At the top of a sun-drenched building, the director's office exuded both authority and ease. Every element— from the stately desk to the sunlit windows—was arranged with intention, balancing power and comfort.
Aarav lounged like royalty on a plush sofa, legs stretched confidently, a book in hand, a satisfied grin dancing across his lips as he relished a memory only he knew.
Nearby, Abhi reclined on a couch, his face peaceful in sleep. The gentle rhythm of his breathing belonged to a dream untouched by the world around him.
Across the room, Mr. Rawat sat behind his meticulously organized desk, his once cheerful demeanor casting warmth throughout the space. In front of him, a sharply dressed lawyer leafed through thick documents, the subtle rustle of pages the only sound in the otherwise still room.
But gradually, Mr. Rawat's smile began to falter. A shadow of thought darkened his features. His cheerfulness slipped.
Then—a knock.
A shared pause filled the room as both Mr. Rawat and the lawyer turned toward the door.
"Come in," Mr. Rawat said, voice calm, steady.
The door creaked open.
Abhi didn't stir. Still asleep. But everyone else looked up.
Two men stepped inside first—broad-shouldered, sharp-featured, each carrying a silent authority. One held the door with precision. The other kept his hands respectfully behind his back.
Then, Arun entered.
His presence was magnetic—regal in posture, effortless in grace, dangerous in poise. Each step echoed control, each glance a quiet challenge.
He halted in the middle of the room, gaze steady, back straight. The atmosphere shifted.
A flicker of relief crossed Mr. Rawat's face. The hollowness in his eyes softened.
He stood briskly, yet with deliberate composure. "Arun... come, sit."
Then, to the lawyer: "Excuse us for a few moments."
The lawyer understood. He packed up without question, bowing out with a respectful nod and a quiet click as the door shut behind him.
Arun walked forward with purposeful grace. He stopped just short of Mr. Rawat, his voice calm but direct.
"I'm here to talk about the land papers, Uncle." He paused. "Papa wants that land."
A flicker crossed Mr. Rawat's face—uncertainty, Disbeliev, a softness, brief but unmistakable.
Before he could answer, another voice sliced through the silence.
"Your voice doesn't sound like a request."
Aarav. No longer relaxed, he leaned forward on the couch, his eyes cold with quiet intensity.
Arun turned slowly. Their eyes locked.
The tension spiked—silent, electric, undeniable.
On the couch beside Aarav, Abhi stirred. He blinked slowly, disoriented. A soft sigh escaped his lips, edged with sleep-born irritation.
He sat up, posture controlled, spine straight, arms crossed. A single beam of dim light caught the side of his face—sharp angles, unreadable coolness.
He looked at Arun. And smiled.
For a second, Arun froze. Like something clenched within him.
Then, breaking eye contact, he turned back to Mr. Rawat, face composed again.
"If he wants it..." Mr. Rawat murmured at last, sliding the file across the table, "...you can have it."
Aarav and Abhi exchanged sharp glances, confusion and suspicion flickering between them.
The silence grew heavy.
Arun reached for the file.
"Nah." Abhi's voice, soft but resolute, cut the moment clean.
Arun paused.
Abhi stood and stepped forward. Calm. Unhurried. His steps were measured, his presence sharp and exacting.
He looked Arun dead in the eye. "Everything in this world has its price, young master."
His tone was gentle—but laced with challenge.
Arun blinked, unhinged. "How much?"
Abhi didn't hesitate. His grin was smooth, rehearsed, confident. "Money means nothing to me... what I want is... you."
Something shifted in Arun's face—an unease, brief but real.
Abhi leaned in, voice coaxing. "You're the genius, aren't you? Then prove it. Help me with my exams next week."
Arun's jaw tightened. His calm cracked—just a bit.
Mr. Rawat watched anxiously, his indecision bleeding into his expression.
But Aarav gently placed a hand on Mr. Rawat's arm. No words. Just a steady nod.
The room waited.
Arun's voice was low, guarded. "I'm not that free for games."
He glanced toward Mr. Rawat, looking for rescue.
But Abhi wasn't finished. He stepped in again—measured, razor-sharp. Just one more step and they would might touch each other.
"Then I'll ask Ayan instead."
That name.
It hit.
Arun's eyes narrowed dangerously. "He's not part of this. Let him stay out of it."
Abhi's smile didn't falter. "Then help me. Just two weeks. That's all. Then you get what you want."
Another pause.
Then a sigh. "Okay," Arun said. "But remember—I hate people who break promises."
His eyes flicked to Mr. Rawat, who stood still, as if unsure whether to feel relieved or trapped.
Arun turned away first, graceful as ever. But there was stiffness in his steps.
At the same moment, Abhi turned his head toward Aarav, and winked playfully.
Aarav, observing this with quiet approval, returned the adoring smile. His eyes glistened with admiration, silently praising Abhi's audacity.
...
Arun walked out.
The men who had accompanied Arun quietly followed his lead.
They reached the lift, and Arun stopped momentarily, glancing back at his companions. "Make sure Papa doesn't find out about this... I don't want any more trouble."
His men nodded hesitantly, their faces clouded with uncertainty and a silent barrage of questions.
As the lift doors opened, they all stepped inside, the doors sliding shut behind them with a soft hum.
[Singh's Mansion]
The dining room, filled with opulence and the hum of efficient servants, felt strangely empty.
Ayan sat at the center, his sad expression standing in stark contrast to the extravagant feast before him. The atmosphere was heavy, as though the room itself was waiting for something to bring it to life.
Footsteps...
All eyes turned , as Arun descended the staircase, his wet hair clinging to his forehead, glistening under the dim lights. Droplets trailed down his temple, disappearing into the collar of his freshly changed attire.
His steps seemed burdened, weighed down by an unseen weight.
Across the table, Ayan turned toward him, his keen ears having sensed Arun's approach before anyone else. "Brother, come. We were waiting for you."
Arun's smile was faint, fleeting. He silently took a seat next to Ayan.
The servants, swift and precise, began serving him, but Arun's gaze remained distant, lost in thought.
Just as Arun and Ayan prepared to begin their meal, the sound of approaching footsteps drew their attention again.
Mr. Singh and Mr. Raj entered the room.
Mr. Singh walked with quiet confidence, his air of authority weighing heavily on the room.
Behind him, Mr. Raj followed, all obsequious, blending into the shadows.
Arun paused, his gaze locking onto them, his eyes still as stone.
Ayan glanced between the two men, expression carefully neutral.
After a brief moment, Mr. Singh broke the silence, his voice cutting through the stillness like a blade. "Has the land deal been finalized?"
Arun answered in a hushed voice, his words cautious as he looked at Mr. Singh with a blank gaze. "Not yet, Papa..."
Mr. Singh paused, his eyes never leaving Arun, disappointment flashing in them before he spoke in a low, measured tone.
"Arun... Remember, you have to handle this business after me. Prepare yourself as soon as possible."
The words hung in the air, heavy with implications, before he turned and began to walk away.
Mr. Raj followed, his displeasure evident.
He caught up with Mr. Singh and tried to ease the tension, though his voice carried a note of reassurance. "Sir, he's still young. Give him time."
As their conversation faded into the background, Arun sat in silence, his face an expressionless mask—except in his eyes. They betrayed him, a silent storm brewing within.
Next to him, Ayan shifted uneasily, his troubled eyes darting to Arun.
Sensing Ayan's discomfort, Arun forced a crafty smile to his face, a practiced façade meant to ease the tension.
"Don't worry. Papa's just a little stressed. Let's eat."
Ayan hesitated but nodded, the faintest relief softening his expression.
But beneath his crafted smiles, an emotional storm brewed, ready to break free.
---
[The university]
Amidst the bustling campus, Aarav and Abhi walked side by side, their uniforms crisp and their backpacks casually slung over their shoulders.
They paused as they reached a diversion, exchanging a focused glance.
Abhi broke the silence with quiet certainty. "Brother, remember to send me a text when your classes are over... okay?"
Aarav rolled his eyes, skeptical but cautious. "Are you sure it's a good idea?"
Abhi nodded confidently, his expression light yet firm. "Brother, it's now or never."
The two exchanged a final glance before parting ways, each heading toward their respective wings, their thoughts and plans set in motion.