the sandarbh Rane
Mumbai—The City of Dreams!
A city that never sleeps, where every street, every road, and every wave of the sea holds thousands of untold stories. A city where a new sun rises every day, changing the fate of someone, somewhere!
Here, hundreds of dreams are born daily, while countless others shatter. Some come here to make a name for themselves, while others lose themselves in the crowd. This city is as beautiful as it is ruthless.
---
Rane Villa—painted in a pristine white hue, stood tall in all its grandeur. When the sunlight kissed its white walls, it glowed even brighter. The villa's beauty was mesmerizing, as if every corner had a new story to tell.
Surrounded by lush green trees, the villa exuded a magnificent natural charm. The shade of the trees gave it the appearance of a fortress—serene yet commanding. The garden, adorned with blooming flowers, spread a sweet fragrance in the air.
The villa's courtyard was vast and immaculate, offering a clear view into the distance. A fountain stood amidst a vibrant flower bed, its tranquil waters enhancing the peaceful aura of the place. A waterfall in the distance and the surrounding greenery added an ethereal charm to the villa's aesthetic.
The villa's design was both grand and comforting. The intricate carvings on the walls and the elegantly designed ceiling added to its allure. Every brick, every tree, and every garden infused an unmatched elegance into this majestic home!
---
It was election time.
The clock struck eight in the morning, but Mumbai had been in turmoil since the night before. The entire city was engulfed in flames of rage and riots. Cars were being set on fire, and every intersection was flooded with thousands of furious protestors.
The reason?
Someone had orchestrated an attack on Sandarbha Rane the previous night!
The news had spread like wildfire. Sandarbha Rane's supporters were in an uncontrollable frenzy, taking to the streets with unrelenting anger. They were burning effigies of opposition leaders, chanting slogans, and demanding justice.
Mumbai, the city of dreams, was now burning in the fire of politics!
While the entire city—or rather, the whole of Maharashtra—was drowning in rage and revenge, Sandarbha Rane remained unfazed, sitting in his luxurious room.
Sipping on his black coffee, he watched the live news broadcast, which flashed images of burning effigies, riots, and violent protests.
But Sandarbha Rane was unmoved. A devilish smile played on his lips!
---
Sandarbha Rane—a name that had become synonymous with power!
At 35 years old, standing 6 feet tall, with sharp hawk-like eyes and a demeanor of sheer authority, he looked like a hero. But in reality, he was the villain!
Sitting shirtless on his plush sofa, his sculpted physique was a testament to his dominance—not just in politics, but in eliminating his enemies his own way.
Sandarbha Rane—his very presence was enough to instill fear!
His every gesture, every move, and even the way he spoke carried an aura that made him not just a man, but a ruler!
But this ruler didn't just play politics—he played with people's fates, with lives, and even with God himself!
Watching the chaos unfold on TV, he took another sip of his coffee and smirked, his voice dripping with menace—
"Deva Deva! May God bless everyone… but let Him start with me!"
As he uttered these words, his smirk deepened into something even more sinister.
He was a messiah and a devil—a man who played by his own rules and one who always won!
While the city erupted in rage over his name, Sandarbha Rane sat in his luxurious haven, pulling the strings of Mumbai like a master puppeteer!
He knew power would never leave his hands… because he considered it his birthright!
---
Suddenly…
BANG!
The door burst open, and Patil rushed in, breathless.
Sandarbha's dark eyes flashed with fury—he despised being interrupted without permission! His deadly gaze fell on Patil, sending shivers down his spine.
Patil, still gasping, blurted out—
"Bhau… Bhau! He… he has withdrawn his nomination!"
The moment those words escaped Patil's lips, Sandarbha's fierce expression softened. A slow, ominous smirk crept across his face.
Patil continued, urgency in his tone—"Bhau! You are Maharashtra's Chief Minister once again! Your oath ceremony is tomorrow!"
But Sandarbha didn't react.
He just smirked… that dangerous, devilish smirk!
And then—he burst into laughter!
But this wasn't ordinary laughter.
It was mad, maniacal, and terrifying—a sound so chilling that it echoed through the entire room!
Patil's throat went dry. His eyes filled with fear.
"B…Bhau?" he stammered.
But Sandarbha's laughter didn't stop.
Taking a deep breath, he spoke in his ominous tone—
"I told you… Power was mine. Power is mine. And power will always be mine! Now watch… the real game has just begun!"
With that, he took another sip of his black coffee, as if everything was falling exactly as he had planned!
---
Meanwhile…
Downstairs, his mother was performing a puja.
After completing the prayers, she turned to her husband and asked in a calm yet firm voice—
"Where is Sandarbha?"
His father was about to respond when—
THUD. THUD. THUD.
Heavy footsteps echoed on the stairs.
And then, a deep, powerful voice filled the hall—
"Mi ithe aahe!"
("I am here!")
His presence alone commanded silence.
Everyone turned toward the staircase.
There, descending slowly, was Sandarbha Rane.
One hand casually tucked into his pocket, his footsteps deliberate, exuding supreme confidence. His gait held raw power—each step, a testament to his dominance!
His towering physique, his piercing eyes, and that ever-present devilish smirk—Sandarbha Rane wasn't just a man.
He was an empire.
The pride in his mother's eyes was unmistakable. A soft but deep smile graced her lips as she looked at her son—the man who had transcended from a name to a phenomenon!
She stepped forward, performed an aarti, and marked his forehead with tilak before declaring—
"Today calls for a celebration! My son has become the CM once again!"
His father, Vinoba Ji, felt the same pride. He, too, had once ruled Maharashtra. But now, the entire state bowed before his son!
His parents' faces glowed with happiness.
But Sandarbha's expression remained blank.
His deep voice sliced through the moment—
"Where is Siddharth?"
His mother and father exchanged nervous glances. A sudden worry clouded their faces. The tension in the room thickened as their silence fueled Sandarbha's growing rage!
His eyes flared red with fury as he roared—
"WHERE. IS. SIDDHARTH?"
His mother finally whispered, "Beta… he went to college."
At those words, Sandarbha's fury erupted like a volcano. His jaw clenched, eyes burning with ruthless intensity.
"When I said he wouldn't step out today—WHO gave him permission?"
Taking a sharp breath, he ordered—
"Patil… get the car!"
Without another word, he stormed out of the villa, his strides fierce and determined.
His convoy sped out, leaving behind an eerie silence.
And at that moment… the atmosphere around Rane Villa felt different.
It felt ominous.
TO BE CONTINUED…