill him with my own hands?
My fingers curled tightly into a fist, rage burning through me. But the truth was-I would never torture someone like this. One bullet to the head and their life ends.
"She was someone's sister," Ranbir said coldly. "Someone's daughter."
That was when I noticed one of the guards standing silently in the corner.
His posture remained perfectly straight, his expression emotionless like the others-
But tears were falling rapidly from his eyes.
That girl... had been his sister.
Raghav started begging. His voice cracked - desperate, ugly.
Ranbir stepped forward.
Slowly, he stepped forward. There was no emotion on his face, no anger. Just calmness-something far more terrifying than rage.
The others instinctively moved aside.
First, he removed his watch and placed it carefully on the metal table.
That small gesture made my throat go dry.
Then he rolled up his sleeves.
Raghav's breathing turned into broken gasps. "No... please..."
Ranbir crouched in front of him-not to intimidate him.
Just to look at him properly.
"You sold girls," he said quietly. "You destroyed other people's lives."
His tone never changed.
"I don't tolerate rot inside my territory."
Then suddenly, he grabbed Raghav by the throat.
Before I could process anything, Ranbir shoved his hand into the man's mouth and ripped one of his teeth out brutally. A horrifying scream tore through the room. Blood instantly covered his fingers, splattering across the white fabric of his shirt.
My legs trembled. Sweat gathered along my forehead.
Then he threw Raghav to the ground.
The next second, he grabbed him by the neck again and twisted his arm violently with raw strength.
A heavy crack echoed through the basement.
His arm was broken.
My jaw dropped slightly as sweat rolled down my neck.
I had killed many men before. But my kills were clean - one shot, one blade, target dead. I never tortured anyone. I was an assassin. My focus was always to complete the mission and eliminate the target. Nothing more.
But this...
Raghav vomited blood repeatedly, staining Ranbir's white shirt red.
Ranbir threw him to the ground again like his body weighed nothing.
And this time-
With terrifying force, he kicked his head.
The sound that followed made my stomach twist. Blood burst across the floor. Flesh scattered everywhere - even onto Ranbir's shoes.
No one could recognize who Raghav had once been.
I had seen demons before.
But tonight...
I encountered a monster.
And the irony was - I worked for him.
The most horrifying part?
I had married him.
My palms were damp. Sweat slid slowly down my spine beneath my jacket. My heartbeat felt unstable, uneven.
Nishant silently handed Ranbir a towel.
He wiped the blood from his hands and face calmly, then walked out of the room without looking back once.
How could someone like him exist as a family man? A business tycoon?
My mind couldn't process it.
I married him.
I married a monster.
The nausea hit suddenly. I rushed to the washroom and vomited. It felt like horror crawling beneath my skin.
Later, everyone gathered in the meeting room.
But my legs didn't want to move. I didn't want to stay in the same space as him.
Everyone sat down. My chair was right beside his. He leaned back lazily, head resting against the chair, eyes fixed on the ceiling as if nothing had happened downstairs.
I sat carefully. My legs trembled beneath the table.
They asked questions. I answered mechanically.
"Tell us more about that quiet man," Ranbir finally said, turning his gaze toward me.
My body shook, but I still told them everything.
"So the conclusion is Mishra is alive," he said calmly. "Aakash Singhania was never actually there. Both men were puppets. The third man is the one who blasted our sea route and factory. And the fourth man is someone new."
"Yes," Daksh added. "It was a trap. They wanted to see whether we would show up. And we reacted exactly the way they expected."
"Sending you there was our mistake," Kartik said seriously.
"We need a new plan," Reyansh muttered.
Ranbir nodded once. "For now, the meeting is over. You can leave."
Everyone stood and walked out.
I was about to stand too when suddenly his hand gripped the back of my chair.
"What?" My voice trembled slightly. I looked at him in confusion.
Why was he smiling?
"Your legs and your words are trembling," he said softly, his hand sliding onto my thigh beneath the table.
"I want to take leave, Mr. Rathor," I said quickly, standing up.
But before I could move away, his arm wrapped tightly around my waist and pulled me straight into his lap.
A sharp breath escaped me.
It happened so suddenly that my mind froze completely.
I was sitting in his lap.
I wanted to kill him for that move alone.
No.
If I made one wrong move right now, he could kill me effortlessly.
He leaned closer, his lips near my ear.
"I think we are a match," he whispered. "We'll go very far together."
Then softer-
"Be aware of me. My eyes are always on you."
Then he released me.
I stood up instantly and rushed toward the door but suddenly the world started blurring in front of my eyes.
The floor tilted and then everything went dark.
I woke up on something comfortable. It was a bed.
I was completely exhausted after the mission. During it, I had developed a severe headache, and without sleep my body had grown weak until I eventually fainted.
It was a full morning. Bright daylight streamed in through the window, hurting my eyes as I slowly opened them. The chandelier on the ceiling came into focus, and I immediately realized this wasn't the room I usually slept in.
I finally opened my eyes fully and understood-I had fainted in the farmhouse... in front of him.
"Oh, you're awake," he said casually. "Good morning, darling."
What nonsense was this?
Darling?
Since when was he calling me that?
I turned toward the voice.
He had just taken a shower, only a towel wrapped low around his waist. Water still dripped from his body, leaving the floor wet beneath his footsteps.
The first thing I did was check myself under the blanket.
I was still wearing my clothes.
I didn't trust this jerk at all. He was exactly the kind of man who would take advantage of the situation if he wanted to. My clothes still clung properly to my body exactly the way I remembered them-only my shoes were missing.
Still unconvinced, I slipped my hands beneath the blanket and quickly checked myself again, making sure every part of me was fine.
Thankfully... I was safe.
A loud laugh escaped him the moment he realized what I was doing.
I was checking myself because of him.
He came closer to the bed and leaned slightly toward me, placing both his hands on either side of me. His face was just a few inches away from my lips.
I didn't hesitate-I punched him straight on the face. The impact was solid.
A thin trail of blood appeared at the corner of his lips. But his expression didn't change at all. No pain. No reaction.
"Your anger is beautiful," he said calmly. He wiped the blood with his thumb and, without breaking eye contact, licked it-like my effort meant nothing to him, like I had only wasted my energy.
"You're getting too touchy with me," he added. "So I won't step back. Let me try something too."
I swung again, but he caught my wrist before it reached him. I immediately tried with my other hand. He stopped that one too before it could touch him.
His grip tightened so hard it felt like the blood flow in my hands was stopping.
He pulled both my wrists together and pinned them above my head against the headboard. His gaze never left me for even a second.
Then he leaned in fully over me. My legs couldn't move-he had positioned his own just enough to trap mine. His weight pressed down, and my legs started to ache, but I didn't stop struggling.
"Get away from me, you jerk," I snapped, trying to free myself from his hold.
"Careful," he said quietly. "If you keep moving... my towel might fall."
A faint smirk formed on his lips.
"Do you want to see that?"
I froze immediately and stopped moving. I had no interest in seeing him fully naked sitting on me.
Why was that bastard doing this?
One of his hands was enough to hold both of my wrists together. My wrists were thin, but not weak-yet compared to his height and strength, I looked like nothing. Like a tiny butterfly trapped in the cage of his grip.
He held both my wrists so tightly that I was sure there would be marks left behind.
He straightened his back and glanced at the ceiling, that infuriating smile still on his face-as if he was proud of himself, proud of how easily he had me restrained.
With his other hand, he grabbed my throat and lifted me slightly up. But strangely, I wasn't choking. I could still breathe, just barely-enough air to keep me conscious, but not enough to feel safe. It was controlled. Intentional. Like he was deciding exactly how far he wanted to push it.
My breath turned uneven beneath him.
"You talk too much when you're angry," he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly against my jaw.
"Why are you doing this? You want to kill me," I whispered back, glaring at him.
A faint smile touched his lips.
"That will never happen."
Before I could answer, he leaned closer. So close that I could feel his breath against my mouth.
I turned my face slightly and closed my eyes.
That only seemed to amuse him more.
His grip around my throat loosened, but his body still trapped mine completely. He cupped my cheek softly. His hand was so large it almost covered my entire face.
"Look at me," he said quietly.
"You can never calm me," I whispered.
"Look at me." His voice lowered deeper this time. "Now."
I quickly opened my eyes.
"Your eyes should never move from mine," he murmured. "Don't you dare close them again."
"I hate you," I whispered.
"No, darling," he said softly, his gaze dropping to my lips. "You just hate losing."
Then he kissed me.
Slowly. Deliberately. Like he wanted to feel every reaction I tried to hide from him.
My body tensed instantly, resisting him, but the warmth of his mouth against mine made my heartbeat lose control anyway.
The moment he pulled back slightly, I bit down hard on his lower lip.
A sharp taste of blood spread instantly between us. His blood touched my tongue, warm and metallic, mixing with my own where his lip brushed against mine again.
For a second, neither of us moved.
His eyes darkened slowly while a thin line of blood remained at the corner of his mouth.
"With blood..." he murmured against my lips, voice rougher now, "you taste more delicious."
Heat rushed violently through me. I turned my face away immediately, refusing to answer, but my burning cheeks had already betrayed me.
He opened his mouth to say something more, but suddenly his phone rang.
The sharp sound cut through the heated silence between us.
For a second, his eyes stayed on mine-as if deciding whether to ignore it or not. Then finally, he released my wrists and moved away from me.
I took a quick breath the moment his weight left my body.
He stepped toward the table and picked up the phone, answering it calmly as though nothing had just happened between us.
I quickly got up and ran toward the door, but before leaving, I grabbed the knife from my pocket and threw it at him.
He caught it without even looking-like he already knew I would do something like that. But I didn't have time to think about it. I cursed under my breath, frustrated that my attack missed its target.
I ran as fast as I could and twisted the doorknob. Locked. I tried again. Still locked. I rushed to the windows-same. They wouldn't open either.
I was trapped. There was no way out.
"The door won't open," he said.
His voice came from behind me.
I turned sharply. He had moved closer now, only in black pants.
I hadn't noticed earlier, but his body was... dangerously built-broad shoulders, defined abs, controlled strength in every step he took. Strong, sharp, and unsettlingly calm.
Every exit was locked. I shouted for guards, but no one came. Only he and I were here.
If I had to fight him to get out, I would. I didn't care if I lost or got injured-I just needed him down.
"Let me go... you psycho," I snapped.
"I'm not done yet," he said, smiling.
"I'm warning you-I will kill you," I said through clenched teeth.
"Then do it," he replied calmly.
I had no weapons now-no gun, no sword. Only one small knife left in my pocket.
Still... I would use it. I would end this right here.
My grip tightened around the knife. There was no hesitation left in me now.
I moved first.
He didn't run immediately-he only tilted his head slightly, like he was studying me. Then, as I lunged forward, he stepped aside effortlessly.
The knife sliced through empty air.
"Slow," he said calmly.
That single word snapped something inside me.
I attacked again-faster this time. He moved backward, just out of reach, letting me follow him deeper into the room.
"Stop running!" I shouted.
"I'm not running," he replied. "I'm just letting you see how predictable you are."
That made my blood boil.
I grabbed a heavy glass vase from the side table and threw it. It shattered against the wall behind him.
He didn't even flinch.
"You're destroying expensive things," he said, stepping aside as another strike missed him.
"Good," I snapped. "Maybe I'll destroy you next."
He gave a faint, almost amused breath. "Try."
I rushed again. This time I kicked a chair-it slammed into a shelf. Decorative pieces crashed down, glass and wood scattering everywhere.
He sidestepped, and I stumbled forward, knocking into another table. A lamp fell and exploded into pieces on the floor.
"Are you tired, darling?"
I gritted my teeth and charged again. I steadied myself and ran fast toward him. But my foot stepped on a decorative vase on the floor. I almost slipped, but I still managed to angle the knife toward him and slash his chest. It wasn't deep, but blood started flowing.
Why didn't he move? It would've been easy for him to dodge.
For a quiet second, I lost my balance, but he caught me by my waist, pulling me close before I could fall properly, then threw me onto a chair to steady me.
He smirked at me. The cut didn't bother him at all.
"With that, I will never die," he said, smiling. He didn't even look at the wound or wipe the blood.
I moved toward him more aggressively. He shifted back quickly. My strike missed again, and before I could turn, he grabbed my wrist and twisted it just enough to make me drop the knife.
I landed a brutal punch on him. Whatever he said, I didn't care-it was a full, hard hit.
I stopped and took a long breath.
"What about this?"
Silence hit the room for a second. He didn't answer. I tried to kick him, but he caught my leg mid-air and pushed me back onto the sofa.
Before I could stand up, he did the same as in the bedroom-grabbed both my wrists and pinned them with one hand, locking my struggle while using his legs to trap me again.
"You know you destroyed many expensive things of mine," he said.
"So what?"
"It costs a good fortune. I want it all back."
"It's happening because of you, you jerk."
"You violated our contract," he said, his tone still calm.
"What and how, Mr. creep?"
"While you are in contact with us, you cannot attack us by taking someone else's contract, and you cannot destroy our property."
"I read that file carefully before signing it. It was about business things, you idiots!"
"That farmhouse is part of business property. It's a meeting house. We sign contracts, alliances-deals happen there. Remember? We did the same with you too."
"Now you have to pay."
His voice was final. Almost too calm for someone who had just been in a fight.
I froze there, stopped struggling, and stared at him-my chest rising and falling unevenly. My eyes slowly scanned the room again: broken glass, shattered vases, ruined furniture, pieces of luxury scattered everywhere like evidence of chaos.
My confidence faltered for a fraction of a second.
Where was all this luxury coming from?
This place didn't even look like this before. It had been almost empty-minimal furniture, nothing close to this level of richness.
"You tricked me," I said quietly.
A faint smile appeared on his face. "So what? It still changes nothing."
He bent closer to my lips, his voice lowering slightly. "But since I've fallen for you, I'll give you a way out."
His eyes locked on mine.
"Pay for it."
There was no way I could pay for this. I didn't even have that kind of money. I couldn't even recover half of it.
"I..." My voice trembled. "I can't pay."
"Hmmm. Then you can pay me in another way," he said with a slow smile.
With his other hand, he held my waist firmly, his fingers slowly sliding beneath my jean.
"By doing whatever I say," he murmured calmly, like the decision had already been made for me.
"What do you want?" I gritted through my teeth. "You want to fuck me?"
A quiet laugh left him.
"No. I will never do that until you're ready," he said smoothly. "But I may want you to strip."
My whole body burned at his words.
"Relax. Right now..." his gaze moved slowly over my face, "I just want to see you. See your face fully."
Then he finally got off my body.
"No. Stop this," I shouted at him immediately.
"You don't have a choice, sweetheart."
Slowly, I shrugged off my jacket.
It slid down my arms and fell silently onto the floor.
His eyes never left me for even a second.
I reached for the edge of my cap with slightly trembling fingers and pulled it off slowly. My hair loosened instantly, falling around my shoulders. I pushed my long bangs behind my ears, fully uncovering my face for the first time in front of him.
He just stared at me like he had found something he already wanted before even seeing it.
My throat tightened under his gaze. "Stop staring."
"You act like you've never seen a woman before," I said.
"No," he replied calmly, taking one slow step closer. "I've seen many."
A faint smile appeared on his lips.
"But none that made me want to look this long."
Heat rushed into my cheeks. I hated how easily my body reacted to him.
"Shameless," I muttered.
"You finally got what you wanted," I said quietly, avoiding his eyes. "Now move."
Instead of answering, he reached toward me slowly. I stiffened instantly, but all he did was brush a strand of hair away from my face. His fingers barely touched my skin.
"Such a pretty face an assassin has," he murmured softly.
My heartbeat stumbled again.
He walked toward the door before I could say anything else and unlocked it himself.
Then he stepped aside, freeing the way for me.
His eyes locked onto mine one last time.
"Now I'm more interested than before."
I quickly grabbed my jacket from the floor and walked past him toward the door.
But just before I crossed it completely, his voice stopped me.
"Velvet Viper."
I paused.
"You should hide your face more carefully next time," he said softly behind me. "I don't want someone else becoming obsessed with you."
I sat on the rooftop of a small apartment building, the cold concrete beneath me and the bright morning sky stretched endlessly above while the soft wind brushed through my hair.
For the first time since leaving him, everything was quiet.
I pulled my knees closer and stared ahead without really seeing anything. My mind kept returning to him again and again.
I had attacked him. Tried to hurt him. Yet deep inside... I knew I had held back.
I hadn't used the strength I used on real targets-the lethal skills no one survives from. Every move against him had slowed at the last second because somewhere inside me, my heart had trembled.
How could I kill him?
He was my husband.
Even if he was impossible to understand... I still loved his family. And somehow, despite everything, something inside me had started softening around him too.
That terrified me.
Because feelings create hesitation.
I closed my eyes slowly.
What if one day I truly had to choose between my life and him?
For the first time since becoming an assassin, I felt a fear greater than death itself-
I was afraid my husband might one day become my enemy.
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