The dining hall of the Malhotra mansion looked more like a royal court than a family space. Sunlight poured in through the tall glass windows, glinting against the crystal chandelier above. A long polished table stretched across the room, laid with silver cutlery, steaming dishes, and fresh fruit. Servants stood silently at the corners, waiting for orders.
At the head of the table sat Rajendra Malhotra, upright, regal, his gaze sharp even as he sipped his black coffee. The morning newspaper lay neatly folded beside him, though his attention was elsewhere. He cut into his toast with precise movements, his presence alone commanding silence.
The sound of hurried footsteps echoed from the marble staircase. Moments later, Aarav Malhotra appeared—hair still messy despite a quick attempt to tame it, shirt half-tucked, his boyish charm failing to hide the guilt in his eyes. He slid into a chair beside his father, forcing a sheepish smile.
"Sorry, Dad," Aarav began, grabbing a piece of toast quickly as though speed would soften the scolding. "I… overslept."
Rajendra's fork clinked softly against the plate as he set it down. His cold eyes fixed on his son. "Life is not a joke, Aarav. Nor is it meant to be wasted in sleep and childish fun. You carry the Malhotra name, and that name is not built on excuses."
Aarav tried to laugh it off. "Dad, come on. It's not like the world will stop because I woke up a little late."
Rajendra leaned back in his chair, his voice low but firm. "Don't test me, son. I have eyes and ears everywhere. Every step you take, every late-night adventure—you think I don't know? You're mistaken."
Aarav froze, toast in hand. His lips parted, but no words came out.
Rajendra continued, his tone sharp. "Tell me, Aarav. What's your plan? To work in my company as an intern and learn discipline? Or would you prefer to walk straight into the CEO's chair, unprepared, reckless, unworthy?"
Aarav put the toast down slowly. "Dad, I'm not interested in joining business right now. I'm just twenty-two. I want to live my life a little before I start carrying the weight of—"
"You think this is about what you want?" Rajendra cut him off, his palm slamming softly but firmly against the table. "I didn't ask for your opinion. Your wants mean nothing against the responsibility you carry."
His gaze hardened. "If your grandfather were here, you would be a disciplined man already. He would never have tolerated this careless behavior. He gave his life protecting this family's honor. And you—" Rajendra's voice grew colder—"you can't even wake up on time."
Aarav's jaw tightened, hurt flashing in his eyes, but he said nothing.
Rajendra stood, adjusting his blazer as though dismissing the argument entirely. "You will do what I say. Better be ready to work in my company as an intern. When I tell you to start, you start. No excuses."
He turned toward Raghu, who had been silently standing near the doorway. "Raghu," Rajendra commanded, "I entrusted you with my son. Don't let him spoil himself further. Support him. Control him. Guide him. That is your duty."
Raghu bowed his head respectfully. "Yes, sir."
Finally, Rajendra looked back at Aarav. His voice was final, brooking no debate. "From today, you will take at least one guard with you everywhere you go. That's non-negotiable."
Aarav's eyes widened. "Dad! That's insane. I don't need a babysitter following me around like I'm some criminal under house arrest!"
Rajendra's reply was like a blade: "You are the heir of this family. And heirs don't get choices—they get responsibilities. And you will obey."
The silence that followed was suffocating. Rajendra's polished shoes clicked against the marble floor as he left the hall, his aura still heavy in the air.
Aarav slumped back in his chair, frustration bubbling in his chest. He buried his face in his hands and groaned. "Perfect. Just perfect. Now I'll have a tail everywhere I go."
Raghu crossed his arms, trying hard not to smirk. "Well… it's not like you didn't bring this on yourself."
Aarav shot him a glare. "Don't you dare enjoy this, Raghu."
But despite his anger, Aarav's boyish grin returned a second later. Mischief still danced in his eyes. "Fine. If I'm going to have a guard around me… maybe I'll make his life hell. What do you think?"
Raghu shook his head, muttering under his breath, "You really will be the end of me."
Aarav leaned back, tossing a grape into his mouth with a smirk, already plotting how to escape his father's chains.