Ayan sat on the edge of his bed, the curtains drawn back to reveal a sky scattered with stars. His phone rested against his ear, the familiar voice on the other end instantly easing the lingering tension of the day.
"Senior," Ayan said softly, a smile tugging at his lips. "How's everything going? Ready for tomorrow's meeting?"
There was a pause, followed by a faint sigh. "Honestly?" Aarav's voice carried a nervous edge. "Not really. It's… a lot. Taking responsibility this soon—it feels heavier than I thought it would."
Ayan leaned back against the headboard, his gaze drifting to the moonlight pooling across the floor. "Senior," he said softly, his voice full of warmth, "I just know you're going to be amazing."
A soft chuckle came through the speaker, though Aarav's voice remained quiet. "You sound way more sure about me than I do…"
Ayan admitted, his smile deepening. "Of course I am. I know my boyfriend."
For a moment, there was only the faint hum of the call, the sound of Aarav breathing on the other end. Then, almost shyly, he said, "I… really miss you, Ayan."
The words slipped into the quiet like a confession.
Ayan's heart gave a small, unexpected leap. He chuckled softly to hide it. "It's only been a few days since I left," he teased, warmth threading through his voice. "Besides, we'll be seeing each other at college every day starting next Monday."
Aarav laughed lightly, the nervousness in his voice easing. "But that doesn't change the fact that I still miss you."
Ayan's smile lingered as he leaned back against the pillow, and they continued talking softly, sharing words and laughter until sleep finally claimed them.
---
[Next morning—Singh mansion]
The morning sun filtered through the high windows of the Singh mansion, laying long streaks of gold across the polished floor. Yet the warmth outside did nothing to soften the weight in the air.
Ayan stepped into Mr. Singh's study, his fingers curling around the doorframe before he gathered the courage to speak.
"Papa," Ayan said softly, breaking the silence. "May I go to the Rawat house?"
Mr. Singh looked up from the papers spread across his desk. His sharp eyes flickered with concern before settling into measured calm. "Now?" he asked, his voice low but edged with hesitation. "We have a meeting at four; you can meet them there."
Ayan shook his head, a soft plea in his eyes. "I will come to the meeting directly from there..."
Mr. Singh leaned back in his chair, studying the young boy. His jaw tightened, but he didn't want to deny Ayan's request.
"Then take Arun with you," he said finally, the decision sounding more like an order than a suggestion.
"Brother isn't home," Ayan replied, his tone quick, almost apologetic. "He left about half an hour ago. But… I'll be fine on my own, Papa."
Mr. Singh's brow furrowed, a shadow of doubt crossing his features. "You'll be fine," he repeated quietly, as though testing the words against his own instincts. After a long pause, he exhaled.
"Very well. But you will not go alone."
He reached for the intercom and pressed a button. "Driver," he said firmly, "prepare the car. Drop Ayan at the Rawat house and make sure he arrives safely. Don't leave until he's inside."
Turning back to Ayan, Mr. Singh's gaze softened, though the tension in his shoulders remained. "Go. But keep your phone on. And call me the moment you get there."
Ayan nodded, relief mingling with determination. "I will, Papa. Thank you."
Mr. Singh watched him leave, the quiet click of the door echoing in the room long after Ayan had gone. Then he sank back into the stacks of papers.
---
The black sedan glided down the mansion's sun-warmed driveway, its tires crunching softly against the gravel. Afternoon light shimmered on the iron gates as they swung open, revealing a stretch of quiet road.
From the shade of an overgrown corner, a second car stirred to life. Its engine purred low, hidden beneath the sound of passing birds. Keeping a careful distance, it rolled out after them, its dark windows reflecting only flashes of sunlight.
The Singh mansion soon disappeared behind winding turns. The driver kept a steady speed as they entered a deserted stretch.
Then, without warning, the shadowing car surged forward. Another vehicle shot out from a side street, cutting sharply across their lane.
The driver cursed under his breath but slammed on the brakes, tires screeching against the dry asphalt.
Before the dust could settle, doors swung open, and four men spilled out, their faces obscured by caps and dark masks. Guns glinted in the harsh sunlight.
"Out," one of them barked, the order slicing through the heavy afternoon air.
The driver's hand twitched toward the gearshift, but the man closest to his side raised his weapon and fired.
The shot cracked like a whip, echoing through the empty road.
The driver slumped forward against the wheel, blood spreading across his shirt in a sharp, shocking stain.
Ayan froze, his breath catching painfully in his chest.
"Come out and… your phone," another man demanded, opening the door for him. His voice was cold and deliberate.
Hands trembling, Ayan fumbled in his pocket and handed over his mobile. The sun beat down mercilessly, making every movement feel unbearably slow.
A gun pressed against his side as one of the men gestured toward their waiting vehicle.
Ayan's mind raced—run? scream?—but instinct overpowered thought. Fighting back would mean nothing here. He stepped out, the scorching road biting at his shoes as he followed their command.
The door of the black car slammed shut behind him with a final, chilling thud. It sped away, the afternoon road shimmering with heat, the Singh mansion now only a distant memory, hidden far beyond the sunlit bends.
---
[Meanwhile—Rawat house]
Aarav descended the wide staircase, phone in hand, his eyes skimming over the screen as he walked. He called Ayan but got no response.
In the hall below, Abhi and Mr. Rawat sat at the long table, papers spread between them. Mr. Rawat's sharp gaze lingered on a business file while Abhi flipped through a report, his brow furrowed in concentration.
Abhi caught a flicker of movement from the corner of his eye and glanced up just as Aarav stepped onto the last stair. A teasing smile curved across his face.
"Focus on the meeting first," Abhi said, his voice carrying a hint of playful reprimand. "Ayan isn't going anywhere."
Aarav looked up from his phone, startled for half a second before a grin tugged at his lips. Mr. Rawat let out a quiet chuckle, the sound warm and amused.
Aarav blushed, pocketing his phone as he walked over to join them. "I just wanted to ask if he's coming to the meeting or not."
Mr. Rawat leaned back in his chair, assuming a tone of deliberate casualness. "He might. And if he doesn't, you can meet him later."
Abhi flipped another page of the report with exaggerated nonchalance. "Oh, lucky enough," he murmured, with a teasing nudge.
Mr. Rawat caught the subtle change and arched a knowing brow at his son. "You don't have to worry," he said, his tone deceptively mild. "You'll meet Arun at the office for sure."
The corner of Aarav's mouth twitched before he burst out laughing, unable to hold it in. Mr. Rawat joined him, their laughter filling the quiet hall.
Abhi ducked his head quickly, pretending to focus on the papers again, but the pink climbing his cheeks betrayed him. Flipping the page a little too sharply only made their laughter louder.
Just as the room settled back into a quiet rhythm, Abhi's phone buzzed on the table. He picked it up, recognizing the same name flashing on the screen.
"Yes, senior?" he said, voice cautious.
Abhi's brow furrowed. He glanced at Aarav and Mr. Rawat, who were still smiling, oblivious to the sudden tension.
"I'll be there," Abhi said firmly, slipping the phone into his pocket. The warmth of earlier laughter faded, replaced with a thread of unease.