Darjan Singh: "During the foreign martial artists' invasion, many of our senior masters—those of the second tier—were killed. As of now, IMAA has very few second-level martial artists left."
Aryan: nods thoughtfully "I understand… but I have something that may help."
Aryan handed Darjan two pages.
Aryan: "The first page contains techniques that will be introduced in IMAA training in the future. The second page… is just for you."
Darjan Singh: "Thank you, Master Aryan."
Aryan: "You may leave now."
Darjan bowed respectfully, exited the house, and left in a taxi.
Aryan finally found himself alone—something rare since returning from the Ashram. He longed for a moment of quiet, but just as he was settling in, his phone rang.
Aryan: "Hello? What is it, Darjan?"
Darjan Singh: "Apologies, Master Aryan. I forgot to inform you—IMAA has allocated a small residence for you at Bombay Society in Juhu. If you're available, you may head there now."
Aryan: "Alright. I'll go right away."
He booked a cab and arrived an hour later at the gate of Bombay Society—a prestigious, ultra-secure residential area known for its luxury villas. The guards verified his identity before allowing him entry. Aryan walked toward the administration office to collect his keys.
As he neared the office, a middle-aged woman exited, brushing past him. She muttered under her breath, "Filthy poor man…"
Aryan ignored the remark, collected the keys, and walked toward the villa assigned to him. But just as he was about to insert the key, he heard someone shout:
"Hey! Thief! Stop right there!"
He turned to see the same woman pointing at him.
Aryan: "Excuse me? Why are you calling me a thief? And who are you?"
Woman: "My name is Shreya Thakur. I said that because you're clearly breaking into someone else's home."
Aryan: "And what makes you so sure this isn't my home?"
Shreya: smirks "Because someone like you couldn't possibly afford a place here."
Aryan: pulling out the key "Well, sorry to disappoint you, but this villa belongs to me. These are the keys, and you have no right to judge me. So kindly back off."
Shreya: furious "Watch your tone. Do you even know who I am?"
Aryan: "No, and frankly, I don't care."
Shreya: "I'm Shreya Thakur—daughter of the Thakur family. We own this society."
Aryan: "So?"
Shreya: "If you don't show me the respect I deserve, my family will make sure you regret ever stepping here."
Aryan: "You can't do that."
Shreya: "Oh really—"
A voice cut her off.
"Stop, Shreya!"
It was Abhilash Sharma, walking toward them.
Shreya: "Oh, it's you… Abhilash Sharma. Why are you interfering?"
Abhilash: "Because he's my guest. And every guest is to be treated with respect here."
Shreya: "And if I don't? What will you do?"
Abhilash: calm but firm "You're forgetting one thing, Shreya. I own this society."
Shreya: "Yes, but my family owns the group that controls it."
Abhilash: "Perhaps. But this time, you'll need to leave the premises."
With that, Shreya left, visibly fuming.
Abhilash turned to Aryan, extending a hand.
Abhilash: "I'm Abhilash Sharma, owner of Bombay Society. Welcome."
Aryan: "Namaste. I'm Aryan Paul—from Assam."
Abhilash: "I apologize for her behavior."
Aryan: "You don't need to. It's not your fault."
Abhilash: sighs "Actually… I do. She's my ex-wife."
Aryan's eyes widened. Abhilash looked to be around 25, while Shreya seemed closer to 47 or 48.
Aryan: "I'm… sorry. I didn't mean to pry."
Abhilash: chuckles lightly "Don't worry. It's a long story. You may go rest now."
Aryan nodded and entered his villa, finally getting some peace.
---
The Next Day
A luxurious car sent by IMAA pulled up at Aryan's villa. He stepped in, dressed impeccably, and headed to the main IMAA building. Today was the grand reception.
Several influential people were arriving—politicians, business magnates, even underworld figures. The rumor had spread like wildfire: a martial arts master had slain five elite kung fu warriors during the foreign invasion and was now rebuilding IMAA. This same master—Aryan—had also invested 100 crore INR into IMAA's revival. Naturally, everyone wanted to meet this mysterious figure.
Among the guests were Abhilash Sharma and Shreya Thakur.
Abhilash belonged to an elite family known across Mumbai—his father a titan in real estate, his mother a respected socialite. Shreya's father, coincidentally, was an old friend of Abhilash's father, and heir to the once-dominant Thakur family.
Two years ago, Abhilash returned from university and launched a multi-sector business empire—hotels, real estate, foreign trade, domestic commerce. His father's influence made him unstoppable.
But a question lingered...
If Abhilash's family is so powerful, how did the Thakur family become the owners of his family company?
Did something happen between them in the past?
Would Abhilash and Shreya realize they were guests at Aryan's party?
And most importantly…
What lies ahead for Aryan in this world of wealth, power, and betrayal?