Prescribed to Mafia

Introduction

RUDRA RATHORE (ML) Age: 29 Title: Mafia King | CEO Rathore Group Nature: Cold. Calculating. No sleep, no friends, no mercy for enemies. But has a code: Never touch women, kids, or doctors. Hobby: Shooting. Chess. Watching CCTV feeds at 3AM. Likes: Black coffee, silence, her Maggie at 2AM, stray dogs he pretends not to feed Dislikes: Hospitals, pity, people touching him, weakness, her leaving

Two most important part of ML's life his soul

Rudra’s loyal inner circle elevates the high-stakes mafia dynamics, balancing his cold exterior with deep-seated familial loyalty.

Kabir Age: 29 (Adopted by Rudra at age 19) ​Title: Rudra's Right Hand / Enforcer ​Nature: A force of pure kinetic energy. Reckless, fiercely protective, and intensely loyal. He lives for the adrenaline of the battlefield and acts as a terrifying older brother figure. ​Hobby: Sparring, handling front-line firefights, testing Aarohi's boundaries by sneaking spicy street food past security. ​Likes: Action, loyalty, fast cars, protecting the inner circle. ​Dislikes: Threats to Rudra, slow days, anyone messing with the household. ​Dream: To be the unyielding sword that protects Rudra's empire.

Agastya Age: 29 (Adopted by Rudra at age 19) ​Title: Rudra's Left Hand / Strategist ​Nature: The tactical genius, hacker, and strategist. Calm, analytical, and seemingly emotionless, reading situations before they unfold. ​Hobby: Tracking encrypted comms, wiping databases, managing syndicate finances, and quietly observing human behavior. ​Likes: Absolute precision, encrypted code, order, quiet efficiency. ​Dislikes: Messy variables, sloppy security, unnecessary chaos. ​Dream: To be the unshakeable shield and architect behind Rudra's survival

Together, Kabir and Agastya form the twin pillars holding up Rudra's world: Kabir is the sword, Agastya is the shield, and Rudra is the beating heart they refuse to let stop.

AAROHI SHARMA (FL) Age: 22 Title: 3rd Year MBBS Student | Maid Nature: Sweet. Stubborn. Too kind for her own good. Sees good in everyone. Braver than she looks. Hobby: Talking to plants. Feeding strays. Dancing in kitchen. Reading medical journals. Likes: Rain, old songs, saving people, checking his BP when he’s not looking Dislikes: Injustice, liars, guns, being called weak, leaving people behind Dream:- Surgeon specialist

ROHAN SHARMA Age: 14 Title: High School Student / Aarohi's Younger Brother Nature: Bright-eyed, fiercely protective of his older sister, and burdened by a mature sense of responsibility far beyond his years. Intelligent, observant, and deeply grateful. Hobby: Science experiments, physics textbooks, sketching blueprints, and making sure Aarohi eats a proper meal. Likes: Physics, learning how things work, looking out for his sister. Dislikes: Feeling like a financial burden, hospital food, anyone who tries to talk down to Aarohi. Dream: To follow in his sister's academic footsteps to pursue engineering or research and eventually take care of her. Give a big house and servants to big sister to care of her . Not let her ever do night shifts. (Mild asthma patient)

PRIYA (Compassionate Realist) Age: 22 Title: 3rd Year MBBS Student / Best Friend of FL Nature: Warm, deeply empathetic, but grounded enough to play the role of the anchor when Aarohi tries to carry the world on her shoulders. Nurturing and fiercely loyal. Hobby: Speed-reading textbooks, drinking strong coffee, studying neurology trivia, and dragging Aarohi out for mandatory rest. Likes: Quiet study sessions, neurology, seeing her friends take care of themselves. Dislikes: Arrogant senior residents, skipped meals, Aarohi's refusal to ask for help. Dream: Neurology specialist.

MEERA SEN (Mac) (Badass Overreactor) Age: 22 Title: 3rd Year MBBS Student / Best Friend Nature: Dashing, intimidatingly sharp, and radiating chaotic, take-no-prisoners energy. Fiercely protective, competitive, and overly dramatic. Hobby: Riding motorcycles, turning minor inconveniences into full-scale theatrical declarations of war, winning arguments. Likes: Leather jackets under her white coat, high-stakes trauma cases, adrenaline spikes. Dislikes: Injustice, slow Wi-Fi, people who underestimate women in medicine, anyone making Aarohi cry. Dream: Cardiologist specialist.

Adrian Zeya (Tom Boy) Age: 22 Title: 3rd Year MBBS Student / Best Friend Nature: Effortlessly rugged, blunt, practical, unfazed by blood or gore, and utterly allergic to drama. Solves problems with sheer physical or logical efficiency. Hobby: Fixing things with her hands, collecting mechanical watches, listening to heavy metal, watching surgery documentaries in absolute silence. Likes: Black coffee, street basketball, straightforward people, practical solutions. Dislikes: Gossip, uncomfortable formal clothes, unnecessary emotional panic, being told to act more ladylike. Dream: Orthopedic surgeon.

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The fluorescent lights of the government hospital emergency ward flickered with a low, agonizing hum, matching the steady, exhausting rhythm of Aarohi Sharma’s life.

It was 3:14 AM. Most of the city was wrapped in a deep, oblivious slumber, but the casualty ward was a theater of bruised knuckles, hacking coughs, and the sharp scent of antiseptic and stale sweat.

Aarohi, twenty-two and deep into her third year of MBBS.

Her white coat was stained with a mixture of dried saline and coffee spilled six hours ago. Despite the dark circles bruised beneath her eyes, her hands were preternaturally steady

Beneath her, a seven-year-old street vendor gripped the edge of the mattress so hard his knuckles turned white.

He had taken a nasty tumble against a metal crate, slicing a jagged line across his forearm.

As the boy’s older brother rushed him out into the humid night

Her phone buzzed in her pocket

EMI Due for Brother's Tuition.

Below that, a calendar notification reminded her that rent for their tiny two-room flat was due in three days.

Behind every shift, behind every sleepless night spent memorizing thick pharmacology textbooks, was a quiet, crushing reality: she was entirely alone in the world.

Since the accident that took their parents three years ago, the crumbling family apartment had rested entirely on her shoulders, along with something much heavier—her fourteen-year-old brother, Rohan.

A personal mantra she whispered like a prayer every single night.

The courtyard was her sanctuary—a patch of overgrown grass and stubborn potted marigolds squeezed between concrete utility blocks

Most people saw a wasteland of hospital waste bins and stray cats. Aarohi saw a community.

Mobile buzz

Somewhere out in the sprawling, neon-lit labyrinth of the city, miles away from the quiet hum of the hospital, another kind of dark was reaching its absolute peak.

And neither of them knew that their lines were about to cross, permanently altering the vital signs of their entire worlds.

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Continue

Miles away from the sterile scent of antiseptic and crying children, the air in the warehouse district tasted of iron, rain, and cheap industrial oil.

The abandoned freight depot sat like a rusted skeleton against the sprawling backdrop of the city’s skyline.

Inside, the only illumination came from a single flickering overhead bulb hanging by a frayed wire, casting long, fractured shadows across concrete floors stained with decades of grease and things far worse.

Rudra Rathore stood in the center of the gloom.

At twenty-nine, he was a ghost that the underworld whispered about with a mixture of reverence and blind terror.

By day, he was a legitimate titan of real estate and stock acquisitions, a billionaire whose signature could spike or tank market shares with a single stroke of a pen.

By night, he was the architect of an empire built on blood, absolute loyalty, and ruthless execution.

Kneeling before him, bound tightly to a wooden chair with thick plastic zip-ties, was a man sweating profusely despite the midnight chill

A man named Verma—a high-level human trafficker who had crossed a line even Rudra’s syndicate refused to tread.

Rudra didn't blink. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't even tilt his head.

The metal made a soft click as he checked the slide.

Thwack

The suppressed shot was swallowed instantly by the vast, hollow acoustics of the warehouse.

He felt nothing. No rush of adrenaline, no spike in his heart rate

Just the dull, chronic thrum of exhaustion that had haunted him for a decade

He hadn't slept more than three uninterrupted hours a night since he was nineteen.

His mind was a hyper-vigilant fortress, locked tight against ghosts from his past.

As the driver pulled away into the deserted streets

He lived by a strict, unbreakable code: No civilians. No witnesses. Total control.

In his world, variables got you killed. Weakness got you buried.

He had no room for error, no room for distractions, and certainly no room for ordinary people.

Yet, as the car sped toward his sprawling, heavily guarded mansion in the hills, a strange, phantom chill brushed against the back of his neck—a silent, invisible warning that his perfectly calculated universe was about to collide with an immovable force.

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