*Nikunj Villa*
"I want him destroyed."
Kairav's voice came out low and bitter as he raised the crystal wine glass to his lips and emptied it in one go. The dim golden lights of the room made it look dark and eerie. "He took everything from me. And now he's walking around like he owns the world."
Across from him, Tamas sat comfortably on the velvet couch, one leg crossed over the other, with a smirk on his face. "Good," he said calmly. "It's refreshing to finally meet someone who doesn't worship Krishav Singhania." He took a slow sip of wine before leaning forward slightly. "Kairav… your brother has made enemies everywhere. The difference is that most people are too scared to fight back."
Kairav laughed under his breath, "I'm not scared of him."
"No," Tamas agreed softly. "You're obsessed with getting back what belongs to you. Veeransh, right?"
Kairav's grip around the glass tightened. He looked at Tamas and nodded. "So," he asked, "what's the plan?"
Tamas stood up and walked toward the large teakwood table near the window. Several files were already spread across it. "His auction company," he said, tapping the papers, "has been growing too fast. Investors love Krishav. Clients trust him. And that trust is exactly what we'll destroy."
Kairav slowly stood and walked closer.
Tamas opened one of the files. "Two weeks from now, KAC is hosting its biggest auction event of the year. Politicians, businessmen, collectors… everyone important will be there."
"And?"
"And," Tamas said quietly, "that's where Krishav falls." A silence spread. "I've arranged fake documents," Tamas continued. "Reports claiming that KAC has been selling forged antiques and illegal collections through private deals."
Kairav took a look at the file.
Tamas leaned closer. "Once those papers leak during the auction, investors will panic, buyers will pull back and media channels will tear him apart."
"And the marriage?" Kairav asked immediately.
Tamas smiled. "We add fuel to the fire. A scandal always spreads faster in a country like India." He slid another file toward Kairav. "We'll leak a story saying Krishav manipulated his own brother's engagement and forced Veeransh into marriage for business and inheritance reasons."
Kairav stared at the papers for a long moment before laughing quietly. It sounded unhinged. "Perfect."
The alcohol had already blurred the edges of his restraint. Veeransh's face kept flashing through his mind over and over again. The marriage. The kiss he had witnessed.
"I'll ruin him," Kairav muttered. "I swear I'll ruin him."
Tamas watched him carefully. And he could tell that Kairav had gone unstable from the rage and the wine. And unstable people were useful.
"Kairav," Tamas said smoothly, placing a hand on his shoulder, "you should rest for tonight. A man shouldn't carry so much tension on a night like this. You need some sleep or maybe..."
Kairav gave a distracted nod.
Tamas set his wine glass down on the table. He snapped his fingers.
Three men appeared from the other room. They were lean and thin, decorated with minimal clothes. Kairav looked at them.
"Kairav," he smirked again, "why don't you go and have some fun. I mean you should take your day off." He called the men to take Kairav and give him a wonderful time."
After Tamas' order, the men came and took the drunk Kairav into the room. Kairav was so intoxicated from the wine and rage that he could not even tell what they looked like. But he hadn't realised that he was hungry for a meal and one of them had the face shape of Veeransh. And he was starving now.
He let himself be led. He didn't resist. His hand found a waist before they had even cleared the doorway. His mouth was already at a throat by the time the door swung shut behind them.
Minutes later the sounds of pleasure and sex muffled through the walls. Tamas heard it while he opened a hidden panel of shelf to reveal a ice chamber were wine bottles filled with blood were stored. He picked out one and brought it to the sitting area and poured it in a crystal glass. He smiled and drank the blood. Listening to moans coming from the room, Tamas put the glass down. "Love?", he laughed, "this generation has a new definition of love."
"Anyways," he picked up the file. "Krishav, you may be clever and I really respect that." He took another sip, "But it can be foreseen and you'll be destroyed."
He rose to his feet and walked toward a particular wall.
Tamas touched it and pressed his palm flat against the right edge. The panel came away cleanly, the wallpaper peeling back on its hidden hinge to reveal what lived behind it. It displayed the entire Singhania family tree.
Tamas' gaze settled on the small photo-sized portrait at the very top. "Dharam," he muttered coldly. "I told you… I'll destroy your entire family, one by one." The painted portrait of Dharam had a bold red cross slashed across it. Many other members of the Singhania lineage photos had the same mark, though a few photos remained untouched.
Suddenly, Tamas heard the faint rustle of movement through the air. He turned towards the balcony just as Jhanvi stepped inside. A grin spread across his face. "Ah, my darling beta is here."
"Baba, did you do it?" Jhanvi asked eagerly.
"Yeah," Tamas replied. "Kairav is in that room with my boys. Not even a single second of hesitation." The sounds from the room had stopped by then.
Jhanvi nodded. "Yeah… and he said he loved Veer—" But suddenly, her gaze drifted toward the wall covered in photographs. "Baba… aren't these the Singhanias? But who are the people above them?"
"They are their ancestors, beta."
Jhanvi narrowed her eyes at the red. "Wait… these red marks... mean you killed them?"
"Yes."
Without another word, she walked over to the couch and poured herself a glass of blood before leaning back lazily. "You never told me any of this."
Tamas walked over and sat across from her, swirling the blood in his glass before taking a sip. "It's a long story."
"I'm interested."
Tamas pointed toward the oldest portrait hanging at the very top. "Look at that man. Dharam Singhania. The founder of the Singhania clan."
"Wait… what century are we talking about?"
"Somewhere around the seventeenth century, probably the 1690s. Back then, I still lived among humans in my younger human form with my mother. I attended a college just for formalities, and Dharam became my closest friend." He took another sip. "But…"
"But?"
"I didn't know he belonged to a secret community that hunted Rakt Pishachs. They were the very first hunters."
"Whoa…"
"So I had to stay careful. Dharam eventually got married and had children. But one day, he grew suspicious of me. He searched my house… and discovered the truth." Tamas' grip tightened around his glass. "He killed my mother and burned down our home."
Jhanvi's expression softened. "Oh… poor grandmother."
"Yes." He sipped the blood. "And in my rage, I killed Dharam. Slowly. Painfully. I slaughtered his wife and two of his children too. But I spared the remaining two."
"Why?"
A cruel smile spread across his lips. "So the Singhania bloodline could continue. I wanted their family to grow… so I could keep feeding on them for generations."
Jhanvi let out a quiet laugh. "So that's why you hate the Singhanias."
"Destiny is amusing, isn't it?" Tamas murmured. "My mother was killed by a Singhania… and your mother was killed by the Singhanias too. We were destined to make this family suffer."
"Yes, Baba…" Then she tilted her head curiously. "But did you drink all those Singhanias' blood by yourself?"
Tamas laughed softly. "No, no. I share it with you."
"What?"
"Dharam's blood was… different from ordinary humans. It smelled richer. Tasted better." He smirked. "The entire Singhania lineage inherited that trait. Their blood is exquisite. That's why I preserve it."
Jhanvi swirled the blood in her glass before taking another sip. "So this is their blood? It really does taste better."
"Well," Tamas said casually, "once your revenge is complete, we can decide who deserves to live and who dies." He pointed toward the photographs at the very bottom—Krishav, Kairav, Aarav, Shreya, Aastha, Ananya, Prem, Smruti, and Koustuv.
Jhanvi studied them carefully. "Hmm… technically, Aastha isn't a Singhania. She's adopted."
Tamas nodded. "You see those unmarked photos in the older generations? They were the adopted children of the same-sex couples. I never killed them." His gaze darkened as he continued, "For now… leave Krishav, Kairav, and Smruti alive. The others can die after your revenge. Or perhaps…" He smirked. "You can kill them during it."
For a split second, Jhanvi tensed, but she quickly masked it behind a calm smile. "Good choice, Baba," she said smoothly. "That will happen soon enough."
Tamas stood up and walked toward a cabinet before pulling out a velvet jewellery box. "Give this to her," he said, handing it to Jhanvi. "She's still angry with me… and I don't like that."
Jhanvi took the box silently, nodded once, and disappeared through the balcony into the night.
* * *
*Singhania villa*
Jhanvi stepped into the room, the soft chime of her payal echoing through the dimly candlelit room.
Ayesha sat before the antique mirror, applying a layer of cream to her pale skin. Her eyes were gleaming red in the dark room. Jhanvi leaned against the doorway with folded arms. "You do realize your skin literally cannot age, right?"
Ayesha glanced at her reflection before looking back at her sister. "Maybe. But this cream feels heavenly." She dipped two fingers into the jar again. "And unlike you, I enjoy luxury."
Jhanvi snorted softly and walked closer. "It's face cream, not some magical potion, Cleopatra."
"Who knows?" Ayesha replied dramatically. "Maybe I'll become the fairest rakt pishach in existence."
"You already spend three hours staring at yourself in mirrors."
Ayesha gasped in fake offense and threw a makeup brush at her. Jhanvi caught it effortlessly before it could even touch her. She placed a dark velvet jewellery box on the table beside her. "Baba sent this. He's upset that you still refuse to speak to him."
Ayesha's expression dimmed for a moment as her fingers brushed the velvet box. "Hmm."
Jhanvi sat beside her, shoulder brushing against hers. "Listen… blood or not, twin or not, you're still my sister."
Ayesha gave a faint laugh, though sadness still lingered in her eyes. "Easy for you to say, di. You're the elder daughter. Baba trusts you with everything." She looked down. "I'm just the one standing beside you… helping."
"Don't say nonsense like that."
Ayesha smiled weakly. "Hmm whatever."
"Oh please, if Baba truly loved me more, he wouldn't dump all those responsibilities on my head while you roam around stealing everyone's attention."
Ayesha finally laughed properly. "Because unlike you, I actually have charm."
"You have drama."
"And you have anger issues."
"Me?" Jhanvi scoffed. "Gurl you are the one who gave that Madhu the worst death possible. You literally bit off her neck."
"Umm..well I wanted revenge for our mother." Ayesha shrugged.
Jhanvi rolled her eyes before pulling Ayesha into a hug. Ayesha melted into it instantly, resting her head against her shoulder. At that moment, they were just sisters.
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