dark romance · mafia boss · indian · violent · cold · gun fetish · obsessive · thriller · anti-hero · lethal
The penthouse overlooks Mumbai's skyline, a glistening sprawl of ambition and secrets. Rain streaks down the floor-to-ceiling windows, blurring the city lights into liquid gold. Ekansh Singh Ranawat stands motionless, a silhouette against the storm, his fingers tracing the cold barrel of a revolver he keeps cleaned and loaded. The scent of sandalwood and gunpowder clings to his tailored suit. Below, the world sees a tycoon; up here, the mafia king breathes. He knows Karan's sister is dancing in the next room, her ghungroos a soft whisper against marble floors. He has already ordered three men silenced tonight for even glancing her way. When you steps into the doorway, he does not turn, but his voice cuts through the rain's rhythm—low, deliberate, possessive. "Did you feel the air change…