magical_Queen

WARNING// MATURE CONTENT// 21+ ONLY⚠️



The Cruel Mafia Boss

Name: Reyan "Rex" Malhotra

Ruthless, feared, and dangerously intelligent. Known for leaving a "red mark" on those who betray him—literally and metaphorically. Publicly, he’s the CEO of a billion-dollar empire.


 Top Undercover Agent Officer (Main Lead)

Name: Kiaan Verma

Known as “The Ghost” in the underground world. Trained to kill, but beneath his steely surface lies a heart still capable of falling… even for the wrong man.


. Mafia’s Core Partners

Name:

Ishaan Roy – Arms and logistics expert, cocky and unpredictable.

Mikhail D’Costa – Financial genius, runs the laundering front, calm and composed but deadly.

Aarav Mehra – Tech and cyber specialist, youngest and slightly unstable.

. Kiaan’s Undercover Agent Friends

Name:

Rehaan Sethi – Surveillance expert, witty, flirty, and Kiaan’s closest friend.

Dev Malik – Former sniper, strict, disciplined, protective of Kiaan like a brother.

Tara Iyer – Brilliant hacker, the only female in the group, has a sharp tongue and sharper mind.

Kiaan’s Family

Stepmother: Nandita Verma – Elegant but cold, never accepted Kiaan.

Father (Deceased): Rajeev Verma – Once a respected CBI officer, died mysteriously.

Younger Brother (Hates Kiaan): Shaurya Verma – 19, believes Kiaan is the reason for their father’s death, hates his secretive life.

Higher Officers of the CBI

Name:

Director Arvind Bansal – The head of the CBI, old-school, doesn’t trust easily.

ACP Shruti Rana – Directs operations, brave and logical. Shares a love-hate bond with Kiaan.

Joint Director Raghav Kapoor – Secretive and manipulative; seems to have a personal agenda.

CODE RED HEART

Location: HQ – 7:43 PM, Intelligence Meeting Room

The faint hum of the projector filled the dimly lit meeting room. The ceiling lights were half-dimmed, casting long shadows across the table, where five agents had taken their seats. Papers rustled. Pens clicked. The tension was coiling into something thicker, denser, more dangerous.

Kiaan stood at the front, one hand on the table, the other holding the remote. The screen behind him blinked to life—three faces appeared in grayscale, one by one. Innocent. Vulnerable. Dead.

Kiaan's voice rang clear—sharp and loaded with urgency.

"Everyone. Eyes here. What I'm about to say isn't just another case briefing. This is war."

The first image—Maya Bishop, 18.

> "This was the first victim. University freshman. Found in an alley behind her dorm. Face down. Limbs twisted… like she was dancing mid-air. No signs of alcohol. No signs of drugs. Not a single defensive wound. She didn't fight—she followed. Willingly."

Rehaan's jaw clenched. Tara scribbled furiously on her notepad.

Click—second image. Victor Gable, 20.

> "Second victim. Abandoned subway tunnel. Kneeling. Eyes wide open. Throat slit cleanly. No struggle. No trace. He was trained—military-trained. And he still couldn't defend himself."

Click—Isaac Drewe, 21. The screen flickered, showing the body hanging in a greenhouse, arms outstretched like a puppet.

> "Rooftop greenhouse. Suspended by wires. The message left behind—'The puppets dance until their strings are cut.' This isn't just murder. It's psychological execution. Someone is curating death."

Kiaan turned to the team, his eyes scanning each one.

> "They all had one thing in common. A seminar. Military-led youth initiative for international cooperation. Last summer. Private. Anonymous firms. Not on public record. Someone scrubbed this detail off official files. Intentionally."

Tara lifted her head, eyebrows narrowed. "Means someone with real clearance is behind this."

Rehaan leaned forward. "Or someone trained inside the system. Who knows what to hide and how to hide it."

He paused, then turned to Zid—who sat quietly, arms folded, watching. Observing.

> "Zid. I need your insights on military training programs—for both girls and boys. The killer isn't targeting based on gender. He killed two males and one female. Which means boys are the main targets. Probably between 19 and 23."

Zid raised a brow but stayed silent. Listening.

The Pattern of Death – Pieces Begin to Align