My Beating Pulse

Vansh My eyes followed the blood trail flowing towards the gutter drain, a small smile appeared on my lips on its own. It feels good to take revenge, especially on someone who betrayed us by being a snitch. Our world is different from the rest, there is no room for errors and have massive consequences. People think that they can play us and get away with it, but it’s never that easy, we have eyes and ears everywhere, nothing a quick buck can fix. I looked up at the culprit, who thought he would snitch on us to the police and get away with it but here he is sitting on a chair covered with electric wires, face unrecognizable, none of his fingers and toes left and hardly breathing. That is not an issue, we have Vittal, who will bring him back to life, and we will start our artwork again. My father Bhupat Singh, is just like his name known as “lord of the lands”. He started an organization in the 80’s. Another name for it is land mafia. He is ruthless when it comes to business and family. He ruled our state from small pickpockets to big politicians, he knew how to keep them under his thumb and money played a huge part. He was unstoppable then, but as time passed and the government changed he knew that the only way to survive was to go legit, but only as a front. He started a company “Silver Gate Reality”, a legal way of acquiring land and laundering money through that. He’s unstoppable like that. If he sees an opportunity, he takes it and doesn’t let anyone cross him by hook or by crook. But his personal life was a disaster, not for him though, but for his wife and children. He married my mom when he was in his 20’s, and no, not for love. It was a business deal. He married her to get access to my mother’s political family side. It was an arranged marriage of sorts. He wooed her until they got married and jokes on my mother because on the wedding night itself he showed his true self. A cruel monster. My mom was abused physically, mentally and emotionally. Whenever my father wanted some work from her family, he would be nice to her, take her on dates, give her gifts but once the work is done, he would turn back to his usual cruel self. My mothers self-confidence crumbled and she turned into this needy lady who would do anything to please my father, she fell in love with a monster and paid for it till her last breathe. She committed suicide when I was 15 years old, she knew my father had affairs but that day was the first time, she saw it with her own eyes. She walked into my father’s home office and caught them red-handed, not that my father cared, he was unbothered as always. It broke her heart and took her life without even an ounce of care about her kids. My brother and I were in school when it happened, no one informed us, when we came home, our father nonchalantly informed us that our mother was no-more. Maybe that is the reason why my brother and I are so detached with everything emotional. Only loyalty we have for is each other. But other than that we are f****d up in our head just like our father. My lowlife culprit, Pankaj’s whimper brought me back from the trip down to childhood memory lane that I had going on. I got up and cleaned my hands and handed my wrench to Vittal to take care of the rest. I don’t care what kind of explanation he had or why he did it. Only thing matters is he did it and now he has to pay the price, with his life. “Take care of the body” That’s all I said and Vittal gave me a slight nod already too excited to play with his prey. He is one f****d up motherfucker. I came out of the cell checking my phone if there was any message but there was none. My father built this dungeon with multiple cells and one office for whoever will be incharge here, that is Vittal now but when we visit, it is ours to use. He built a night club on top of this dungeon which was brilliant since no one can even fathom something like this is going on in the basement. I came out to the back alley of the nightclub where there were few people smoking and talking, clearly they were drunk but I paid them no heed. I went to the entrance to check the vibe for tonight and there was a long line of people waiting to get into one of the happening clubs in the city. I ignored them and moved to the main door, heard some remarks on how I’m cutting the line and smirked. Clueless bastards. People know me as cold, heartless and cruel, and it’s all true. I couldn’t care less about anyone but my brother and our work. If anyone crosses our path, they sure pay with their life. I gave the bouncers a nod and went in. Our nightclub is called “Night owl” and its known for the spectacular parties that happen every night. It’s known for it’s amazing food as well, our chef is one of the few people who I can call as my friend, Mariam. She is a badass, who doesn’t care about anyone’s opinion and is cover in tattoos and piercings. I met her in our line of work where she was drugged and r***d and was about to be trafficked to other country. Even though I’m in mafia and deal with drugs, guns and ammunitions and land acquisition but human and organ trafficking is where I draw the line. None of it under my nose, my father also stays away from it, says it’s too much of a hassle than money involved, which works for me. Night owl has 3 floors, first one is dance floor, second is VIP lounge and third is my office, kind off turned it into a small apartment, when there is a lot of work and need to pull an all-nighter I just stay here rather than commuting to my penthouse. I glanced at the dance floor, some DJ was playing some hippie music and people were having the time of their life, it was jam-packed. I turned towards the stairs to the second floor and something caught my eye. A short girl with thick black hair and a short dress that hugged her curves perfectly was talking to the wall. Wait, not just talking but yelling at it. I slanted my head a bit to have a clear look at this girl who is either drunk off her mind or has serious mental issues. Her hair flows down till her waist, her pale skin shines like a diamond in the dark club, her legs long enough to make a grown man mind wonder into dark places but her face, “Angel” is the word that pops into my mind. Her beauty is profound, not the kind that attracts the crowd but the kind that settles in your heart. But now her face scowls as she tries to hurl her drink at the wall, I stride towards her and hold her wrist before she throws it. Her whole body goes stiff and she slowly turned towards me. Her doe eyes widen when she looks at me, her lips part drawing my attention to her full lips. I have never been short of female attention in my life but this girl intrigues me. “What do you think you are doing?” I asked in a strict voice, wanting to scare her. No matter how she looks, I don’t want her damaging the property. It will create unnecessary nuisance. She looked at me stupefied and shook her head as if coming out of a trance. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m teaching this bastard a lesson” She sneers pointing at the wall, her words slur which proves my point. This girl is drunk. “First of all, it’s a wall. There is no one in front of you. Second of all, throwing glasses will damage my property and not to forget, the shards might hurt people around here” I said moving my head towards people who are around us, some watching us and some in their own world. “Huh” was her only response as she pouts turning towards the wall. I hate that I lost her attention. “So, I can leave your hand, right? You won’t hurl that glass?” I asked as my palm itches at the thought of leaving her soft skin. “Yes” came her soft voice. I left her wrist and lowered my hand as my phone started ringing. She stood there staring at the wall with her hand lowered as well. I took a few steps away from her and took my phone out of my pocket. It’s my brother Vihaan. “Hello” I answered. “Our father is dead” came my brother’s voice. A loud noise that surpassed the club music came from behind me. I turned to see that girl had hurled the glass at the wall and people around her were screaming as she laughed like a witch. Ay-ay-ay !