03-02-2026, 11:03 PM
(This post was last modified: 03-02-2026, 11:05 PM by Harry Jordan. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
(CHAPTER CONTD)
ONE FINE DAY
Hemant was working in his office when he recieved an unexpected call from Priyanka.
"Priyanka , Good Morning!"
"Hemant , can you come here at Quadron , its an emergency!"
"What happened?"
"Please come here , I need to tell you in person!"
"Okay I am on my way!"
Hemant didn't waste a minute and immediately called Raquel to escort him in his BMW. Quadron Technologies still looked the same. Glass walls. Silver signage. IT chaos disguised as innovation. For a moment, as Hemant stepped through the revolving doors, it felt like time had folded in on itself. This was where he had once been a simple man with talent and ambition—burying the legends, blood, and ghosts to build something normal. Now it was ironic.
He wore a simple blazer over a dark shirt. No extravagance. No arrogance. Yet people noticed. They always did. Confidence had a gravity. The receptionist barely had time to announce him before security escorted him upstairs. The CEO’s office. When Hemant entered, he stopped. Sandeep was there.
Leaning casually near the window. Expensive watch. Careless posture. The son of the owner. Entitled. Untouchable—until he wasn’t. Priyanka sat behind her desk, shoulders slumped, eyes red. Papers lay scattered, forgotten.
"Priyanka?" Hemant asked softly.
"What happened?"
She looked up, relief and fear colliding on her face.
"Thank God you came" she whispered.
"Talk to me" He walked closer.
She took a breath.
"Yesterday… Sandeep hosted a party. Big one. Corporate elites"
Sandeep straightened.
"I invited Disha because she deserved to shine" he cut in quickly.
"She’s talented. I wanted people to notice her"
Hemant glanced at him once—silent, assessing. Priyanka continued, voice trembling.
"She did get noticed. By Jignesh Yadav. Son of an MP from up north"
"The guy was drunk. Started touching her. Saying disgusting things"
Sandeep clenched his jaw. Hemant’s fingers tightened slightly.
"She told him to stop" Sandeep said.
"He didn’t. So… she slapped him."
A pause.
"He lost it," Priyanka whispered.
"Threatened her. Said she’d regret it."
"Then what?" Hemant’s voice was calm.
Priyanka swallowed.
"This morning… she was entering the office. Two cars stopped and a bunch of men forced her inside the vehicle and drove off. Our security guards could overpower them"
"It was definitely Yadav's men Hemant. He has influence over some of the small gangs in the city"
Sandeep nodded grimly. The room felt colder.
"I filed a report.....law enforcement are looking. But… you know how this works. Political pressure…"
Her voice cracked. Priyanka added quickly.
"Meghna went after them" she said.
"She took Disha's scooty and just… left. She was furious"
Hemant closed his eyes for half a second.
Disha. Young. Bright. Fearless. Someone who didn’t deserve to be collateral in brutal men's games. When he opened his eyes again, something had changed. The warmth was gone. The gentleness was gone.
The man took a step back and the Archangel stepped in!
And now , Hemant was becoming Michael again , embracing his past , his brutality to push himself again. His breathing calmed and the grim predatory eagle took over.
"Nothing will happen to her" Hemant said.
His voice was low. Absolute.
"Hemant—" Priyanka looked up.
"I said" he repeated softly.
"Nothing will happen to her."
Sandeep felt it then. The shift. The air seemed heavier. Hemant’s eyes weren’t just anger. They were flames of Vengeance. Like a judge who had already decided the sentence.
"Some people need to reminded....just whoes Kingdom this is!" Hemant stated.
He turned toward the door.
"Hemant" Priyanka called.
"What are you going to do?"
He paused. Didn’t look back.
"I'll find Disha , bring her back. Expect her in the office tomorrow like usual!"
And he walked out. Sandeep exhaled shakily. He had seen powerful men before. But this? This was different. Hemant was different. He was watching the legend that his father used to say come to life right before his eyes. At that moment there was no fear , just pity , for Yadav
This was a predator remembering how to hunt. Somewhere in Mumbai, Jignesh Yadav was about to learn a lesson no influence could erase.
Because the eagle had descended. And it was hungry.
![[Image: VcS9syLH]](https://ibb.co/VcS9syLH)
https://i.ibb.co/Q3NQ4BJ8/Eagle11.gif
FEW HOURS LATER NEAR POWAI LAKE
The abandoned factory near Powai Dam had become a graveyard of rust and rot.
Broken chimneys stabbed at the sky. Cracked windows stared like blind eyes. The lake nearby reflected sunlight. Wind pushed through shattered walls, carrying the smell of oil, algae, and old crime.
It was the perfect place for monsters.
Inside the main hall, beneath the ruined industrial roofs, Disha and Meghna were trapped.
Meghna stood in front of her like a shield, fists clenched, clothes torn, face bruised—but still unbroken. Jignesh Yadav circled them, laughing.
"You think you’re brave?" he sneered.
Meghna swung. He blocked and slammed his fist into her ribs. She gasped. Another punch. Her lip split open, blood dripping down her chin. Disha screamed.
"Stop! Please, stop! I’ll do whatever you want—just don’t hurt her!"
"Please… just submit. Don’t let him kill you" She grabbed Meghna’s arm, crying.
Meghna wiped blood from her mouth, eyes burning.
"Never" she spat.
Yadav smiled cruelly.
"Oh, I’m hurting you anyway" he said.
"My boys are coming. And when they get here… we’ll have a buffet"
Disha froze. Meghna’s fists trembled with rage. Then—Sounds of engines rumbled. Multiple. Fast. Approaching.
"Ahh… finally" Yadav’s face lit up.
Headlights flooded the compound. Two black Mahindra Scorpios charged through the compound. Leading them—A green 2003 BMW E39 M5 screamed in and skidded sideways, stopping dead in a cloud of dust.
![[Image: Powai-Factory.jpg]](https://i.ibb.co/x81D6ckD/Powai-Factory.jpg)
The doors flew open. Men poured out. Not thugs. Soldiers. Automatic rifles cracked. Not a single shot was fatal. Every bullet slammed into knees, thighs, calves. Goons dropped screaming. The second wave followed—projectile stun guns fired. Blue arcs of electricity lit the night. Bodies stiffened and collapsed. Two massive men rushed in next, batons swinging, crushing anyone still standing. Chaos. Precision. Fear.
From the BMW, Raquel stepped out, USP pistol in hand, suppressor gleaming. He checked the perimeter once—Then opened the rear door. Hemant Kumar stepped out. Razor sharp. Like an Apex Predator. Deadly. The squad immediately formed around him, weapons raised, creating a moving shield. They advanced. Step by step. No rush. No hesitation. Toward the sealed iron door at the far end of the factory.
Behind it—Disha. Meghna. Yadav.
Hemant stopped.
"Charges!" he said.
Raquel nodded. Charges were planted. Timer set. They retreated.
Three. Two. One.
The explosion ripped through the night. Metal folded. Concrete shattered. Dust and fire burst outward. Inside, everyone was thrown to the ground. Ears rang. Vision blurred. Yadav coughed, trying to stand. Disha and Meghna clung to each other, shaking.
Then—Footsteps. Slow. Heavy. Through the smoke. Through falling debris. A silhouette emerged. Tall. Unstoppable. Hemant walked out of the rubble like judgment incarnate. Dust covered his blazer. His eyes burned through it. Disha stared.
"Boss?" she whispered.
Meghna couldn’t speak. Disha's mild-mannered former boss? No longer exists. He was precise , razor sharp and full on ruthless This was someone else. Yadav staggered back.
"W-Who the hell are you?!"
Hemant didn’t answer. Yadav screamed and charged. Big mistake. Hemant shifted. Deflected the punch. Elbow to the throat. Knee to the stomach. Spin kick to the ribs. Crack. Yadav flew into a pillar.
Before he could breathe—Hemant was on him. Fists like hammers. Kicks like whips. Every move perfect. Kung Fu fluidity. Kickboxing brutality. Military efficiency. No wasted motion. No mercy. Disha covered her mouth.
"Oh my God…..wow"
Hemant slammed Yadav into the ground. Once. Twice. Final punch. Silence. Yadav lay broken, blood pooling beneath him. Hemant straightened.
"Raquel" he said calmly.
"Call an ambulance"
"Yes, Bhaijaan"
"Put the bills on my account"
"Of course" Raquel smiled slightly.
Hemant walked to the girls. He knelt. Helped Meghna up first. Then Disha. She was trembling. He gently brushed her hair back.
"You’re safe now" he said softly.
Her heart nearly exploded. She nodded, unable to speak. Meghna stared at him.
"Who… who are you?" she whispered.
Hemant gave a small, tired smile.
"Someone who looks after his people"
He led them toward the BMW. Behind them, sirens approached. Ahead of them—Freedom. And for Disha, one undeniable truth had been burned into her heart forever:
Her boss wasn’t just powerful. He was legendary.
AT MEGHNA'S APARTMENT
The apartment was quiet now.
Too quiet.
Mumbai’s chaos stayed outside, muffled by glass and distance. Inside, only soft breathing and the occasional hum of traffic broke the silence. Meghna sat on the edge of her bed, back against the headboard, shirt loosened to expose minor bruises and darkening skin. A lamp cast warm light over the room. Hemant knelt in front of her with a medical kit. Cotton. Antiseptic. Bandages.
His hands were steady as he cleaned the cut on her lip.
"Hold still" he said quietly.
She did. But she couldn’t stop staring. This man—this version of him—didn’t fit any memory she had. Not the calm employee of Quadron. Not the loser husband of Sonarika. Not the cowering fat man he once was. This was someone else.
Finally, she spoke.
"Wow...you really changed haven't you?" Meghna asked softly.
"I don’t even recognize the old you anymore"
Hemant didn’t look up.
"I didn’t change Meghna" he replied.
He taped the bandage gently.
"You simply brought me back to who I was"
That made her blink.
"What?"
He finally met her eyes.
"I don’t know whether to thank you...or punish you for wrecking my marriage" he said slowly,
Her face drained of color.
"H-Hemant—"
He smiled. Not warm. Not cruel. Something in between. She froze.
"I know the role you played" he continued calmly.
"In Sonarika and Vikram’s little love story. The messages. The ‘coincidental’ meetings. The advice. You invisible presence in their conversations and bondings. One can argue that you were a "facilitator" of sorts... "
Meghna looked like a deer caught in headlights. He stood up.
"And I know you have no good intentions regarding Sonarika. That you're targeting her for something. For whatever twisted reason you have"
He walked closer.
"But listen carefully" he said quietly.
"I don’t care about Sonarika anymore. She’s a closed chapter. Whatever conflict you two have going on , I have no interest or intention to be involved with it!"
Meghna swallowed.
"But Karan and Anjali… are not part of that conflict!"
Hemant continued, voice sharpening, He leaned down, eyes locking with hers.
"So this is me telling you , leave them out of your games. If even a scratch appears on either of them"
He whispered
"You’ll learn what real revenge feels like"
A chill ran through her.
"There is a lot you don't know about me Meghna , in a way we're both in a similar path. But right now my family matters to me. I’ve had my heart broken before"
He went on.
"More than once. Sonarika wasn’t the first."
He straightened.
"But she’ll be the last."
Meghna’s body trembled.
"I’ve dealt with women like you before."
His eyes darkened.
"And I enjoyed destroying them…piece by piece"
Her breath hitched.
"Leave me and my family out of your games" he warned.
"Or I’ll turn you into ashes"
Silence hung between them. Then his expression softened—just slightly.mBefore she could respond, he leaned in. And kissed her. Hard. Deep. Unapologetic. For a moment, she forgot how to breathe. When he pulled away, her lips were trembling.
"Heal well" he said simply.
And walked out. In the living room, Disha sat curled on the couch, blanket wrapped around her shoulders, eyes red from crying. She looked up when Hemant entered.
"Boss…"
He sat beside her.
"You’re safe, It’s over" he said gently.
"I… I was so scared…" Her voice cracked.
He placed a hand on her shoulder.
"I know, But no one will ever mess with you again" he said.
His eyes softened.
"Because you’re my girl."
Her heart skipped.
"M-My… what?"
He didn’t answer. He leaned in. And kissed her. Slow. Warm. Certain. Her mind went blank. When he pulled back, she was breathless, stunned, glowing.
"Sex is the best way to heal wounds," he said casually.
She stared at him. He smirked.
"Your lipstick...tastes like raspberry punch" he added.
She blinked.
"I prefer cranberry twist!"
He said lightly. Then he stood and walked away. Leaving her frozen in place
The taste of his lips still burned on hers. That’s all Meghna could think about, her fingers brushing the bandage on her cheekbone, her body humming with a strange, electric shock. The door clicked shut. Disha stood there, silhouetted against the living room light, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
"He’s gone" Disha whispered, her voice thick.
Meghna nodded, unable to form words. The image of Hemant—calm, methodical, applying antiseptic with a tenderness that contradicted the violence she’d just witnessed—played on a loop in her mind. Then, the kiss. Possessive. Promising. It had short-circuited her brain.
Disha took a step into the bedroom. Her eyes were wide, dark pools of stunned arousal. Disha’s gaze dropped to Meghna’s bruised face, then traveled down her body. A shiver, hot and undeniable, shot through Meghna’s core. Before Meghna could process the insanity of the statement, Disha’s hands went to the hem of her own blouse. In one fluid, desperate motion, she pulled it over her head. The maroon lace of her bra cupped her full breasts, the peaks already hard against the delicate fabric.
"Disha, what are you—?"
The question was swallowed as Disha crossed the room in two strides and crashed her mouth onto Meghna’s. It wasn’t a gentle exploration. It was a claiming. A shared hunger. Raspberry lipstick—the same flavor Hemant had identified—smudged between them, a sweet, tangy stain. Meghna gasped into the kiss, her hands flying up, not to push away, but to tangle in Disha’s silken hair. The shock melted into a surge of pure, molten need. He did this. He lit this fuse.
Clothes became obstacles. Fingers fumbled with buttons, zippers, hooks. A soft whimper escaped Disha as her bra fell away, her breasts pressing against Meghna’s. Skin met fevered skin. They tumbled onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and frantic energy. Meghna’s hands slid down Disha’s back, over the curve of her ass, pulling her closer. Disha’s thigh slipped between Meghna’s legs, applying a delicious, immediate pressure that made Meghna cry out.
"He kissed me Meghna...Boss kissed me!" Disha moaned.
"He kissed me too" Meghna panted, breaking the kiss to trail her mouth down Disha’s throat.
"What has he become?"
Disha arched her back, grinding against Meghna’s thigh.
"I don’t care. I just want to feel what my master made us feel"
Her hand snaked down, fingers slipping through Meghna’s wetness with no preamble. Meghna gasped, her hips bucking. Yes. Exactly. She returned the favor, her own fingers finding Disha’s soaked core. They moved in a frantic, mirrored rhythm, each stroke a question answered by a gasp, a moan.
"He tasted me" Disha moaned, her head thrashing on the pillow.
"Said my lipstick was raspberry....mmhmmm..."
Her fingers curled inside Meghna, hitting a spot that made stars burst behind her eyelids.
"He’s not…mmhmm......he’s not that same loser husband of Sonarika anymore..mhmm!!"
Meghna managed, her own fingers working Disha into a shuddering frenzy. The scbang of her short nails against Disha’s inner walls drew a sharp, pleasured cry. The scent of their mutual arousal filled the room, musky and sweet.
"Switch"
Disha commanded this time, her voice husky with lust. They moved in a fluid, desperate dance, rearranging themselves until Meghna was hovering over Disha’s mouth, and Disha’s own was buried between Meghna’s thighs. The first hot, wet swipe of Disha’s tongue made Meghna’s knees buckle. She returned the favor, diving into Disha’s sweetness, the taste exploding on her tongue—tangy, salty, perfect. The sixty-nine was less about technique and more about devouring, about losing themselves in the sensation he had awakened.
They rode the wave until they were breathless, slick with sweat and saliva, and then collapsed side-by-side, legs instinctively intertwining. Their soaked, swollen folds pressed together. Meghna hooked one leg over Disha’s hip, and Disha did the same, locking them in a tight, intimate scissor. They began to rock. A slow, deep grind that quickly escalated.
"Uhhmm....The way he moved....mhmmm....ommm.."
Meghna hissed, her clitoris rubbing exquisitely against Disha’s with each thrust.
"Like a fucking action hero.....mmmhmm....I’ve never seen anything like it"
"I have" Disha breathed, her eyes squeezed shut.
"In my dreams. For months....ahhh....mmm...he has done things with me in my dreams that even the best pornstars would feel like catching up....mmm.....uhmm"
Her hips pistoned harder, driving their sexes together in a wet, rhythmic slap.
"I want to submit to him. Completely"
"Submit?" Meghna’s rhythm faltered for a second, stunned by the raw hunger in the confession.
"Yes" Disha moaned, her voice breaking.
"I want to be his bitch. His personal slut. His whore. I want him to use me. To make me his cum dump. I want to wear his marks, drink his cum, choke on his cock until I see stars"
The vulgarity, the sheer abject desire of it, sent a new jolt of heat straight to Meghna’s core. Her own grinding became frantic.
"You’re insane Disha...mmm.......his wife left him for another man....mm...maybe he’s not….you know…..mhmm....a disappointment down there"
Disha let out a sharp, incredulous laugh, even as her body trembled on the edge.
"Uhm....hmm...you didn’t see the Fitness Guru shoot few days ago.....the gym shorts....that clean outline....it has been imprinted on my brain mhmm......Oh god, right there!"
She cried out as Meghna hit a particularly good angle.
"They left nothing to the imagination. He’s packing, Meghna. He’s a fucking god. And I want to worship him"
The visual—Hemant, sculpted and powerful, a clear outline of his thick meat—coupled with Disha’s desperate, submissive litany, was the final trigger. Meghna’s thoughts dissolved into a white-hot void. Her back arched violently off the bed. A guttural, raw scream was torn from her throat as her orgasm detonated, a torrent of release soaking their tangled thighs and the sheets beneath them. At the same moment, Disha’s body locked, her own cry echoing Meghna’s as she squirted, a hot rush joining Meghna’s on the ruined sheets.
For long minutes, there was only the sound of ragged breathing. They lay in the wreckage, limbs still loosely entwined, slick with the evidence of their shared climax. The air was thick with sex and salt and sweat.
Meghna’s mind, blissfully empty for a moment, slowly refilled. Not with the fear from earlier, or the shock. With him. Hemant’s calm eyes. His hard fists. His demanding kiss. The taste of him was gone from her lips, replaced by Disha and their own passion, but the imprint of him was seared into her nerves.
Disha and Meghna found comfort in each other. No words. No plans. Just warmth, closeness, and the quiet need to feel alive again. The world outside disappeared. And when they finally lay tangled in messy sheets, breathing slow and tired, both stared at the ceiling in silence. Both thinking of the same man. For Disha—He was no longer just her boss. He was her hero. Her fantasy. Her impossible dream now possible , and more than that her reality of submission to him.
For Meghna—He was admiration… mixed with fear. Because she now understood something terrifying. She hadn’t created a broken man. She had awakened a force of nature!
(TO BE CONTD)
Hemant was working in his office when he recieved an unexpected call from Priyanka.
"Priyanka , Good Morning!"
"Hemant , can you come here at Quadron , its an emergency!"
"What happened?"
"Please come here , I need to tell you in person!"
"Okay I am on my way!"
Hemant didn't waste a minute and immediately called Raquel to escort him in his BMW. Quadron Technologies still looked the same. Glass walls. Silver signage. IT chaos disguised as innovation. For a moment, as Hemant stepped through the revolving doors, it felt like time had folded in on itself. This was where he had once been a simple man with talent and ambition—burying the legends, blood, and ghosts to build something normal. Now it was ironic.
He wore a simple blazer over a dark shirt. No extravagance. No arrogance. Yet people noticed. They always did. Confidence had a gravity. The receptionist barely had time to announce him before security escorted him upstairs. The CEO’s office. When Hemant entered, he stopped. Sandeep was there.
Leaning casually near the window. Expensive watch. Careless posture. The son of the owner. Entitled. Untouchable—until he wasn’t. Priyanka sat behind her desk, shoulders slumped, eyes red. Papers lay scattered, forgotten.
"Priyanka?" Hemant asked softly.
"What happened?"
She looked up, relief and fear colliding on her face.
"Thank God you came" she whispered.
"Talk to me" He walked closer.
She took a breath.
"Yesterday… Sandeep hosted a party. Big one. Corporate elites"
Sandeep straightened.
"I invited Disha because she deserved to shine" he cut in quickly.
"She’s talented. I wanted people to notice her"
Hemant glanced at him once—silent, assessing. Priyanka continued, voice trembling.
"She did get noticed. By Jignesh Yadav. Son of an MP from up north"
"The guy was drunk. Started touching her. Saying disgusting things"
Sandeep clenched his jaw. Hemant’s fingers tightened slightly.
"She told him to stop" Sandeep said.
"He didn’t. So… she slapped him."
A pause.
"He lost it," Priyanka whispered.
"Threatened her. Said she’d regret it."
"Then what?" Hemant’s voice was calm.
Priyanka swallowed.
"This morning… she was entering the office. Two cars stopped and a bunch of men forced her inside the vehicle and drove off. Our security guards could overpower them"
"It was definitely Yadav's men Hemant. He has influence over some of the small gangs in the city"
Sandeep nodded grimly. The room felt colder.
"I filed a report.....law enforcement are looking. But… you know how this works. Political pressure…"
Her voice cracked. Priyanka added quickly.
"Meghna went after them" she said.
"She took Disha's scooty and just… left. She was furious"
Hemant closed his eyes for half a second.
Disha. Young. Bright. Fearless. Someone who didn’t deserve to be collateral in brutal men's games. When he opened his eyes again, something had changed. The warmth was gone. The gentleness was gone.
The man took a step back and the Archangel stepped in!
And now , Hemant was becoming Michael again , embracing his past , his brutality to push himself again. His breathing calmed and the grim predatory eagle took over.
"Nothing will happen to her" Hemant said.
His voice was low. Absolute.
"Hemant—" Priyanka looked up.
"I said" he repeated softly.
"Nothing will happen to her."
Sandeep felt it then. The shift. The air seemed heavier. Hemant’s eyes weren’t just anger. They were flames of Vengeance. Like a judge who had already decided the sentence.
"Some people need to reminded....just whoes Kingdom this is!" Hemant stated.
He turned toward the door.
"Hemant" Priyanka called.
"What are you going to do?"
He paused. Didn’t look back.
"I'll find Disha , bring her back. Expect her in the office tomorrow like usual!"
And he walked out. Sandeep exhaled shakily. He had seen powerful men before. But this? This was different. Hemant was different. He was watching the legend that his father used to say come to life right before his eyes. At that moment there was no fear , just pity , for Yadav
This was a predator remembering how to hunt. Somewhere in Mumbai, Jignesh Yadav was about to learn a lesson no influence could erase.
Because the eagle had descended. And it was hungry.
FEW HOURS LATER NEAR POWAI LAKE
The abandoned factory near Powai Dam had become a graveyard of rust and rot.
Broken chimneys stabbed at the sky. Cracked windows stared like blind eyes. The lake nearby reflected sunlight. Wind pushed through shattered walls, carrying the smell of oil, algae, and old crime.
It was the perfect place for monsters.
Inside the main hall, beneath the ruined industrial roofs, Disha and Meghna were trapped.
Meghna stood in front of her like a shield, fists clenched, clothes torn, face bruised—but still unbroken. Jignesh Yadav circled them, laughing.
"You think you’re brave?" he sneered.
Meghna swung. He blocked and slammed his fist into her ribs. She gasped. Another punch. Her lip split open, blood dripping down her chin. Disha screamed.
"Stop! Please, stop! I’ll do whatever you want—just don’t hurt her!"
"Please… just submit. Don’t let him kill you" She grabbed Meghna’s arm, crying.
Meghna wiped blood from her mouth, eyes burning.
"Never" she spat.
Yadav smiled cruelly.
"Oh, I’m hurting you anyway" he said.
"My boys are coming. And when they get here… we’ll have a buffet"
Disha froze. Meghna’s fists trembled with rage. Then—Sounds of engines rumbled. Multiple. Fast. Approaching.
"Ahh… finally" Yadav’s face lit up.
Headlights flooded the compound. Two black Mahindra Scorpios charged through the compound. Leading them—A green 2003 BMW E39 M5 screamed in and skidded sideways, stopping dead in a cloud of dust.
The doors flew open. Men poured out. Not thugs. Soldiers. Automatic rifles cracked. Not a single shot was fatal. Every bullet slammed into knees, thighs, calves. Goons dropped screaming. The second wave followed—projectile stun guns fired. Blue arcs of electricity lit the night. Bodies stiffened and collapsed. Two massive men rushed in next, batons swinging, crushing anyone still standing. Chaos. Precision. Fear.
From the BMW, Raquel stepped out, USP pistol in hand, suppressor gleaming. He checked the perimeter once—Then opened the rear door. Hemant Kumar stepped out. Razor sharp. Like an Apex Predator. Deadly. The squad immediately formed around him, weapons raised, creating a moving shield. They advanced. Step by step. No rush. No hesitation. Toward the sealed iron door at the far end of the factory.
Behind it—Disha. Meghna. Yadav.
Hemant stopped.
"Charges!" he said.
Raquel nodded. Charges were planted. Timer set. They retreated.
Three. Two. One.
The explosion ripped through the night. Metal folded. Concrete shattered. Dust and fire burst outward. Inside, everyone was thrown to the ground. Ears rang. Vision blurred. Yadav coughed, trying to stand. Disha and Meghna clung to each other, shaking.
Then—Footsteps. Slow. Heavy. Through the smoke. Through falling debris. A silhouette emerged. Tall. Unstoppable. Hemant walked out of the rubble like judgment incarnate. Dust covered his blazer. His eyes burned through it. Disha stared.
"Boss?" she whispered.
Meghna couldn’t speak. Disha's mild-mannered former boss? No longer exists. He was precise , razor sharp and full on ruthless This was someone else. Yadav staggered back.
"W-Who the hell are you?!"
Hemant didn’t answer. Yadav screamed and charged. Big mistake. Hemant shifted. Deflected the punch. Elbow to the throat. Knee to the stomach. Spin kick to the ribs. Crack. Yadav flew into a pillar.
Before he could breathe—Hemant was on him. Fists like hammers. Kicks like whips. Every move perfect. Kung Fu fluidity. Kickboxing brutality. Military efficiency. No wasted motion. No mercy. Disha covered her mouth.
"Oh my God…..wow"
Hemant slammed Yadav into the ground. Once. Twice. Final punch. Silence. Yadav lay broken, blood pooling beneath him. Hemant straightened.
"Raquel" he said calmly.
"Call an ambulance"
"Yes, Bhaijaan"
"Put the bills on my account"
"Of course" Raquel smiled slightly.
Hemant walked to the girls. He knelt. Helped Meghna up first. Then Disha. She was trembling. He gently brushed her hair back.
"You’re safe now" he said softly.
Her heart nearly exploded. She nodded, unable to speak. Meghna stared at him.
"Who… who are you?" she whispered.
Hemant gave a small, tired smile.
"Someone who looks after his people"
He led them toward the BMW. Behind them, sirens approached. Ahead of them—Freedom. And for Disha, one undeniable truth had been burned into her heart forever:
Her boss wasn’t just powerful. He was legendary.
AT MEGHNA'S APARTMENT
The apartment was quiet now.
Too quiet.
Mumbai’s chaos stayed outside, muffled by glass and distance. Inside, only soft breathing and the occasional hum of traffic broke the silence. Meghna sat on the edge of her bed, back against the headboard, shirt loosened to expose minor bruises and darkening skin. A lamp cast warm light over the room. Hemant knelt in front of her with a medical kit. Cotton. Antiseptic. Bandages.
His hands were steady as he cleaned the cut on her lip.
"Hold still" he said quietly.
She did. But she couldn’t stop staring. This man—this version of him—didn’t fit any memory she had. Not the calm employee of Quadron. Not the loser husband of Sonarika. Not the cowering fat man he once was. This was someone else.
Finally, she spoke.
"Wow...you really changed haven't you?" Meghna asked softly.
"I don’t even recognize the old you anymore"
Hemant didn’t look up.
"I didn’t change Meghna" he replied.
He taped the bandage gently.
"You simply brought me back to who I was"
That made her blink.
"What?"
He finally met her eyes.
"I don’t know whether to thank you...or punish you for wrecking my marriage" he said slowly,
Her face drained of color.
"H-Hemant—"
He smiled. Not warm. Not cruel. Something in between. She froze.
"I know the role you played" he continued calmly.
"In Sonarika and Vikram’s little love story. The messages. The ‘coincidental’ meetings. The advice. You invisible presence in their conversations and bondings. One can argue that you were a "facilitator" of sorts... "
Meghna looked like a deer caught in headlights. He stood up.
"And I know you have no good intentions regarding Sonarika. That you're targeting her for something. For whatever twisted reason you have"
He walked closer.
"But listen carefully" he said quietly.
"I don’t care about Sonarika anymore. She’s a closed chapter. Whatever conflict you two have going on , I have no interest or intention to be involved with it!"
Meghna swallowed.
"But Karan and Anjali… are not part of that conflict!"
Hemant continued, voice sharpening, He leaned down, eyes locking with hers.
"So this is me telling you , leave them out of your games. If even a scratch appears on either of them"
He whispered
"You’ll learn what real revenge feels like"
A chill ran through her.
"There is a lot you don't know about me Meghna , in a way we're both in a similar path. But right now my family matters to me. I’ve had my heart broken before"
He went on.
"More than once. Sonarika wasn’t the first."
He straightened.
"But she’ll be the last."
Meghna’s body trembled.
"I’ve dealt with women like you before."
His eyes darkened.
"And I enjoyed destroying them…piece by piece"
Her breath hitched.
"Leave me and my family out of your games" he warned.
"Or I’ll turn you into ashes"
Silence hung between them. Then his expression softened—just slightly.mBefore she could respond, he leaned in. And kissed her. Hard. Deep. Unapologetic. For a moment, she forgot how to breathe. When he pulled away, her lips were trembling.
"Heal well" he said simply.
And walked out. In the living room, Disha sat curled on the couch, blanket wrapped around her shoulders, eyes red from crying. She looked up when Hemant entered.
"Boss…"
He sat beside her.
"You’re safe, It’s over" he said gently.
"I… I was so scared…" Her voice cracked.
He placed a hand on her shoulder.
"I know, But no one will ever mess with you again" he said.
His eyes softened.
"Because you’re my girl."
Her heart skipped.
"M-My… what?"
He didn’t answer. He leaned in. And kissed her. Slow. Warm. Certain. Her mind went blank. When he pulled back, she was breathless, stunned, glowing.
"Sex is the best way to heal wounds," he said casually.
She stared at him. He smirked.
"Your lipstick...tastes like raspberry punch" he added.
She blinked.
"I prefer cranberry twist!"
He said lightly. Then he stood and walked away. Leaving her frozen in place
The taste of his lips still burned on hers. That’s all Meghna could think about, her fingers brushing the bandage on her cheekbone, her body humming with a strange, electric shock. The door clicked shut. Disha stood there, silhouetted against the living room light, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
"He’s gone" Disha whispered, her voice thick.
Meghna nodded, unable to form words. The image of Hemant—calm, methodical, applying antiseptic with a tenderness that contradicted the violence she’d just witnessed—played on a loop in her mind. Then, the kiss. Possessive. Promising. It had short-circuited her brain.
Disha took a step into the bedroom. Her eyes were wide, dark pools of stunned arousal. Disha’s gaze dropped to Meghna’s bruised face, then traveled down her body. A shiver, hot and undeniable, shot through Meghna’s core. Before Meghna could process the insanity of the statement, Disha’s hands went to the hem of her own blouse. In one fluid, desperate motion, she pulled it over her head. The maroon lace of her bra cupped her full breasts, the peaks already hard against the delicate fabric.
"Disha, what are you—?"
The question was swallowed as Disha crossed the room in two strides and crashed her mouth onto Meghna’s. It wasn’t a gentle exploration. It was a claiming. A shared hunger. Raspberry lipstick—the same flavor Hemant had identified—smudged between them, a sweet, tangy stain. Meghna gasped into the kiss, her hands flying up, not to push away, but to tangle in Disha’s silken hair. The shock melted into a surge of pure, molten need. He did this. He lit this fuse.
Clothes became obstacles. Fingers fumbled with buttons, zippers, hooks. A soft whimper escaped Disha as her bra fell away, her breasts pressing against Meghna’s. Skin met fevered skin. They tumbled onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and frantic energy. Meghna’s hands slid down Disha’s back, over the curve of her ass, pulling her closer. Disha’s thigh slipped between Meghna’s legs, applying a delicious, immediate pressure that made Meghna cry out.
"He kissed me Meghna...Boss kissed me!" Disha moaned.
"He kissed me too" Meghna panted, breaking the kiss to trail her mouth down Disha’s throat.
"What has he become?"
Disha arched her back, grinding against Meghna’s thigh.
"I don’t care. I just want to feel what my master made us feel"
Her hand snaked down, fingers slipping through Meghna’s wetness with no preamble. Meghna gasped, her hips bucking. Yes. Exactly. She returned the favor, her own fingers finding Disha’s soaked core. They moved in a frantic, mirrored rhythm, each stroke a question answered by a gasp, a moan.
"He tasted me" Disha moaned, her head thrashing on the pillow.
"Said my lipstick was raspberry....mmhmmm..."
Her fingers curled inside Meghna, hitting a spot that made stars burst behind her eyelids.
"He’s not…mmhmm......he’s not that same loser husband of Sonarika anymore..mhmm!!"
Meghna managed, her own fingers working Disha into a shuddering frenzy. The scbang of her short nails against Disha’s inner walls drew a sharp, pleasured cry. The scent of their mutual arousal filled the room, musky and sweet.
"Switch"
Disha commanded this time, her voice husky with lust. They moved in a fluid, desperate dance, rearranging themselves until Meghna was hovering over Disha’s mouth, and Disha’s own was buried between Meghna’s thighs. The first hot, wet swipe of Disha’s tongue made Meghna’s knees buckle. She returned the favor, diving into Disha’s sweetness, the taste exploding on her tongue—tangy, salty, perfect. The sixty-nine was less about technique and more about devouring, about losing themselves in the sensation he had awakened.
They rode the wave until they were breathless, slick with sweat and saliva, and then collapsed side-by-side, legs instinctively intertwining. Their soaked, swollen folds pressed together. Meghna hooked one leg over Disha’s hip, and Disha did the same, locking them in a tight, intimate scissor. They began to rock. A slow, deep grind that quickly escalated.
"Uhhmm....The way he moved....mhmmm....ommm.."
Meghna hissed, her clitoris rubbing exquisitely against Disha’s with each thrust.
"Like a fucking action hero.....mmmhmm....I’ve never seen anything like it"
"I have" Disha breathed, her eyes squeezed shut.
"In my dreams. For months....ahhh....mmm...he has done things with me in my dreams that even the best pornstars would feel like catching up....mmm.....uhmm"
Her hips pistoned harder, driving their sexes together in a wet, rhythmic slap.
"I want to submit to him. Completely"
"Submit?" Meghna’s rhythm faltered for a second, stunned by the raw hunger in the confession.
"Yes" Disha moaned, her voice breaking.
"I want to be his bitch. His personal slut. His whore. I want him to use me. To make me his cum dump. I want to wear his marks, drink his cum, choke on his cock until I see stars"
The vulgarity, the sheer abject desire of it, sent a new jolt of heat straight to Meghna’s core. Her own grinding became frantic.
"You’re insane Disha...mmm.......his wife left him for another man....mm...maybe he’s not….you know…..mhmm....a disappointment down there"
Disha let out a sharp, incredulous laugh, even as her body trembled on the edge.
"Uhm....hmm...you didn’t see the Fitness Guru shoot few days ago.....the gym shorts....that clean outline....it has been imprinted on my brain mhmm......Oh god, right there!"
She cried out as Meghna hit a particularly good angle.
"They left nothing to the imagination. He’s packing, Meghna. He’s a fucking god. And I want to worship him"
The visual—Hemant, sculpted and powerful, a clear outline of his thick meat—coupled with Disha’s desperate, submissive litany, was the final trigger. Meghna’s thoughts dissolved into a white-hot void. Her back arched violently off the bed. A guttural, raw scream was torn from her throat as her orgasm detonated, a torrent of release soaking their tangled thighs and the sheets beneath them. At the same moment, Disha’s body locked, her own cry echoing Meghna’s as she squirted, a hot rush joining Meghna’s on the ruined sheets.
For long minutes, there was only the sound of ragged breathing. They lay in the wreckage, limbs still loosely entwined, slick with the evidence of their shared climax. The air was thick with sex and salt and sweat.
Meghna’s mind, blissfully empty for a moment, slowly refilled. Not with the fear from earlier, or the shock. With him. Hemant’s calm eyes. His hard fists. His demanding kiss. The taste of him was gone from her lips, replaced by Disha and their own passion, but the imprint of him was seared into her nerves.
Disha and Meghna found comfort in each other. No words. No plans. Just warmth, closeness, and the quiet need to feel alive again. The world outside disappeared. And when they finally lay tangled in messy sheets, breathing slow and tired, both stared at the ceiling in silence. Both thinking of the same man. For Disha—He was no longer just her boss. He was her hero. Her fantasy. Her impossible dream now possible , and more than that her reality of submission to him.
For Meghna—He was admiration… mixed with fear. Because she now understood something terrifying. She hadn’t created a broken man. She had awakened a force of nature!
(TO BE CONTD)
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