Hey all, welcome to the first sneak peek at the Privileged Bad Boys. Chirag likes silence because his dad taught him to, and if you like bad boys, he’s for you.
I walk across campus like I always do, through the noise and the looks that follow me without shame. Some curious, some hungry, some cautious.
I don’t react. I learned a long time ago that attention is just another kind of silence. They want what I’m ready to give, but I can’t. My father would cut my heart through my chest and still make me sit on the throne. I breathe or don’t doesn’t make a difference.
“Hey, Chirag.”
I look up and see Ritesh standing in front of me. He’s part of the football team and has been wanting to get into my group. But Girish doesn’t like him, and I don’t care enough to change his opinion.
He’s built up good, and track has helped him tone his muscles.
“You want anything?” I ask, not really caring that I can’t muster a cheer in my voice.
This is the day. The day my mask slips.
“No…” he stammers. “Just saw you so said hi.”
“Really?”
He takes a step back. “Sorry to bother you.”
He leaves and I continue my march. We have massive grounds, and walking under the sun is just my thing. I left my lecture, not feeling like attending.
When I was a kid, I wanted to blend in, to be one of the boys no one noticed. That ended the day my father decided I needed to see what our world really was.
He made me see him torturing an entire family.
It was… just the way it was.
He kept me in a cage in the corner of the room that had actual iron bars as if I could even dare move from the position he kept me in.
Son or not, my father was very particular about loyalty and obedience.
I had a bucket to myself, a thin mattress that smelled like someone else’s fear, and stale air to keep me company.
Every morning, the latch would scrape open, and Veer, his right hand, would stand there. He stayed patient, never rushed. He would walk me to the bathroom, watch me wash, make sure I put on clean clothes, fed me breakfast, then bring me back and lock me in again.
Exactly one hour outside those bars. Not a minute more.
I was thirteen and already learning how small a life could become.
By the time I returned, the cage was cleaned, sanitized, as if my father actually cared about me, which had to be absurd, and a fantasy I no longer have.
But he did care about his heir, which was me. Lucky me.
Veer called it training. Said it with the kind of calm that only men who have stopped feeling anything can manage. And I had to master it.
Over the years I did master it. This was one day I let myself feel.
Veer didn’t know, but for me, it felt like a switch being flipped. One moment I was a boy who still believed in normal things, and the next I wasn’t. There was no struggle, no dramatic breaking point.
Just a quiet closing inside my chest, like a door that decided it would never open again.
The torture went on for twenty-one days. Twenty-one long unbearable days, that felt I forever. At one point, I thought this is it. This is where I die. And maybe that would have been relief. But that didn’t happen.
The room stayed alive with sound. Screams that tore through the walls, voices begging until they turned hoarse, then into nothing but broken breaths. Sometimes there was silence, the kind that presses against your ears until you start hearing things that are not there.
The smell never left. Blood, urine, the slow rot of a body that had died but hadn’t been taken away. It settled into everything, into my clothes, my skin, my throat. I stopped reacting to it after a while, became numb.
That was part of the training too. Going numb was required in this job.
A guy steps in front of me now and bows his head as I pass.
I don’t slow down. Respect given out of fear is predictable, and predictable things don’t interest me.
Just then Girish finds me. He falls into step beside me.
He glances at me once, quick and sharp, then looks away. He knows better than to fill the silence when I am like this. He knows what today is.
His eyes move instead, scanning the open ground, the corners, the people who linger a second too long. There is nothing today though. No threat, no disruption.
It’s just another quiet morning pretending to be normal.
The family my father chose that time to torture and end belonged to one of his own men. Loyalty is always temporary in our world. The man had tried to trade information for safety, talking to policemen who pretended they were not already on my father’s payroll. But they were.
They were the kind who hunt rats while living like one. My father’s accountant had no idea how deep the rot went, how deep his contacts were, even though he handled every number that passed through our hands.
But that was who my father is. What he does, only he knows. He never opens all his cards to everyone. He draws the web so deep that even his closest associates never know the whole picture. And that screws them up if they play unfair.
He’s cunning to the point that will make you go insane, like you actually losing your mind. When he smiles, you actually tremble because you know your time is up.
By the time Prakash understood what he had done, it was already over. He killed his wife himself, quick and desperate, knowing what would happen to her otherwise. Like that would fix anything. Maybe he thought he could save them from the torture. But he did not get the chance to finish what he started. My father arrived before that. He always does.
He kept Prakash alive until the last day, and before he killed everyone from his family in front of him. My dad could torture, and if he really came in mood, he could make you regret every breath you take.
Our family pandit, whom my dad religiously consulted, had given a time, a precise moment that was meant for good deeds, even the annihilation of enemies. Or rats.
My father believed in that kind of balance. Enemies counted as part of it.
When the hour came, he ended it. Without remorse.
One person survived. His daughter. If that is what you call it. She had stopped screaming long before the end, her voice worn down to nothing.
On the last day, my father made sure it stayed that way. Permanently.
He cut away her tongue.
Now she lives in our house, moving through it like a shadow that has forgotten who it belonged to. She cleans, she cooks, she keeps her head down. She does not speak because she cannot, and she does not write because she was never allowed to learn.
Whatever she was before those twenty-one days is gone.
We call her Vani. The name tastes like a joke every time it is said. It means speech, given to someone who will never have it again. I have tried to see if there is anything left in her eyes, any flicker of memory or anger. There is nothing I can hold on to. Just emptiness that does its job and disappears when it is not needed.
She’s two years younger than me, so seventeen now.
Vani is not allowed outside the house. Not beyond the gates, not beyond the watch of my father’s men. Except for one day. This one. I asked for that. I had completed a job, one that mattered enough for my father to offer me something in return, and I chose this.
To give Vani a day that’s different from the rest of the three-sixty-four days.
It did not make sense to anyone else, but it did to me.
For twenty-one days, we had been together in that room, and it felt as if I was responsible for her.
I do not call it guilt. I do not call it anything. It just is.
My father agreed, reminding me if not for my mother, Vani would be in a far worse place. I don’t doubt that. I know where and how young girls can be used, especially the beautiful ones like Vani.
He said they had given her a roof, food, a place to exist, and she didn’t even deserve any of that, after what her father had done.
I don’t doubt that, either. Life in our world was different than how it went in the rest of the world. So once a year, I take her out of that house. The only day she is allowed beyond those walls.
“It’s that time of the year,” Girish announces like I don’t know.
Still I don’t lose control. I’m not much of a talker, so I just nod.
He offers me a cigarette. I take it without looking at him. He shields the flame with his hand and I lean in just enough. The tip glows, steady and bright. I draw the smoke in, hold it until it settles, then let it slip out slowly. It burns in a way that feels controlled. Predictable.
I came to college, hoping to get the day over with, and take Vani out in the evening. But that’s not happening, so I thought I better go home before anyone sees me, and how pathetic I become on this day.
Girish keeps pace, staying silent beside me. By the time we reach my car, he is already at the rear door, pulling it open and stepping aside. I slide in, the leather cool against my back, the faint scent of polish and something darker settling around me.
A second later, he is in the driver’s seat, engine coming alive with a low, satisfied purr.
The Lamborghini moves before the world can catch up. I lower the window and let the smoke drift out into the morning air, watching it disappear as we head home.
We reach home, and I head to the servant quarters, not wanting to go inside the house. The corridor is narrow, lined with closed doors, each one identical to the next. The air is cooler here, carrying the faint smell of detergent and something metallic underneath.
I stop at the last door and knock once. There is a pause, then the handle turns.
Vani opens it, already dressed in the dress I gave her last year. It fits her perfectly, just like last year. Vani hasn’t put on any weight at all.
Her hair is tied back, neat, like she has been waiting.
She smiles when she sees me, quick and unguarded, like there is nothing in the world that should make her hesitate. I hold her gaze for a second, then look away.
“Let’s go.”
Her hands move, quick, asking a question I do not need translated. Why so early?
“Because I’m busy later.”
Her face falls before she recovers and nods. She likes to go out in the evening because she likes to see the light. But today is a little harder than the last year.
“Come, I will take you to a movie later.”
Her eyes lit up. I smile. She steps out and closes the door. She is bare, not that she has a purse she can carry, or a phone. She has nothing except for the things I give her.
My father makes her wear anklets that tinkle whenever she walks. I like the sound of it, and step outside.
Girish is there, and he steps forward, but I raise my hand, stopping him.
“I will manage.”
“Chirag, not a good idea.”
“Yeah, you think.”
Girish doesn’t argue which is good for him.
I open the door, and Vani sits. I close the door and walk around to the driver’s seat. I get in and start the car. I put on music and Vani smiles.
Her foot taps against the floor and her anklets making soothing sounds until we stop in front of a shop. I step out and walk around her, opening her door.
This is our ritual. I always buy her a new dress on this day, that we call it as her birthday. But it’s the opposite. This the day she actually died.
I like being around her because I don’t have to bother with conversations.
She tries the dress and I choose a red one this time. Vani is beautiful, but I don’t feel for her that way. She’s like my sister. I already have three so I know how it feels.
Once she changes into the new dress, and we leave, I actually feel a bit okay. I don’t think she remembers me from those days. The boy who tried to console her the first day, as she cried and shuddered continuously.
We reach the restaurant, and I open the door for her. It’s a five-star restaurant. She looks around, but I bring her to good places every year.
The manager comes running, showing me to the best table.
Vani sits, smiling at me. She gestures to my face and makes an action with her thumb and forefinger, asking me why such a sad face.
Today has been hard, from the other years.
Last night I had a nightmare, and it ruined whatever composure I had built.
I smile. And she smiles back, like it’s so easy.
I was as terrified as her on the first day. I cried, begged my dad to let me go. I even told him I would be a good boy, that I would stop playing, and only study, but he didn’t budge.
My mother had no say in it, and then she left us, making me responsible for my three sisters. And Vani as well.
I give her options to choose from, and she chooses a pizza. I order pizza, then some more dishes, and then lean back, while she looks around, soaking in as much as she could before she had to be locked for another year.
It’s so peaceful with her. We eat in silence. When we are done, I order dessert. Vanilla ice cream, her favorite.
Once the lunch is done, we leave. She’s just about to turn when her body smashes against someone. My fist is raised before I even know what I’m doing. I punch the guy.
Vani gasps, and I turn to her.
“Sit.” I snap.
She jumps, but quickly gets into the car. I punch the guy again before letting him fall on the ground. I get in the driver’s seat, still fuming. I can hear Vani’s ragged breathing from beside me.
She has seen my father’s anger to know what this is.
“I don’t like anyone touching you. You are mute, not blind, so see where you are walking. Understood?”
She nods, shaking uncontrollably.
I start the car, not saying another word. Fuck! I shouldn’t have lost it like this. I hear her crying then, but I don’t acknowledge. Vani has anyway learned to wipe her own tears.
I drive to the theatre then. Once we reach, I drive the car to the basement parking. Turning the engine off, I finally turn to her.
“Watch where you are walking,” I say and step out of the car.
Vani follows behind. I know it. I can hear her anklets. I wait for her to walk beside me. We step inside the mall and head to the third floor. Vani is trying to look everywhere at once. I press my hand at the small of her back as we get on the escalator.
We reach the theatre, and I show her the movies running right now.
“Which one do you want to watch?”
She points the romance. I groan. I wish she had chosen the alligator movie. But I nod and buy the recliner seats. I get her a large popcorn and coke, and she smiles her thanks.
We sit in our seats, waiting for the movie to start.
“Sorry, I shouted at you.” I say to her.
She nods.
“I don’t know how to stop someone from crying. I have never learned that.”
She offers me a sad face.
“I have a girl. She wanted to be my friend, but she’s my girlfriend now.”
Vani smiles at that. She gestures, asking her name. I wish Dad had let her learn sign language.
“Niti. But this is our secret. Don’t tell anyone.”
She nods. Just then, the movie starts, and I let her be. The movie is a nice distraction, just something I need. I don’t concentrate, I just close my eyes, letting sleep take over.
The End of the Privileged Bad Boys Sneak Peek. Stay tuned for more.
Author Payal Dedhia independently publishes books on Amazon. You can check out her collection by clicking here.
If you like to read more about twin flames, click here.
