The heavy wooden banister gleamed in the morning light as Arav Malhotra descended the grand staircase of the Malhotra mansion. His steps were unhurried, but his presence was magnetic. He wore a white banyan tucked loosely under a red jacket, the edges falling casually as if he had thrown it on without care. Black cargo pants hugged his legs and his white shoes clicked softly against the marble steps.
His messy hair, styled just enough to look charmingly careless, bounced as he walked, and his phone spun lazily between his fingers. There was an aura about him—part rebellion, part royalty—that made him look less like a businessman's heir and more like a prince who didn't care about his throne.
Downstairs, the usual morning commotion of the household paused. Maids carrying trays slowed to steal glances, and their daughters, gathered in a corner helping fold laundry, let their eyes linger longer than they should. A faint blush crept up a few faces as Arav smirked knowingly at the attention.
Raghu, leaning against the dining hall doorframe, raised a brow. "Sneaking again?" His tone carried mock-seriousness, but his arms crossed firmly across his chest.
Arav chuckled, slipping his phone into his pocket. "Sneaking? Can't you see I'm walking down the front staircase like a civilized prince of this palace?" He spread his arms theatrically as if descending a runway.
The girls giggled quietly, earning a glare from one of the older maids who shooed them away. Raghu rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged at his lips.
Before Arav could say more, a tall, muscular bodyguard stepped forward near the hall entrance. He bowed slightly, his voice deep and formal.
"Young Master Arav… I was ordered by the Boss to ensure you are kept safe. I'll be accompanying you wherever you go."
Arav froze mid-step, his smirk faltering into a scowl. He looked the man up and down, then scoffed.
"Of course. Try it as much as you want. But let's see how long you can keep up with me." His voice was sharp, his words dripping with challenge.
The guard didn't flinch. His hands were clasped neatly behind his back, his expression unreadable.
Raghu suppressed a laugh. "You're really going to make his life hell, aren't you?"
Arav tilted his head, his rose-pink lips curving into a mischievous smile. "Hell? No. I'm just going to teach him that guarding me is the same as chasing smoke in the wind. He'll get tired before I do."
The bodyguard gave the faintest nod, silently acknowledging the game about to begin.
Raghu shook his head, muttering under his breath, "You really are your father's son. Always turning everything into a battle."
Arav heard that, his eyes flashing briefly with defiance. "Correction. I'm nothing like him." He adjusted his jacket, striding past Raghu with his head held high. Yet deep inside, a flicker of doubt stirred—a truth he never wanted to admit.
As he crossed the hall, the lingering gazes of the maid's daughters followed him like shadows. He winked at one of them deliberately, making her gasp and drop the folded napkins she was holding. Raghu groaned.
"Arav… stop playing with fire."
Arav turned slightly, his grin wicked. "Fire keeps life interesting, Raghu. You should try it sometime."
And with that, the guard fell into step behind him, the invisible chains of his father's command clinking around him louder than the sound of his footsteps.