The city buzzed with life, but for Rohit Sharma, heir to the mighty Sharma Industries and an undercover agent heading a special department, the world was simply a game of power and control. His life was defined by ruthlessness, secrecy, and the pursuit of information. Recently, however, his focus had shifted toward a target he couldn’t ignore—the Kohli family.
The Kohli family was whispered about in shadowed circles, with rumors of corruption, illegal businesses, and connections stretching beyond what anyone could prove. Rohit’s assignment was to get close to their secrets, expose their crimes, and dismantle their empire. And his way in? Virat Kohli.
Virat Kohli was nothing like the son of a powerful, potentially dangerous family might seem. An engineering student, joyful, innocent, and academically brilliant, Virat was the college topper who seemed far removed from the world of crime his family supposedly ran. Still, Rohit couldn’t afford to take any chances. His superiors had insisted that Virat had to know something—anyone in that family must.
And if he didn’t know yet, Rohit would make him talk.
That evening, Rohit strolled across the campus grounds, blending in seamlessly with the crowd. He had arranged for a chance meeting—a perfect setup to introduce himself to Virat. Timing was everything.
Just ahead, he spotted Virat. The young man’s face was lit up with a bright smile, animatedly talking to his friends, his eyes sparkling with a warmth and openness that almost caught Rohit off guard. This was no hardened criminal.
Virat, engrossed in his conversation, didn’t notice Rohit watching him. Rohit, in his sharply tailored suit, stood out on the college campus, his cold, calculating gaze fixed on Virat. There was a flicker of something in Rohit’s eyes—curiosity, perhaps, or even something softer. But he quickly pushed it away. Emotions were weakness, and his mission was clear.
It was then that Virat looked up, catching Rohit’s gaze.
“Oh!” Virat said, taken aback by the sudden eye contact. “Can I help you?” he asked, smiling warmly, unaware of the man’s intentions.
“Yes,” Rohit said smoothly, stepping forward. “I’m Rohit. I think we have some mutual friends. You must be Virat.”
Virat blinked in surprise. “Oh, uh… nice to meet you, Rohit.” He extended a hand, his handshake firm but friendly. “What brings you to campus?”
Rohit gave a practiced smile, the kind that he knew would come off as charming. “I was just passing by. A friend told me about a brilliant engineering student here—top of the college, if I’m not mistaken. And, well… I had to see what all the fuss was about.”
Virat’s cheeks flushed a little. “Oh, that’s just… I just like studying, I guess. But thanks.” He looked down, modest, with a shy smile.
This innocence was almost too easy. Rohit watched him carefully, noticing the little details—the way Virat avoided eye contact when complimented, the gentle way he spoke. He seemed genuine. Too genuine. But that, Rohit thought, might just be the perfect cover.
“Mind if I walk with you?” Rohit asked, putting on his most approachable smile.
“Sure,” Virat said, shrugging. “I’m just heading to the library.”
They fell into step together, Rohit maintaining a carefully measured distance, slipping seamlessly into conversation as though they were old friends. He asked about Virat’s classes, his projects, and subtly tried to probe about his family.
But every answer left him with more questions.
Virat seemed genuinely oblivious to any hint of criminal activities within his family. He talked about his mother’s cooking, his father’s travel stories, and his little sister’s school antics with a casual, unguarded charm. No calculated lies. No hidden messages. Just a young man who seemed to love his family without reservation.
Rohit found himself intrigued in a way he hadn’t expected. He knew Virat was innocent—at least in his mannerisms. But could he really be that naive?
As they neared the library, Rohit paused, realizing he’d been caught off guard by Virat’s sincerity. This was supposed to be an easy target. He was here to manipulate, to charm, to deceive—anything to get close to Virat’s family. But something in Virat’s smile, the pure kindness in his eyes, was unsettling.
“Well, this is it,” Virat said, motioning to the library door. “You’re welcome to join me, though. I was planning on staying late to study.”
Rohit hesitated, then nodded. “Actually… I think I will.”
Inside the library, Rohit watched as Virat moved effortlessly among the shelves, grabbing a few textbooks and flipping through them with a focused expression. He looked so at ease, so unaware of the storm brewing around him, of the man sitting across from him who was plotting his downfall.
But as he studied Virat’s expressions, Rohit couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t just an act. Virat’s innocence wasn’t a cover—it was real. He was genuinely just a college student, immersed in his books, far removed from any dark secrets.
And that realization hit Rohit harder than he’d expected. He hadn’t planned on second-guessing his mission. And yet, for the first time, he found himself questioning his own motives.
As the night wore on, they exchanged notes, laughed over jokes, and somehow, Rohit found himself slipping into the comfort of the moment. Virat’s laughter echoed in his ears, warm and sincere, and for a fleeting second, he allowed himself to imagine that this was something real.
But he quickly shoved the thought aside. This was a mission. Nothing more.
After a while, Virat stretched, yawning as he glanced at his watch. “It’s getting late. I should head home.”
Rohit nodded, standing with him. “Yeah. It was… nice talking to you, Virat.”
Virat’s smile widened. “Same here, Rohit. See you around?”
Rohit felt a pang in his chest but forced himself to respond smoothly. “Definitely.”
As Virat walked away, his footsteps echoing softly, Rohit stood alone, watching his retreating figure. In his line of work, attachments were dangerous. But as he looked at the empty spot where Virat had just stood, Rohit realized he’d be back tomorrow.
The game had only just begun.
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Please ignore my mistakes
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