Mistake (or) Fate?!

Mumbai… Bandra West…

In the heart of Bandra West, where the wealthiest and most powerful families of the movie industry resided, there stood an empire like no other—the Rajput family mansion.

The Rajputs were not the richest family in Mumbai in terms of sheer financial wealth, but in influence, no one could rival them. They controlled 80% of India's film industry—from film production to theatrical releases, everything operated under their extensive network. 

Directors, actors, musicians, and influencers all had contracts that bound them to the Rajput empire. Even politicians had to think twice before passing any law that could disrupt the Rajput family's business.

At the center of this vast power stood their mansion—a 33-acre estate in one of the most expensive locations. The property wasn't just an extravagant home; it was a fortress. High-tech surveillance, armed guards, and underground bunkers ensured that no one could reach the Rajput family without permission.

After dropping Lilly off at the textile factory, Das drove toward the Rajput mansion. His old Ambassador car, a rusted relic from the past, looked completely out of place against the fleet of luxury vehicles parked outside the mansion's massive iron gates.

As he pulled up, the guards standing at the entrance immediately took notice. They exchanged glances before one of them, a burly man with a rifle slung across his chest, stepped forward and knocked on Das's window.

"This is private property," the guard stated coldly. "Leave."

Das didn't respond. Instead, he stretched out his hand and showed the business card that the old patriarch of the Rajput family had personally given him.

The guard's eyes widened slightly before his demeanor changed. He turned to another guard and muttered, "Call Chief Security Officer Lola."

Within minutes, a man in a neatly pressed suit with a walkie-talkie in hand approached. His piercing eyes scanned Das, then the card, flipping it between his fingers multiple times.

"What's your purpose of visit?" the chief security officer, Lola, asked, his voice firm but professional.

"I'm here for a job," Das replied, his tone direct.

Lola raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. He gestured toward the main driveway.

"You can go inside. Drive directly toward the third gate. A secretary will be there to assist you."

Das nodded slightly and drove inside, his car moving slowly over the well-maintained roads leading into the estate.

As soon as he left, a few of the guards started murmuring.

"Many weird people are coming to the mansion today, Chief," one of the guards muttered. "The secretary said twelve people are competing for the personal guard position for Princess Maya. But with this guy, the count is thirteen."

"Yes, Chief," another guard agreed. "We saw a monk, a burly man, a lady in ancient clothing, a sniper girl, and now this guy in an old Ambassador car. These people are really weird and mysterious."

Lola glanced toward the driveway and smirked. "Don't you know what kind of situation the princess is facing? All powerful people look mysterious and weird. You must never judge them by their appearance."

"But Chief, this guy—he looks too normal."

Lola's gaze turned sharp. "Normal? Then why did the old patriarch recommend him personally? If he's that normal, let's hope someone stronger beats him in the competition."

After parking his car, Das entered the third gate and met the secretary inside.

The lady secretary, assuming he was there for the personal guard selection, took down his details. But when Das nonchalantly revealed he had spent half of his life in the criminal zone, her pen froze in mid-air.

"You… were in the criminal zone?" she asked, clearly taken aback.

Das simply nodded.

Swallowing her surprise, the secretary quickly finished noting his details and escorted him to a waiting room.

Meanwhile, inside the main chamber, two women and a mysterious young man sat discussing the selection process.

Princess Maya sat in the center of the room, her body confined to a specialized wheelchair. Several belts supported her frame, and her head was tilted slightly to one side—unable to move freely.

Despite her delicate state, her eyes were filled with life. She was aware of everything happening around her, but she could not speak or react.

Beside her, her sister, Nivedita Rajput, was reading the list of selected candidates.

"We were supposed to have only twelve candidates for this job. Where did this thirteenth person come from?" she asked the secretary with a frown.

The secretary hesitated before responding. "My lady, he came directly with the recommendation of the old patriarch."

A sharp snatch came from her side.

A young man in long, flowing yellow robes—styled like a wizard—snatched the document from Nivedita's hands. He read through it, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Haha… after all the buffoons, now a criminal has come to protect the princess?" the man sneered.

His name was Yellow Tiger, and he was no ordinary fighter. He is one of the candidates who came to protect the princess.

"Listen, my lady," Yellow Tiger continued with a smug smile, "all these thirteen people are nothing but fake tigers. I am the real tiger. I trained under White Tiger Master Chao, the elder of the Bai sect. Only I can protect your sister, Princess Maya."

Nivedita sighed but responded in a calm tone. "I believe in you, Yellow Tiger. But all these candidates were personally requested by my father. Every single one of them will enter this chamber, and you will defeat them one by one to prove your worth. Only then can I demand my father to appoint you as my sister's protector."

Yellow Tiger smirked. "I'll make it quick."

As the conversation unfolded, Princess Maya sat silently, unable to respond.

Once, she had been a powerful, independent woman, a Rajput princess respected and feared. But after a recent tragedy, she was left in this crippled state. She could think, but she could not move, could not speak.

Yet, even in her vulnerable condition, her enemies hadn't backed down. A powerful family from Delhi was determined to kill her, no matter what.

That was why the Rajput family was trying to hire a capable personal guard. Someone who could stand against assassins, mysterious sect disciples, and enemies from the shadows.

Vikram Das, who is looking for a regular job, unknowingly became a candidate for the position of personal guard. 

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Tq for power-stones.