Devil’s Den – Chapter 1

Cunning Hunter

At 30 years old, Maan Singh Khurana was named Businessman of the Year. Everyone knew about his methods for maintaining this title over the past five years, but he ensured that all his actions were legal. Despite his questionable practices, he always managed to keep his hands seemingly clean.

He got out of his car, tossed the key for anyone to catch, and made his way toward his den. Oh! It was a huge mansion. From one end, it was impossible to determine its width and length. It was so lớn that if someone were shouting or crying at one end, no one at the other end would hear a thing.

It was his domain. It was Devil’s Den. No one else stayed here—just him and his deeds that the world would label as dirty. Besides those dark acts, only the mansion’s workers were present, catering to his daily needs and maintaining the property. Did he remember anyone’s name? No, he never cared about those people. To him, they were like insects. A single mistake from any of them, and he would dismiss them and punish them in ways that would make others think twice before crossing him. As a result, the mansion operated flawlessly, without a single error.

He only had Dadima, in name of relation. She had given up on him and broken all relations with him. So she was never seen here. She preferred to stay in their hereditary Mansion. It was best arrangement for him. NO INTERFERENCE.  He very well knew her needs and she was provided with all facilities and funds. May be this was the one and only humanity part of him – Dadima.

His cell buzzed as he approached his huge elegant bed room “Did you get the paper signed?”

“Sir, he is not bowing. We are trying hard”

“Throw the money on his face. I have decided to get that land; explain him I will get it by any means.”

He disconnected and poured himself a whiskey. He hated not having a girl to pour drinks for him, and then join him in pouring another. But when business was involved, he avoided such distractions.

It had barely been an hour, and he was already on his third drink. He dialed the number again.

“Yes, sir… we’re trying,” the voice on the other end stammered.

He sighed. Time to interfere.

“If you want to keep your job, I want his twenty-one-year-old daughter inside my den tomorrow by 5 p.m.”

“S-sir…” The man’s voice shook now. If he failed, it wouldn’t just be his job—his whole family would be destroyed.

“What do we do about the father?” the man asked hesitantly.

“Let him enjoy his so-called victory until 5 p.m. tomorrow. By 7 p.m., he’ll hand over the signed papers himself.”

“O-okay, sir.”

“Useless people…” he muttered, disconnecting the call.

5 pm Devil’s Den:

A fair, petite girl stepped into the mansion. She was irritated at first—her results were coming out today, she knew she would top again, and she was missing the celebration waiting for her at college. But the moment she crossed the threshold of the mansion, her annoyance faded. She felt as though she had walked straight into a dream.

The place was enormous, breathtaking. Someone incredibly rich had invited her here. The perks of being a topper, she told herself. Education always brings respect.

For nearly an hour she was treated with the utmost courtesy—tea, snacks, polite conversation, everyone making her feel valued. Why would she suspect even a hint of darkness in a place like this?

But then… she felt it.

An aura entered the space—one she had never felt before. She looked up and instantly felt lightheaded. A man was approaching, and which young girl’s heart wouldn’t race at the sight of someone so impossibly handsome? The way he walked, the way he carried himself, the slight killer smile playing on his lips as his eyes locked directly on her…

Her legs rose from the chair on their own. He noticed—and enjoyed—the effect he had on her.

He extended his hand toward her.

“Helloooow… Maan Singh Khurana. And you are, I think… ummm—”

Of course, he already knew exactly who she was. He had done his research.
But this… this was him in full Game Mode.

First his looks, then the weight of his name—everything hit her at once, leaving her completely rattled. Her hand trembled, the confidence of a class topper draining away in seconds as she extended it toward him.
“Hello, Sir… Sa— Sanchi Joshi,” she managed, her voice barely steady.

He clearly enjoyed the effect he had on her.

Sir? Even Sanchi was shocked at the respectful tone she had used for this man. Almost every girl on campus drooled over his pictures, yet cursed him just as much for his notorious devil-may-care reputation. Everyone knew what a shameless flirt he was… a complete cheapster.

And still, his charm had this unescapable pull. The very thing girls hated about him was exactly what he made them do: fall for his charm, get trapped in that magnetic aura, and forget who they were for a moment.

“Interesting name… but to me, you’re the topper,” he said, sliding his arm around her shoulders. One of his fingers brushed the bare skin just near the neckline of her top—light, deliberate, and intoxicatingly close.

She jolted at the touch, instinct telling her to pull away, to slap any man who dared cross that boundary.
But this… this was different.

The sensation lingered, unwilling to let her resist. Her heartbeat stumbled, racing out of control as something deeper—darker—stirred within her, a forbidden desire whispering that she didn’t want him to stop.

“Oh, don’t overreact. He’s just casually encouraging you. His finger must have accidentally touched my skin,” she tried to excuse herself.

Maan continued to trace his fingertips along her shoulder. By now, she knew he was doing it deliberately, but the touch was so unexpectedly gentle—so flattering—that she pushed every warning in her mind aside. Something warm and unsettling curled inside her, a pull she had never felt so strongly before.

No one is even looking… and it’s just a touch, she tried to convince herself.

Then his hand slid to her waist, guiding her toward the seat. His fingers found the edge of her top and brushed the skin beneath, slow and unhurried. She should have jerked back—any other man would have earned a slap by now—but instead, a strange dizziness washed over her. His touch, his nearness, his aura… it was all too overpowering.

She dared to look up at him, hoping he would move his hand away—but unable to voice it. His eyes met hers, and he offered that lethal smile she had only seen in pictures. In that moment, she felt herself slipping, losing every rule she had lived by.

A small, breathless thought whispered inside her:

If he asked… she might just say yes to anything.

He guided her to the chair and then took the seat opposite. He didn’t miss the unexpectedness and displeasure of the sudden gap between them. A girl as principled as her should have welcomed the distance, yet something inside her didn’t appreciate it. The Devil had stepped away… and her pulse hated it.

Maan read her reaction with ease. Creating distance only sharpened her longing—he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Do you want to celebrate your result with a drink? You topped again.”
Her eyes widened. How did he…?

He simply held up his phone, displaying her results. She barely absorbed the information before he stood and closed the space between them. She automatically rose to her feet, as if pulled by a string.

“I don’t drink,” she whispered.

He leaned closer, his breath grazing her cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The simple touch robbed her of thought. Then his hands slid lightly to her shoulders, his thumbs brushing over the fabric of her sleeves before gliding down her arms in a slow, deliberate motion.

“It’s your day,” he murmured, his voice smooth, coaxing. “You should celebrate. There’s nothing wrong with breaking a rule… just once.”

His fingers trailed upward again, tracing the line of her jaw. Her eyes fluttered shut, her heartbeat a wild, unsteady rhythm. She felt herself tipping, losing her grip on every boundary she had ever drawn.

He could see it—her confusion, her fascination, her inexperience—and he knew she wouldn’t stop him if he pushed further. Girls like her, naïve and entirely new to this intoxication, always fell the fastest. And he enjoyed pushing them right to that edge.

“You are beautiful,” he said. All the girls were beautiful to him. They all served the same purpose to him.

His hands moved with practiced confidence. One rested lightly against the small of her back, the other slipped to her waist—nothing overt, nothing she could object to, yet intimate enough to make her breath catch. His touch was slow, deliberate, claiming space on her skin as if he had every right to.

She felt herself soften, her resolve dissolving without her permission.

“I would be honored to celebrate with a topper,” he murmured, voice dipped in smooth temptation.

Flattered beyond reason, she didn’t even realize when he tugged her closer, so suddenly she gasped, yet made no move to pull away.

“How?” The question escaped her before she understood.

“Any way you want,” he replied, giving her a seductive smile

Then, just as her nerves began to tangle around him completely, he stepped back; calm, controlled, creating distance with ease.

“Sit,” he said softly. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

And without thinking, without questioning, she obeyed.

“Did you receive the lovely pictures of your daughter with me?” he asked coldly.

“How dare you put your dirty hand on my daughter. Ohhh, so this is the cheap tactic of famous Maan Singh Khurana.”

“When did I ever claim I wasn’t cheap? Anyway… your daughter seems eager to celebrate her result with me. With your permission, I can proceed.”

“Leave her! I’ll sign the papers.”

“Oh? That easy?” he laughed lightly. “I would have enjoyed the game a bit more, but with insects like you, this is more than enough.”

“

“I’ll send the signed papers… but leave her.”

“Where am I holding her? The poor girl is impatiently waiting for me in the hall.”

“I’ll file a case against you,” the man threatened.

Maan let out a low, devilish laugh. “Very well. Go ahead. The CCTV clearly shows how your daughter waited for me… and how much she enjoyed my company. Badnami kiski hogi, you know that better than I do.”

He ended the call, dismissing the man like he had already wasted enough time on a non-existent.

After the signed paper was collected from the man, he came out.

Sanchi immediately looked up, expecting him.

“I think it’s getting late,” he said gently. “Your parents must be worried. We’ll celebrate another day. I really do respect toppers.”

He boosted her ego, not letting her feel humiliated.

After she left, he dialed, “Keep an eye on that Joshi girl. I would like to have her when time comes.”

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Chapter 2 – Not a Good Girl