"Nafrat aur pyaar... dono saath-saath chalte hain.
Aur nafrat kab pyaar mein badal jaaye... aur phir junoon mein
kisi ko pata nahi chalta."

Chapter 0 – Night Club, Private Area

The velvet curtains shut behind him, sealing the world outside. The private room smelled of expensive liquor and a hint of smoke. A man with a presence that made the air itself tense leaned over the girl on the chaise, his dark aura radiating authority and danger.

"You're mine tonight, understand?" he murmured, voice low and cutting.

The girl laughed, reckless and unashamed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You wish," she teased, leaning closer.

He growled softly, a dangerous smile tugging at his lips. "Slut..."

A sudden vibration cut through the tension—his phone, blinking insistently on the nearby table. His hand froze mid-motion, eyes narrowing. The spell of the room shifted, a sliver of reality sneaking back into the dark haze.

"Always something interrupting, isn't it?" she whispered, smirking.

He snatched the phone, unreadable, his attention split but still intense. Whatever awaited him on that screen, it wasn't going to stop him. Not yet.

And as he finally looked up, the shadows of the room seemed to cling to him, a presence no one dared challenge. This man—this dangerous, intoxicating force—was none other than Rudraksh Rajpurohit.

The vibration of the phone had barely faded when he swiped the screen, revealing Anannya's name. He answered, irritation lacing his tone.

"What..." he snapped.

"Rudraksh, where are you?" Anannya's voice was tinged with a sigh, a mix of concern and exasperation.

He smirked, leaning back slightly in the dim light of the private room. "Where would I be on a Friday night, Anannya?"

There was a pause on the other end. Anannya muttered irritably, "Why did I even ask..."

"What the hell do you want now?" Rudraksh's voice was sharp, almost menacing. "This better be important."

Anannya hesitated, the slightest uncertainty in her tone. "Can you... do me a favor?"

He let out a low, cold chuckle that made the girl in the room flinch slightly. "I don't do favors, sis."

"Just... go and pick up Samar from his office, will you?" she said softly. "He's not feeling well... he has a fever."

Rudraksh chuckled again, this time a deep, unsettling sound that filled the room. Silence stretched between them for a moment, broken only by the faint music from the club beyond the curtains.

Rudraksh let out a slow, deliberate sigh, his voice dripping with mockery. "Wow... little baby is sick now."

Anannya's patience snapped. "Rudraksh! Mind your language! He is your brother-in-law, and older than you!"

He tilted his head, a cold smirk tugging at his lips as he mocked her. "Well... if he's older and not a baby, then he can come on his own. Why can't he? Is little baby scared?"

"Leave it! Why did I even call you..." Anannya muttered, frustration bleeding through her voice. "I thought you were near his office... but no..."

Rudraksh rolled his eyes, the irritation in his expression sharp and palpable. "Cut the crap, sis. I'll drop your parcel at your doorstep."

Without waiting for a reply, he snapped the phone shut, his jaw tight. The noise of the club faded behind him as he pushed through the curtains, the weight of his irritation fueling every step. The night air hit him, cold and biting, but it did nothing to temper the storm inside him.

Rudraksh Rajpurohit was on the move, whether anyone wanted him or not.

Rudraksh slid into his sleek black car, the leather cold beneath him. The engine roared to life, and he drove through the quiet streets toward Samar's office.

From the tinted windows, he saw him: Samar, already stepping out, shoulders slumped, every movement heavy with exhaustion. The weak shuffle of his feet on the footpath caught Rudraksh's attention, and a slow, almost amused smirk formed on his lips.

He stayed a few cars behind, keeping his distance while his mind ran wild with thoughts. Look at this man... so weak... so pathetic... but still... somehow... adorable. Ugh, too bad. Not my type. Never my type. Why is my sister so obsessed with you, huh? Pathetic little crybaby...

His eyes narrowed, a flicker of irritation—or was it intrigue?—running through him.

With a soft click, he brought the car to a stop directly in front of Samar. The engine hummed low, almost threatening, as Rudraksh leaned back in his seat, watching him.

The night air seemed to grow heavier around them, charged with something neither of them fully understood yet.

Samar stared at the car, confusion written all over his face, until the window rolled down with a smooth click. And there he was—Rudraksh Rajpurohit, glaring like the world had personally offended him.

"Get in," he said coldly. No hint of friendliness. No room for discussion.

Samar blinked. "Aree... Rudraksh? Tum yahan?"

Rudraksh rolled his eyes like the answer was obvious. "Dekho... mere paas tumhare yeh kya kyu  ke liye time nahi hai. Chup chap andar betho... I have other work too."

Samar opened his mouth. "If you have work, no problem. I'll—actually, my car broke down—"

"Stop with this drama, okay?" Rudraksh cut him off, leaning a little forward, voice sharp enough to cut glass. "Just get in, or sister dearest won't like it."

Samar tried again. "But I—"

"Nope," Rudraksh snapped, angrier now. "Just get inside, dude, or I'll throw you in myself. Phir yeh bukhar-vukhar yahi utar jayega."

Samar froze for a second, blinking at him. Then, with a sigh, he slid into the car.

Rudraksh didn't soften. Didn't smile. Engine started. Eyes on the road. Hate—pure, steady, irritating hate—filled every thought he had about this man beside him.

The car finally came to a halt in front of Samar and Anannya's apartment. Rudraksh killed the engine and glanced sideways.

Samar. Fast asleep. Slumped in the seat like the world had finally beaten him down.

Rudraksh rolled his eyes, the irritation obvious in the crease of his brow. But then... he looked again. Really looked.

You all must be wondering why I hate him, right? he thought, a bitter smirk tugging at his lips. What's there to hate? Look at him... soft, harmless, pathetic little human. Harmless, isn't he?

Wrong.

Pathetic. Weak. Simple. Doesn't even come close to the Rajpurohit standard. And yet... He grit his teeth. My sister saw something in him. And my parents... the ones who hate me so much... they actually like him. Ugh. Before anyone starts thinking otherwise, yes, the feelings are mutual. I hate them too. But I hate them more because they actually... like this boy. Everyone adores him. So. Damn. Pathetic.

Rudraksh leaned forward, shaking him lightly. "Wake up," he muttered irritably, poking Samar's shoulder again. Nothing. Fever. Weakness. The boy didn't even stir.

Tch. He scowled, the irritation growing. This was ridiculous. He'd driven all the way here, had to deal with Anannya's constant nagging, only to find this... little drama of a man asleep in front of him.

Rudraksh tilted his head, staring. Why does my sister even care about this pathetic little creature? The thought made his jaw tighten. And yet, against all logic, he couldn't completely look away.

With a frustrated huff, he grabbed his phone from the console, fingers drumming against the sleek surface. Fine. Let's see who else I can drag into this mess..ofcourse sister dearest.

He pressed the call button, the sharp click echoing in the silent car.

Rudraksh swiped through his contacts, slammed his finger down on Anannya's name, and slammed the phone to his ear.

"Where the hell are you?" he barked the moment she picked up.

"Sorry! I'm at my friend's place..." Anannya's voice sounded apologetic, almost nervous. "Did you... drop Samar?"

"No," Rudraksh snapped, exasperation rolling off every word. "Your dramatic husband fell asleep in my car."

"Oh... sorry, Rudransh," she stammered, voice softening. "He must be really tired..."

Rudraksh cut her off sharply, the edge in his voice unmistakable. "Shouldn't you be with him right now... since you love him so much?"

"I... I already had plans!" Anannya said quickly, a little flustered. "And Samar didn't tell me before that he was having a fever."

"Cut the crap," Rudraksh growled, leaning back against the seat. "I am not interested in your little married life. Just tell me how to get rid of him."

Anannya sighed, a pause heavy with hesitation. "The... the key to the apartment should be under the pot at the doorstep. Just... get him inside." Her voice trembled slightly. "...please."

Rudraksh's eyes narrowed, lips curling into a sharp, cold smile. "You always check my last ounce of patience, don't you?"

Click.

The call ended, leaving the car silent except for the faint hum of the engine. Rudraksh stared at the sleeping figure beside him, irritation and begrudging responsibility mixing in a dangerous, unreadable storm behind his dark eyes.

Rudraksh climbed out of the car, grabbed Samar under the arms, and hoisted him effortlessly. The weight was light, but the warmth of his body, the faint scent of him—ugh—it was irritating.

Why does he even have a smell? So... annoying. Weak... pathetic... and somehow... He shook his head, rolling his eyes. No. Not thinking about that. Pathetic little crybaby.

Samar mumbled something incoherent in his sleep, leaning against Rudraksh's chest. The motion made him scowl, irritation bubbling. "Tch," he muttered. Falling asleep on me now? Seriously?

He marched toward the doorstep, his boot catching the pot at the edge of the entrance. The clay shattered with a sharp crack, dirt scattering across the floor. Rudraksh kicked it angrily, glaring down at the mess. Of course. Just perfect.

Samar shifted slightly, leaning even more heavily against him. Rudraksh groaned inwardly but didn't slow his pace. He bent down, grabbed the apartment key from under the remaining pot fragments, and muttered, "Move, or I swear I'll drop you right here."

With a sharp twist, the door clicked open. Rudraksh stepped inside, still holding Samar awkwardly, letting him slide down onto the couch with a soft thud. The boy didn't even wake, just sank into the cushions, vulnerable and irritatingly adorable.

Rudraksh rolled his eyes, arms crossed, standing over him. Ugh. So pathetic. So irritating. And my sister actually... likes this?

The faint smell lingered, a subtle reminder that this wasn't over—at least, not in Rudraksh's mind. He muttered under his breath, irritation coating every word, "You're lucky... sleeping doesn't make you less annoying."

Rudraksh locked the apartment door behind him, the heavy click of the deadbolt satisfying in its finality. He walked straight to his car, the night air brushing against his face as he slid into the driver's seat.

The engine barely hummed when his phone buzzed. He swiped it open.

"Aksh! Where are you, man? I'm sitting in the club like a fool!" Veer's voice boomed through the speaker.

Rudraksh rolled his eyes, frustration bubbling. "Find me a good chick, will you? I'm really frustrated right now."

"Wait... you didn't like the one I sent you before?" Veer asked, surprised.

"She couldn't handle me," Rudraksh replied coldly, voice sharp. "Cried like a little... slut."

Veer whistled low. "Ok, playboy. Got it."

Click.

The call ended, leaving Rudraksh staring at the dark streets ahead, irritation still simmering, the echo of the night's chaos lingering in his mind. Ugh. So frustrating. Everything's so damn annoying tonight.

And that... was Rudraksh Rajpurohit. A glimpse, just a glimpse, into the dark, sharp-edged life of a man who hated weakness, loved control, and tolerated almost nothing.

Did you see Samar? Soft. Gentle. Pure of heart. So unlike Rudraksh, it almost hurt to watch.

Rudraksh hates him. That much is clear. But... well, let's see what happens next.

Chapter Quote:
"Some people walk into your life like a storm... leaving chaos, heat, and a strange fascination you can't escape."