I am excited to share this first glimpse of him!!!!!!! btw the way for the people who are wondering what the title means - long story short, I read it one of the most popular dark romance authors Rina Kent's book - god of fury - Jermey Volkov - Veni, vidi, vici... I came, I saw, I conqure... it suits for Veeradhirt too so yeah I took it. not a copy... just felt this might be a good start...

Enjoy this first glimpse! like and share if you like the chapter...

Third person

“Raja Saab, do you think this colour palette suits for the upcoming handloom exhibition?” A man in his early fifty’s bent down a little showing an iPad screen, respectfully, dressed in formal attire – A dhoti and black kurta with overcoat, buttoned till his neck, neatly. There were faint wrinkles on his face with a grey moustache. “Yes, Deewan ji, because the theme itself is to celebrate the earthly colours and history of mankind in clothing...” an elderly man sitting in the armchair answered.

“Raja Saab... I will tell the dying unit to use it then.” He closed the iPad with a serene smile.

“The weather is looking so hot today? It’s not even noon and look at the heatwave we are getting into the hall?” that elderly man looked through the glass windows of the Gadi (A traditional mansion in Telangana state where aristocrats and royals live.)

“Haan, about that it’s already the month of March; then definitely it will be hot..” the Deewan said before taking a cup of tea from a servant.

“Raja Sahab, where is China Raja(small king.. jk… prince in Telugu) ji?” his brows furrowed before continued, “I heard that he is going to take the responsibility of Gadwal along with the company?”

The old man chuckled, took his walking stick – a Tak wood one which had the emblem of Gadwal seal on it. He was dressed in a fine white silk kurta, a golden colour dhoti… his wrinkles are much visible... he too took his tea in the special silver cup...

Taking a sip he spoke, “Someone looks not so good with my retirement plan it seems Deewan Rajaram ji?” his voice was fine, still carrying that old money vibe..

“I mean he is thirty, Raja Sahab, he is..” Deewan Rajaram tired say but Raja Varada Reddy rose his brows from the corners of his golden frames.. “He returned from London six years ago, actually shown interest in this field and adapted to this state, this industry.. he is running everything in shadows… I don’t see a problem.” He said calmly.

“But he is reckless Raja Sahab, and we can’t estimate what he might be doing now? Where is he now?” Deewan Rajaram questioned placing the tea cup politely down.

“Should I put him on call?” Raja Varada Reddy asked chuckling gruffly shaking his head.

“China Raja vaaru(respectful abbreviation to people in Telugu) will be like king where ever he is… why to be that persistent Deewan gaaru(Same meaning as Vaaru)?” the she is the most important person of this Gadi… the chief house maintainer… Alivelu… she has soft spot for the prince… because she is the one who took care of him since childhood…

“Alivelu.. you are too blind..” Rajaram commented with disbelief.

“Your China raja is not a cinema hero…” he added.

“He is better than them… he is more handsome than them, he can fight better than them..” she smiled widely.

“Look he has already fans…” Raja Varada Reddy gestured casually.

Rajaram has no option other than shaking his head..”I wonder what this so-called future king is doing… he left for another vacation…” he mumbled inside with a hidden anger.

--

Paris, France… CEST – 8:00 am

Le Pavillion de la Reine & Spa, Place des Vosges hotel

The hotel was calm and buzzing busy for the morning… breakfast platters were arranged in a buffet, hosting national international models… the French cuisine was displayed proudly, the melodic music in the background…

The buttery smell of Croissants lingering the air…

“Where is this bastard yet? He asked us to come down for breakfast he was still in his room?” a man with crystal frame glasses, clean shave face muttered in anger with another guy standing beside him.. that clean shaven man was looking too calm and composed while his anger was raging deeply inside… his tailored suit was like second skin, he was tall with broad shoulders, eyes were amber coloured underneath the glasses… the coffee cup in his hands was long forgotten.

“How would I know? That moron isn’t in his suite this morning!” came a feminine voice delicately chiding with an almost irritated face. She was dressed in a yellow floral long frock with no sleeves; her long curly hair was framing beautifully like she just came out of magazine shoot…her tan skin was reflecting morning sun light of Paris beautifully…

“Princess Mahima Wadiyar, I think your best friend isn’t in his room.” Her personal assistant Anoop Shetty informed. He is a man who was dressed in crisp maroon shirt, khaki pants, a dark stubble on his chin, he was mediumly built.

“What?” the clean-shaven guy looked totally giving up…his rage was off the charts now…

“Calm down Dr. Arun…” Anoop Shetty gestured with a small alert from his side…

“It’s not Arun… it’s Arul…. Dr. Arul Cholan…” he corrected his name before returning to his friend’s topic…

“This mother^ker will give anger and blood pressure issues to even healthy people! Mr. Shetty, tell him that I am leaving and ask him to f@@k off he comes later.” Dr. Arul got up screeching the breakfast chair… but before he can go a strong arm wrapped around his shoulders from behind…

“Finally!” princess Mahima Wadiyar sighed with relief. Even her personal assistant Anoop Shetty looked relieved.

“Looks like someone is angry with me Doctor Arul Cholan?” a gravel voice rumbled from behind, A tall a broad-shouldered man dressed in a plain white shirt and dark blue denim, ray ban meta glasses on even inside the hotel… stood with a confident smug smile and lazy look under those glasses….

Arul Cholan turned to look at the hand around his shoulder, eyes held a judgment as always towards his bloody best friend – Prince of Gadwal – Raja Veeradhrit Reddy…

“Looks like my best friend is missing me too much..” Veeradhrit maintained that smug making Arul groan in frustrated.

“You don’t have any time sense; there is something called as punctuality Mr. Reddy. You can’t even do that.” He complained for now sitting in the breakfast chair.

“Sorry, my dear best friends; Actually, I had an important meeting in the morning with my foreign clients. You know I made our textiles to Paris fashion week so yeah, that’s how it works.” Veeradhrit removed the meta glasses hooking them to his white t shirt.

“Mahi, did you feel bad for me too? Haan?” he spoke smoothly to Mahima Wadiyar sitting adjacent to him.

Mahima who leaned in her chair, sitting crossed legged rolled her siren eyes, “Of course Mr. Cloth store owner.” Sarcasm dripped in her tone.

“Ouch, Cloth store owner? I think there is a difference between running a textile factory and selling fully made clothes?” he placed left hand on his chest mimicking the mockery.

“Shut up you brat! Stop now and we are waiting since half hour!” Arul snarled at him.

“Calm down Doc. Anoop… you take care of your princess… I mean passenger princess… I and Arul are going to fetch some breakfast for ourselves.” He said taking the empty plate.

“Adhrit? You are demeaning me! Moron, you are going to pay for this. Do you think I can’t pick up my own breakfast!?” She hit his forearm.

“Ouch! That’s hurt Ms. Wadiyar!” he groaned in mock pain.

“This man is such a rascal, he doesn’t sit straight… his mouth.. it’s drainage for a sane man like me!” Arul muttered irritated, took his plate of and walked to the breakfast buffet to serve himself. Anoop Shetty followed behind.

“Sir, Is Mr. Reddy always that way?” Anoop asked plating for breakfast.

Arul let out a deep sigh, relaxing his irritated eye brows. “That man is a chatter box, arrogant, like to talk about everything. I am watching him since we are kids. He likes to banter like that with Mahi till she hits him. They share a strange bond.”

“I can see that. But feels like Mr. Reddy is going too much.” Anoop said making last time adjustments the croissant, coffee, a pistachio pastry….(remember this we will talk in future 😉.)

“He is too much! He makes me forget what I actually want to talk with him many times.” Arul’s plate was also filled with some Greek salad, a black coffee paired up….

Anoop took a look at Arul’s plate then at him – “Of course a doctor, he will eat like that so…” his mind contemplated.

Meanwhile here at the breakfast table…

“Adhrit, tell me where were you this morning? Don’t joke with me or fight like this making misogynistic jokes, which you actually try to cover up. Tell me before Aru arrives…” she pointed the butter knife at him… squinting her eyes, still cross dressed in her yellow sun dress.

“Did you see that hot sexy supermodel Adriana from Brazil?” he leaned holding the glass of water pointing at a natural blonde woman who is in the pink crop top and denim boxers, smiling radiantly and talking to once of a hotel staff member.

“She looks so beautiful.” Mahima said in awestruck. “Yeah, I am having a tango (ifyky 😉) with her.” He smirked, that same smug smirk.

“Tango? With her?” Mahima gave a disapproval look at him. “Yeah… she is damn good with steps… her waist, her body is like a river flow… damn her perfume…” he started to explain like lost in his own world.

“Adhrit… Adhrit… shut the f@@k up and tell me the truth. I know that my best friend doesn’t really spend time with women, that too models, actresses, they bore him… right? Not because they lack personality but he never want to even hook up with them, Apparently women are just costly maintenance than his textiles.” Her brows were crooked, while she crooned staring at him.

“Alright… no I wasn’t with any woman…” he sighed.. but slowly his face flicked a hint of darkness which wasn’t familiar with Mahima, “You don’t want to know Mahi… trust me…” his voice deepened, jaw tightened a split second, the dark brown eyes darkened further… and then – “Looks like the breakfast is here… we don’t need details… do we?” he said returning to same smug smile when Arul and Anoop approached with breakfast.

--

One hour ago… 7 am…

in a dark alley of the Paris… down the River Seine…

A man was groaning in pain as a freshly infused wound came in touch with acid… he was crying in an inhuman sob, but no one around him were moving.

“Please… please let me explain..” that man begged in thick French accent…. No one in those ten men surrounding him were moving. They all have dark and unreadable faces, dressed in casual clothing.

“You should’ve asked it before selling my truths to others Daven.” Came a cool voice echoing the dark alley.

A man who was 6’1 tall, with strong biceps under his black leather jacket entered the narrow path. Each step wasn’t controlled or measured but just vibrating enough to radiate that dangerous energy from him.

Thick white smoke was curling up in the stalled air… as he let it out from his mouth. His left hand held the thick cigar in between fingers, while his right hand reached for the licensed revolver at his waist band of denim jeans.

“Why you guys are pouring dilute acid?” it was the first question left his lips. He brushed the black jet hair back from his forehead, just then slowly the morning sun rays split through the walls of closely built structures around… casting on his face…

Yes, it’s him – Valerian … not Raja Veeradhrit Reddy, just  Valerian, a nightmare whom most people don’t want to touch... His sharp features and dark eyes were having an unreadable expression.

“This isn’t how you punish a man who stole our secrets gentlemen. We need to pour concentrated acid. If not…” just after adjusting the revolver at the waist band, he reached out a mechanical tool kit which was in hands of one of those meticulously standing men.

Veera opened the kit picking up a hammer and nails.

Two men in his group lurched this French man forward who is middle aged and trembling like a withered leaf..

“Please.. please leave me… I have a family… I need to provide them! I have done it for money for my kids… nothing more than that.. please boss.” He folded hands eyes were filled with tears and fear. Valerian didn’t soften… he gave that signature smirk with cool smug expression.

“Tch, tch… you should have seen it coming Daven… now how can I forgive you hmm?” he said not before mercilessly hinting a nail into that man’s knuckles with the hammer while one of his men placed it on the wall behind.

“Ahhhhh!!!!” Daven screamed with agonizing pain… his entire body went numb…

“Shhh…. This is so violent isn’t it? Then why did you do that?” Valerine cooed in his deep voice like he wasn’t committing a torture on a literal human.

The blood started to flow hot from the damaged veins on the hand of Daven.

That alley was already dirty, now it was smelling rot and copper…

Paris which hosted a beautiful and creative night is witnessing a horror in the hidden banks of its river bed….

“Actually, I don’t want to waste my time. Looks like you guys have already tortured this man enough didn’t you?” he turned to one of his trusted men in those ten men – Zane, a bulky and sharp looking French guy who is in his mid-thirties, wearing a casual pastel blue shirt, denim jacket, grey pants.

He looked like a French army colonel on a holiday, not a criminal working under Valerine.

“Yeah, Val. We need to finish him off, that’s it. I will take care of it.” He replied in cold tone briefly glancing around the already blood spilled alley road.

“Let me finish him off.” Another man stepped front, but Valerine flicked his fingers down. “No way…. It has to be me…” his tone was dangerously low with darkness in eyes.

That’s it next second Daven was gone, the bullet stuck in his point block. No drama, no pleading, he didn’t even got time to understand or go scared before the trigger pulled.

No sound echoed in the walls of alley, silencer on gun worked well for Valerine.

He slowly, lazily placed the gun in his waist band again.

“What we should do to his body?” a young guy who joined the team recently looked at the other nine.

“Take to your home and keep it in there. Arrange for hi funeral.” Valerine commented casually and the young Indian guy looked flabbergasted… gritted his teeth.

“I gave him too merciful death Zane, tsk. If he didn’t talk about family maybe I would have killed him more concentrated..” he again turned pinching bridge of his nose before getting into the car.

“Zane, you do know what to do right?” his tone went serious

“You need not to tell me Boss, you can count on me.” Zane replied with a curt nod escorting Valerine to the car.

“Hmm… My friends are waiting for breakfast… my doctor friend will be so furious right now.. okay, see you.. have a nice day.” He said raising brows checking the multiple missed calls from his best friends, waved a small bye to Zane.

Zane closed the car door, stood still outside the dark alley till the car is out of his sight.

When he turned around the other nine men were ready and almost done with their own way to cover death of Daven.

---

 this book starts post Dusshera guys.. stay tuned! bye!