The Tycoon's Odyssey

Jason stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of his private suite, his silhouette outlined against the sprawling city below.

The quiet hum of New Dilli's night echoed faintly, but within the suit, there was only the soft sound of wine swirling in his glass. He raised it to his lips, savoring the taste as his cold eyes surveyed the world beneath him.

From this height, everything looked small and insignificant—a reminder of the influence of power.

A sense of power surged through him. The world, from this vantage, seemed like his playground.

"From today," he murmured to himself, voice dripping with satisfaction, "I am going to be the sole owner of the Mahajan family."

But his thoughts wandered as they often did.

His grip on the glass tightened slightly as the memories of his past resurfaced. As a child, Jason had always been observant and more perceptive than those around him gave him credit for. Despite his parents' constant efforts, despite the attention and care they had given him, something had always felt… off.

They didn't love him truly. He could already guess that.

He had sensed it in their every gesture, in every glance they shared when they thought he wasn't looking. It wasn't hatred, no, but there was a barrier between them. He could sense it. The unspoken disconnect had haunted him, leaving him alienated despite their best attempts.

That's when he appeared—the man who had been watching from the shadows, waiting patiently, weaving his intricate web of manipulation over the years.

Mithal Mahajan, his father's brother. Or rather, as Jason had come to know, his true father.

The revelation had been both a shock and a vindication. The pieces fell into place so perfectly, so methodically. Jason had been born mere days before the original heir to the Mahajan fortune—a fact that Mithal had used as a trump card in his long-standing rivalry with his brother. And when the moment had come, Mithal had acted without hesitation.

The hospital fire created the perfect chaos for the switch. Jason, the rightful heir to Mithal, was placed in the care of his uncle and aunt, while the true Mahajan heir vanished without a trace.

What became of him? Jason didn't know. His father had never shared that part of the story. Frankly, Jason didn't care. What mattered now was that he stood at the precipice of his destiny, and he knew there was nothing that could stand in his way.

"Even if that poor fool were to resurface now," Jason muttered under his breath, taking another sip of wine, "It wouldn't matter. The parents who would have claimed him will be gone soon."

The dark thought brought a cruel smile to his lips, but his mind quickly sharpened.

As satisfying as the prospect of ruling the Mahajan empire was, his position remained vulnerable. Mithal had other children, and the old man wasn't one to be trusted completely.

Jason knew that better than anyone. His father had schemes within schemes, and it was only a matter of time before he pulled another trick from his sleeve.

"I can't allow that," Jason whispered to himself. The wine glass hovered near his lips, but he was no longer focused on the taste. His thoughts had already moved ahead, calculating, planning.

Mithal was a threat. His younger children, though naive, could still be used against him. Jason knew that if he didn't act swiftly, his grip on the Mahajan family's fortune would remain precarious. His father's ambitions had no limits, and Jason had no illusions about the danger he still posed.

Then, a twisted, malicious smile crept across Jason's face as a chilling idea settled in his mind.

"Hehe…" A low chuckle escaped his throat, growing darker with each breath. "It seems that for the future of our family, I'll need to make a sacrifice."

Jason placed the glass on the nearby table, his eyes gleaming with sinister intent as he spoke to his reflection in the window. "After all, we can't have anyone know the truth, can we, Father?"

The decision had been made. Mithal, the man who had given him everything, would now pay the ultimate price—ensuring Jason stood at the top alone.

Jason was ready to cut down anyone—even his father—to claim what he believed was rightfully his.

Just then, his phone rang. As he glanced at the caller ID, a sly smirk crossed his face.

"Talk about the devil," he murmured, answering with a cool, calculated calmness. "Hello, Dad. What's going on?"

Mithal's voice was cold and direct on the other end. "We have a problem."

The smirk on Jason's face instantly faded as his body tensed, and his grip on the phone tightened.

"What problem?" he asked, his voice low and controlled.

"They managed to escape," Mithal replied flatly.

Jason's heart skipped a beat. He clenched his jaw, keeping his voice steady, suppressing his urge to lash out. "How did the operation fail?"

"I don't know," Mithal's answer was as infuriatingly simple as it was unacceptable.

Jason gritted his teeth, his irritation barely concealed. "You don't know? Seriously?" He pinched the bridge of his nose, struggling to maintain his composure. "Are you kidding me right now?"

"I'm telling you the truth, Jason. I don't know. None of the people we sent survived to tell the tale. After the disturbance, sending reinforcements became too risky. The army and police may already be on high alert."

Jason inhaled sharply, his mind racing to assess the situation. His plans were delicate, each piece had been positioned precisely; this complication could ruin it all.

"Any news on their location?" he asked, trying to keep his frustration in check.

"No," came the blunt response.

Jason paused, weighing his options. After a moment, he made a decision. "Then let's proceed with the alternative plan. Gather the shareholders and call for a vote. We've already secured enough support to sway them. If they've gone into hiding, we'll bring more allies to our side and make our move. But keep it quiet; we will act only if they don't reappear." Experience tales with mvl

A short silence followed before Mithal replied, "I understand."

Jason ended the call and placed his phone on the table, his mind rapidly working through the implications. If they'd escaped, they'd surely seek allies—and if word got out, his whole carefully constructed facade could start to crumble. But the plan he'd set in motion would move forward; he would make sure of that.

Turning back to the view of the city, a chilling gleam of determination filled his eyes. His voice was barely a whisper, but it echoed with cold finality. "You may have escaped once, but I'll make sure there's no escape next time."