The Rebel Heiress: Raised as a Son

Chapter 6: The Devil’s First Demand

The morning at Delhi Elite University felt like a countdown to an explosion. Abhi walked through the corridors, her face a mask of cold indifference, but her mind was a battlefield. She had barely slept, the feel of Dev’s gaze and his dangerous words echoing in her head.

As she reached her locker, she found a small, black envelope tucked into the vent. No name. Just a wax seal with the letter ‘M’.

Inside was a single handwritten line: “Meet me at the old gymnasium. 10 minutes. Don’t make me wait, Prince.”

Abhi’s knuckles turned white as she crushed the paper. She had no choice. She took a deep breath, adjusted her blazer, and headed toward the deserted wing of the campus.

The old gym was dim and smelled of dust and old leather. Dev was there, sitting on a high vaulting horse, tossing a basketball casually. He looked up as Abhi entered, his smirk wider than ever.

"You're late, Singh. Three minutes exactly," Dev said, jumping down with the grace of a panther.

"Cut the crap, Dev," Abhi growled, her voice dropping into that husky tone. "You said you wanted a price for your silence. What is it? Money? Land? My father’s shares?"

Dev laughed, a low, melodic sound that sent a shiver of rage down Abhi’s spine. He stepped into her personal space, so close that she could smell his expensive cedarwood cologne.

"I don't need your father’s money, Abhi. I have plenty of my own," Dev whispered, leaning in until his lips were inches from her ear. "My first demand is simple. From today, you are my personal assistant. You’ll carry my bags, you’ll bring me coffee, and you’ll do whatever I say in front of the whole college."

Abhi gasped, her eyes wide with shock. "You want me to be your... servant? In front of everyone? My father would kill me! The Singh heir doesn't bow to anyone!"

"The Singh heir is a girl, Abhi," Dev’s voice was suddenly cold and sharp like a razor. "If the world finds out, bowing to me will be the least of your problems. You’ll be a disgrace, a scandal, and your father’s empire will crumble in a day."

He reached out, his thumb slowly brushing against Abhi's chin, a move that was both a threat and a caress. "So, what’s it going to be? Your pride... or your life?"

Abhi looked into his dark, mocking eyes. She felt like a bird trapped in a cage, and Dev was the one holding the key.

"Fine," she spat out, the word feeling like ash in her mouth. "I'll do it."

"Good girl," Dev smirked, intentionally using the word 'girl' to provoke her. He tossed the basketball to her. "Now, go get me a cold espresso. Double shot. And hurry up, assistant."

As Abhi walked away, her heart was burning with a mixture of hatred and a strange, terrifying spark she couldn't name. The war had just become personal.