Chapter 1

The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry ~ Robert Burns

As the aircraft speedily floated downwards to touch the ground, Maahi stared outside seeing nothing, clutching the armrests of her first-class window seat with dear life. When, after an eternity, her flight landed on the airstrip with a muted thud and a slight jerk to her person, she sagged back in relief. Thanking God for landing safely, she instinctively turned her head to check on her brother. He was smiling at her from across the aisle, shaking his head. He always found her fear of flying amusing. Maahi grinned back trying to hide her unease. He did not know that while she hated flying, she hated airports more.

Much more, when he was flying with her.

"Welcome to Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport, Mumbai. The temperature outside is in high 30 degrees. The local time is 11:30 pm. Please remain seated till the seatbelt sign is on. Electronic devices can be switched on. Passengers with connecting flight- all other flights are on schedule. Have a safe journey ahead. Passengers with Mumbai as their final destination can find baggage claim information at the gate. Thank you for flying with American Airlines. We sincerely hope you fly with us again in the future," the pilot's voice reverberated as the aircraft taxied towards the gate.

People got up and moving as soon as the seatbelt sign turned off, retrieving their hand luggage from under the consoles. Air hostesses started flittering around helping them. Maahi noticed the American air hostess who was subtly trying to flirt with her brother throughout the flight, batting her eyelashes at him again. Wryly, Maahi wondered how she would react if she were told that the handsome six feet tall, fair, aristocratic, and lithe looking first-class passenger, whose attention she was trying to grab is not a wealthy businessman or an Indian actor, but the heir to the most powerful mafia empire of the Indian subcontinent. Third-generation criminal blood. Not very pleasantly, she was sure. It was altogether a different thing that Kunal Ranjan Vaghela, her elder brother and stand-in father cum mother, was busy with his Blackberry and paid no heed to the simpering woman. Maahi smiled in approval. Her brother was getting married soon and she expected nothing less than complete loyalty from him towards her would-be sister-in-law, Natasha. 

Maahi stood up stretching, brushed her long thick ponytail with her fingers, smoothed her leggings and oversized topper. She liked to dress comfortably for long flights, except for her gravity-defying designer footwear to compensate for her short 5 feet 2 inches frame. That, she could wear to bed.

"Gudiya, got your stuff?" her brother asked extending his free hand, standing with his own carry-on bag in the other.

She nodded and extended her duffle bag to him, keeping her purse with herself. Now starts the humiliation, Maahi sighed as they filed in the line towards the exit. And sure enough, there stood two airport security people, staring at them directly, openly singling them out from the crowd. 

Kunal Ranjan Vaghela flying international always stirred up security at airports, regardless of the country. She knew the drill by heart now. While everyone turned right towards the immigration counter, they turned left and followed the two men. After a short walk, they entered a huge room with an exclusive security post and sharp-looking airport staff waiting behind the counter. Maahi made a move towards the cluster of plastic chairs in the corner. They will make them wait unnecessarily, trying to drive the point that Vaghelas or not, the law can detain them if it bloody wishes. Then they will bring in their luggage and turn it upside down in front of them like they are fools who will fly with a stash of drugs or illegal arms. Others will check their passports and documents for fraudulence from every which angle. Again, as if they are fools who would fly internationally with fake documents. Question them on some occasions. But at least in India, airport officials looked at Kunal Bhai with fear and police people fell over each other to appease him. 

"Kunal Vaghela?" she heard someone say. A crisp-looking man in plain clothes walked past her and flashed an ID to her brother when he reached him. His expressions were peculiarly beady.

As he started speaking, Maahi could see Kunal bhaiya's easy demeanor stiffening gradually. Her heart thudded, knowing that it will not take even a blink of an eye to change everything if their luck turns. Power was as fragile as it was robust. One wrong move and the balance tips against you. Maahi kept fidgeting in her place, trying to appear composed on the outside. After a lengthy exchange of heated words, Kunal bhaiya broke away and walked towards her with a strained smile, but thankfully without getting arrested.

"Who was he?" she asked worriedly as he sat beside her.

Bhaiya narrowed his eyes at her meaningfully. She held his eyes for a while, but eventually gave up and turned away with a huff. He never told her anything. After years of hearing, you are better off not knowing about business and you know that Gudiya, one would think she must have learned to keep her mouth shut. But this time she will feel really really guilty if he gets into a scuffle with the law. He had come for the valedictory ceremony of her graduation at UCLA. He refused to be absent on such a big day of her life when the families of all her friends were flying in for the occasion. She knew the hazards of her brother's occupation, but this one would be on her.

She felt a loving pat on her head just then. "There is nothing to worry about," he said. Kunal bhaiya loved her too much to worry her but after twenty-four years of her existence in the Vaghela family, she could make out that the man in plain clothes was not nothing to worry about.

Anyway, by the grace of God, after two torturous hours, they were on their way towards the terminal exit.

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Car from Vaghela house was parked exactly in front of the gates, waiting for them. Black SUV with black leather seats and black tinted windows. Smack dab in the middle of the no parking zone. And on the bonnet, ignoring the curious and furious glances of common people who were not even allowed to stop their vehicles there for more than ten minutes, comfortably sat Jayant. Samar's right-hand man. He was also her able bodyguard whenever she came down for vacations from the USA. A few years older than herself, good looking and a fun-loving person whom she had come to consider a friend. He was chattering a mile a dozen with a police constable who was leaning onto the bonnet, nodding intermittently. As soon as he spotted them, he waved and jumped off the bonnet. The constable too stood up straight.

"Bas***d didn't come himself" Kunal bhaiya grumbled, pushing the trolley.

Bas***d meaning Samar Jagtap. Their employee who had climbed up the hierarchy at a maddening speed in recent years. So high now, that as a partial partner in the business, he was the only one who could and did overrule Kunal bhaiya's dictate without blinking an eyelid.

"Jayant is very competent bhaiya," she tried to pacify her brother.

"Jayant is not in charge of your security. That bas***d is."

Maahi rolled her eyes but kept quiet. Bhaiya knew that Samar has become too important and too busy to follow her around like a mere bodyguard. Nowadays, though he kept a tight leash on her security arrangements, he delegated the actual job to his men. She was safe, but her brother still felt guilty for that mishap a few years back. She knew that it stung him to the core that her security was under Samar's command. He resented the fact that it was Samar who kept her safe. 

"Salaam, Kunal Bhai", Jayant raised his right palm to his heart, as per the custom of all the men who worked for her family. Samar, however, offered this honor just to her grandfather. "Welcome home, Maahiji. It's good to see you." 

Jayant greeted her and took the trolley from Kunal bhaiya. The constable mumbled a per functionary "Salaam, Kunal bhai,' and scurried off.

"Nice to see you too Jayant," Maahi smiled back.

Quickly they all settled in the car. She and her brother in the back seat of the bullet-proof SUV, Jayant in the front seat beside the driver.

"Salaam, Maahiji" the driver greeted her when inside.

"Hello Mohan, how are you?"

"Good," the shy middle-aged man replied.

Mohan was a proficient driver and a skilled marksman rolled into one, again appointed by Samar after the issue of her security had gained a steep momentum a few years back. 

As the car passed through the outer security check post of the airport, Kunal Bhaiya asked Jayant, "Did they do a sweep?"

"Thoroughly. Twice" Jayant replied.

Her brother grunted, and Maahi wondered if he was expecting anything different? All cars from Vaghela House were checked at the airport every time in her experience.

They had gone barely two kilometers when Mohan parked the car on the side curb, where another black SUV was waiting. Jayant and Mohan stepped out, and a man jumped out of the other car and walked towards theirs. Kunal Bhaiya rolled down his window.

"Welcome back, bhai, Maahiji," the man smiled.

"Thank you Maajid. How are you?" Maahi replied. Short, stocky, and agile, Maajid was her brother's, right-hand man. She should have known that bhaiya won't let Samar take total control as long as he is with her.

"First class, Maahiji".

"Who is with you?" Kunal bhaiya tipped his head towards the idling vehicle.

"Bhai, Birje", Maajid replied.

Kunal bhai approved. Birje was his man, a very scary one at that.

Without delay, Maajid produced three handheld revolvers. One he handed to Kunal Bhaiya and the other two he gave to Jayant and Mohan. Maahi heard the trunk of their car open and a few ammunitions getting stuffed in there too. Maahi tuned out the proceedings with a learned resignation. She was the precious cargo of Vaghela Mafia Industries. When she's traveling, there was always a possibility that someone could take out her flight itinerary with a little hacking. Neither Samar nor Kunal Bhaiya would take so many precautions otherwise for such a short distance, and that too all in the city. But it was also true that any of them could be shot dead any moment and were alive due to the intricate dynamics of politics, power, money, favors, fear of actions-reactions and repercussions, which start from non-descript dark alleys and go up to the highest political offices of the country.

Their car moved again, now following the car in which Maajid and Birje sat. Maahi diverted her attention to the sleeping Mumbai, which was already showing signs of stirring up for the next day. A restless soul, this city. Too many people and everyone was in a hurry with nowhere to go. Stuck in the confines of the city that offered no escape once you come here. Just like her. She was back here for good, though she did not want to. But her beloved father-like brother lived and loved it here, and that was motivation enough for her. And she has lived all her life here. So yeah, no big deal.

However, a premonition that something, or maybe everything was going to change this time was nagging her since the moment the air of this city touched her face. For good or for bad, she was not sure.

When the cars entered heavily guarded Vaghela House, against all her proclamations, Maahi did slouch in her seat as a subconscious protest against getting swallowed back into the stately house made on a prime plot in one of the costliest cities in the world. It was always a fortress to her and will always remain so. Her family could weigh her in gold thousand times over, but they cannot afford her a single breath of freedom. Freedom from fear of police and law, freedom from the fear of death or abduction, freedom from constantly looking over the shoulder for enemies, freedom from suspecting every soul that strays in her path. Now that she had tasted freedom in America, it made her insides suffocate at the prospect of stepping back into her family's lair. This time she will know what she was leaving outside those huge rot-iron gates. 

"Dadu is not home tonight," Kunal bhaiya informed her as they alighted the car.

Works fine for her. So late in the night, she could really do without their grandfather’s inevitable lecture about how much she has grown up in the last year and hints that she should be ready for marriage in a decent family.

"He will be here early morning," Kunal bhaiya continued.

"Okay, " she smiled. 

"Natasha and her family are coming over for lunch tomorrow, to meet you," he added.

At that, Maahi perked up. "Great. I can't wait to meet bhabhi."

Kunal smiled. "You go and sleep now. Wait, are you hungry? Do you want me to send something to your room?"

"Bhaiya, I know where the kitchen is. I'll help myself. Don't worry. You go and sleep. You look tired". 

He nodded because he really was tired after crossing the globe twice in the last three days. He kissed his little sister's forehead and walked to his room to sleep. 

Maahi on the other hand went to her room and started rummaging her luggage that had been hauled there, with a purpose. It must be done right away. Bhaiya wouldn't like it if he sees it!

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Smoke.

Of the three nightclubs that Vaghela's owned, the businesses where Vaghelas laundered more than half of their wealth, Smoke was under Samar Jagtap's control, with the partial partnership. Samar was the mafia kingpin Lala Amarnath Vaghela's, who was Kunal and Maahi's paternal grandfather, protege. At least, that was the belief of the public at large. In reality, he was a force of destiny whom Lalaji could not contain and had to give in to eventually. 

Vaghelas and Samar had major control over the transit of heroin and opium en-route to Europe and South Africa from Myanmar, Laos, Thailand, Central Asia, and Pakistan via India. In this club, Samar peddled around forty-five percent of drugs they themselves dealt in each quarter. The other two clubs, which were under Kunal's control, peddled the rest. The only reason that Samar got more business done was the inferno burning deep in his gut that compelled him to out-succeed and outwit Kunal Ranjan Vaghela at each step. However, giving the credit where it was due, he has long conceded that Kunal was a worthy opponent in every regard. But being born into money and power, one thing he lacked was the eager drive to make his way in the world, whereas Samar had literally clawed his way up the ladder of success with his bare fingernails. Feverish with a need to succeed in the world, he had sweated blood instead of water for years. Bathed in it. No one had been allowed to stand in his way. He had been determined to grab the pinnacle. Determined to destroy anyone who could be a threat. No matter the cost. 

Six feet two inches of intimidating muscular physique, short-cropped black hair atop a weather-roughened fair face, honey brown eyes that would have looked warm on anyone else, straight jaw with light scruffy stubble, the said man was standing behind the soundproof one-way glass wall on the first floor of the west wing of the club. This section was his office and his vantage point from where he kept an acute eye on the activities of the club every night. Strapped in a leather shoulder gun holster tucked into which was his reliable licensed Glock-19 pistol and its cartridges. A small diamond stud pierced in the lobe of his right ear, dressed in a dark grey button-down shirt with sleeves rolled up to elbows, black pants and sturdy Italian shoes and a bulky watch wound around his left wrist, he stood there like a hawk, watching the bar downstairs where the booze was flowing, and the dance floor where barely conscious spoiled brats of Mumbai millionaires were grinding against each other to the music. From here, he also kept an eye on the ten private lounges that had an entry fee of twenty thousand INR per person, directly opposite to him, on the first floor of the east wing. Six of them were occupied for the night. Smoke wasn't cheap, but it was insanely popular among the high-profile crowd looking for a fix who was ready to pay with their souls for quality stuff. 

It was his determination that this club was a teeming establishment. The wayward youth of this city of crushed dreams flocked this place like suicidal Jatinga birds every night. Ready to shell out any amount for a few hours of high and Samar was only too glad to help them feel good. But the risk was equally high while dealing in such a public place, thus he made sure to be present here every night, just in case. There had been two raids on this club till date, and not once could they find anything, courtesy Samar's extremely strong information network. He was always prepared for all eventualities. His reputation, Vaghela name, and clean bill time and again had earned the club an unparalleled trust for itself among its patrons. His men who dealt at the forefront could smell police and miscreants from a mile away. He himself could sniff out f**king moles with a simple whiff. 

In fact, he had a canary caged in the basement strong room of this very club since a week. This one came from higher up ranks of the Central Narcotics Branch. And he needed to make this canary sing soon, but was patiently waiting as Kunal was returning from the USA tonight and Samar was sure with their precious implant missing since a week, Narcotics Department will corner him at the airport. He was hoping for the asshole's arrest. Once back in his domain it was difficult to even meet the Asshole Vaghela, let alone question him. With one hand folded across his chest and the elbow of the other resting on it, Samar rolled his ear stud absent-mindedly between his fingers. He accepted that it was a long shot. Juvenile even. But he had nothing to lose here and any strategy, however big or small, to eliminate Kunal Ranjan Vaghela from his path deserved a chance. 

That very moment, the cell phone in his pocket vibrated vehemently. He fished it out and pressed answer.

"Salaam Bhai," Jayant spoke.

"Yes?"

"They reached Vaghela House... Maahiji reached, I mean."

Of course, she reached. He would burn Mumbai down and line up dead bodies from Vashi to Santa Cruz before sunrise if she hadn't. Everyone knew who Maahi Vaghela's security in-charge is and no one in their right mind wants to die. But damn, it also means that the asshole didn't get arrested. "Good". 

A short silence followed. "Are you going to… come here?" Jayant's unsure voice rang.

Samar's brows pinched together. His attention from the dance floor veered back instantly to the call. 

"Why? Is she not fine?"

Jayant smiled. There. That telltale catch invoice at the mere possibility of Maahiji not being okay. It held a promise that he will cross dimensions of the universe to reach her if she needs him.

"Is she sick? Did something happen to her? Jayant?" concerned questions barreled out.

Should have thought this through before opening the mouth, Jayant kicked himself. "No... She is perfectly fine ... but.."

At that, after a moment too long, Samar's voice hardened. "But what? Did by any happy chance her brother keel over and died while you were transporting him?"

"N... no."

"Did someone kill him as a favor to humanity?"

Jayant gulped. "No".

"He is alive. In one piece. In his house?"

Y.. yes."

"Then why the hell do you think I would want to come there? To do his aarti?" Samar bellowed.

"No bhai... I thought Maahiji..."

"Jayant" he cut him off testily, "Stop thinking and stop trying to cozy up to Maahi. Come back to the club, I have work for you."

Before Jayant could reply, the line went dead. Jayant stared at his phone.

"Jayant," he heard his name being called.

He turned to find Maahiji standing behind him with a gift-wrapped parcel. Damn, how much did she hear? Then he shrugged. What could have she made out even if she had heard? It is not like he was given a lot of opening to speak.

"Thank God you haven't left." 

" Samar bhai…" he waved his phone to her.

Maahi nodded understandingly.

"He was asking about you," he improvised.

Her brows furrowed slightly at the unsolicited information.

"He was ... concerned."

"Of course," comprehension dawned in her eyes. "He is in charge of my security, Jayant. Anyway, leave that. Here, I got this for you. Calvin Klein perfume. You like it, don't you?"

She extended the parcel.

"Oh Maahiji, you didn't have to, really!" his eyes lit up in excitement. He had mentioned in the passing the last year she was here that he liked perfumes. She remembered that? And she even got a pricey one as a gift for him? Wow. "It is too much Maahiji," he still insisted.

"Don't even think of saying no," Maahi chided good-naturedly. "I got it especially for you."

"Thank you. Really. I love it."

He knew there was a reason he was partial towards his Samar Bhai's arch enemy's sister. She was the most thoughtful woman he has ever met.

She beamed at him. She has taken a genuine liking towards this easygoing aide of Samar. And it would do her no good to be on hostile terms with her own bodyguard. They stood happily chatting up when her phone rang. 

"I have to take this," she peered at the screen of her ringing phone with a huge smile lighting her face. "Good Night, Jayant".

"Good Night, Maahiji."

She turned back with an unmistakable skip in her steps. "Hey, sweetheart ... So, you finally woke up? ... I know, I was waiting for your call ... Yup, landed safely, the pilot turned out to be competent after all" he heard her say with a giggle as she disappeared into the house.

Jayant squinted. Sweetheart? Does Maahiji have an American boyfriend? Nah, he shook his head as if warding off the insane possibility physically. Must be some girlfriend. Rich people talk to each other like this only, don't they? Maahiji knew better than to string some pansy-ass firang to his death, considering she comes with a deadly baggage named Kunal Ranjan Vaghela. In fact, should he himself meddle? Jayant worried about his own ass which would be very sorry if things don't pan out as he is hoping.

Will Maahiji be interested in Samar Bhai? About Samar Bhai he was sure. He has never seen the dangerous man go from heartless mobster to all heart faster than whenever Maahiji is mentioned. It couldn't just be a duty. Samar bhai is tied up in knots since she went away to the USA for studies. Distances, hearts, and all that. And since he has experienced love in his own life, Jayant was a strong crusader for it. It changes lives, especially in this line of work where life is such an unpredictable and uncertain commodity. And no one deserves it more than Samar Bhai. And he owes it to him. Due to the friendship Samar bhai's deceased mother shared with his own mother, he has been nothing but extremely supportive of him. When he could not find employment, Samar bhai took him under his wings. Protected him from bullets until he became capable of taking care of himself. And now when his stupid younger brother is getting fascinated with the world of crime, Samar bhai is being so understanding of his reluctance to let him step in this sinkhole. Instead of luring in one more eager young man into his fold, he is making sure Jayesh does not rake up a charge sheet at the police station. He is like an elder brother to them.

And this elder brother definitely has a soft spot for a very beautiful Maahiji. Agreed their past is entangled in the worse way possible. If they ever get together, it will be an uphill journey from the word go. It's complicated, is the only way to explain Kunal bhai and Samar bhai's deep-seated bitterness. And Maahiji does love her brother damn too much. But no one is forcing her to give Samar bhai a chance, just a nudge maybe. She knows the score. Especially her. Though everyone else too knows the ugly reason for animosity between these two powerful men. That tale had been getting regaled with relish from one person to the other for years. No one, however, has the courage to say or ask anything in front of either of them. Both are violently sensitive about the topic and prefer an absolute silence on it. The air of curiosity around them, however, never cools down. It simmers on, in some way or form, behind their backs, in hushed voices.

How come Samar Jagtap holds such an important position in Vaghela business, when he clearly does not enjoy formidable heir Kunal Ranjan Vaghela's vote of confidence? 

Why is shrewd and resourceful Samar Jagtap sticking it out with the Vaghelas, when there is no love lost from his side too?

Why Lala Amarnath Vaghela, who is visibly partial towards his grandson, holding his peace in front of this time bomb waiting to explode?

And most of all, how the hell Samar Jagtap defied all the odds stacked against him and became as powerful as the family he works for?

Hope you guys liked it!! To be continued in the next chapter.

Please do let me know what you think through your comments and votes.