9:15 AM | Café Pruvia | Ground Floor, The Velvet Edge Hotel
The morning was filtered gold — elegant people murmuring over espresso cups and croissants, jazz notes curling through the air like conversation.
Vivaan spotted Dev near the window, wearing yesterday's navy shirt, sleeves rolled up, hair slightly messy. He looked out of place among the pressed suits and curated brunch orders — but he also looked like home.
Vivaan looked down, then back up, trying to be honest without unraveling.
Vivaan: "I'm not used to... being seen like this."
Dev: "By someone who doesn't want anything from you?"
Vivaan flinched — because Dev didn't know how deeply that cut.
Vivaan: "By someone who sees me before the name."
They sat in silence. Coffee cooling. A question hovered, unanswered. Dev didn't ask it. Yet.
Instead, Vivaan reached across the table and placed his hand gently over Dev's.
Vivaan: "Let's just have today. No questions."
Dev: "Only if you let me ask one tomorrow."
They smiled. A truce made in touch.
Vivan: "It's a time to go back."
11:03 AM | Madhavan's Headquarters | Riyansh's Office
Riyansh's secretary, stood frozen at his door. Tablet in hand. Brows furrowed.
Secratary: "Sir… I… you should see this."
Riyansh looked up, irritation barely masked.
Riyansh: "Is it urgent or another pointless email from legal?"
Secratary:"Not email. Images. From Velvet Edge Hotel's internal security feed."
He paused. She tapped.Two stills appeared.Vivaan. Dev.
One, in the hallway. Close. The other… a kiss, quiet and unmistakably intimate.
Riyansh stared.
The breath left him not with rage — but something heavier. Like betrayal drawn in ink. He didn't speak. Just handed the tablet back slowly.
Riyansh (quietly): "Send it to me. Now."
He stood.Behind him, Rishika entered — holding her phone, hair in a simple bun, eyes tired but sharp.
Rishika: "You called?"
Riyansh turned the tablet toward her.
Silence fell. She didn't react. No gasp. No widened eyes. Just a shift in posture. Subtle. Calculated.
Riyansh: "He lied. To all of us."
Rishika (coldly): "No. He hid. There's a difference."
Riyansh: "My brother's sleeping with someone who doesn't even know who he is."
Rishika: "And you're afraid that someone will ruin everything."
Beat. A long one.
Rishika (dryly): "Tell me, Riyansh. Are you angry because he kissed a man… or because he did it off your leash?"
Riyansh looked up — startled. But Rishika was already turning away, her mind spinning toward strategy.
Riyansh (low): "What do we do now?"
Rishika: "We do what we always do."
Across the City | Riyansh's Private Study, 11:42 AM
Riyansh Madhvan stood in his study, staring at the same photo. Not printed. On his phone now, forwarded quietly from Riyansh with no comment.
He sat back. His younger brother. Vivaan. With a man.
He didn't know Dev. But he saw something there — a gentleness in Vivaan's eyes. A softness that Riyansh hadn't seen in years.
Riyansh didn't speak. He didn't forward it to anyone else.
He just stared. Then placed the phone face down. And whispered, to no one.
Riyansh (softly): "Maybe he's finally found the one thing I never gave him. Freedom."
Location: Madhvan Group Headquarters, 33rd Floor – South Wing, City D
The glass walls of the 33rd floor gleamed under the grey morning light, casting quiet reflections across the floor where ambition had walked, whispered, and wounded.
Inside Riyansh Madhvan's office—the heart of the empire—there was no board meeting today. No calls. No assistants. Just a summons.
Aakash stood before the carved walnut desk, uncertain. Riyansh hadn't looked up once since he entered. The CEO was dressed sharply in a navy bandhgala, his sleeves rolled halfway, eyes scanning a file in silence.
Finally, Riyansh closed the folder and met Aakash's gaze.
"Sit."
Aakash obeyed without a word.
Riyansh slid a thick black envelope across the desk. "Open it."
Aakash did.
Inside were crisp photographs. High-resolution. Time-stamped. The first: Vivaan Madhvan—Riyansh's younger brother—smiling faintly at someone just outside frame.
The second: Dev. But not just "Dev." Dev Mital.
In the photo: Vivaan and Dev standing on a City M sidewalk. Vivaan's hand gently rested on Dev's lower back, protectively. A soft gesture, impossible to fake. Another image—Vivaan and Dev entering a boutique hotel together.
Intimate. Close. Repeated.
Aakash's breath hitched. "This… this isn't real."
Riyansh: "It's real. My secretary flagged unusual reservations on Vivaan's travel history.
Silence burned between them.
"Did you know?" Riyansh asked, quieter now.
"I don't know anything about that" akash ,in serious tone.
Riyansh's voice was calm, but cold. " He's… involved with my brother.
Romantically. Intimately. And Vivaan never told me. I have a right to know who's influencing him."
Aakash shook his head, still stunned. "Dev isn't a manipulator. He's…. Quiet. He's not".
"I'm not accusing," Riyansh interrupted sharply. "Not yet. He's staying in our private hotel suites under an alias."
Aakash looked up, something raw in his tone. "So what are you going to do?"
Riyansh's eyes narrowed. "That depends on what you do, Aakash."
Aakash blinked. He slid the last photo forward—Vivaan sleeping, head resting on Dev's shoulder during a car ride. Shot from behind tinted glass.
"I need the truth. Not gossip. Not guesswork. And I'm trusting you to bring it."
Location: Mital Residence, City D, Time: Late Afternoon
The sun slanted through the tall windows of the Mital residence, casting golden streaks across the modest interiors. It wasn't a house of extravagance, but of quiet discipline — the kind of home where Dev had built a life on routines, honesty, and peace.
He was in the kitchen, boiling tea the way he liked it — strong, with ginger, and no sugar. He hummed under his breath, unaware that Aakash Mital had entered the house, his footsteps silent with urgency.
"Uncle ," Aakash called softly.
Dev turned, surprised. "Aakash? You're here—everything okay?"
Aakash stepped in, but didn't smile. His eyes didn't soften. "We need to talk."
Dev, still holding the tea strainer, looked confused. "About what?"
Aakash exhaled. "About Vivaan."
The air between them stilled. Dev blinked once. "Vivaan?"
"Yes." Aakash's voice dropped. "You care about him. That's obvious. But do you even know who he is?"
Dev straightened, his brow creasing. "He's… he's someone I've close to. He's kind. And brave, in a quiet way. But I never asked—"
"That's the thing," Aakash cut in. "You never asked, and he never told. Because Vivaan Madhvan doesn't live an ordinary life. He's my boss younger brother. He's from one of the most powerful families in the country. He's been hiding from all of that — and from you."
Dev stood still, as if hit by wind. "Madhvan?"
"Yes. The brother of Riyansh Madhvan. The man rebuilding TK Jewellers ,the ceo of madhavan's investment group — he knows. He's seen the pictures. He's asked for you."
Dev set the strainer down. "Pictures?"
Aakash nodded grimly. "Someone from Riyansh's inner circle — his secretary — followed you in City M. Vivaan was careless. You were seen together. Holding hands. The rooftop. The hotel balcony. Everything."
Silence. Dev's voice cracked, soft but firm. "And what… does Riyansh want?"
"To meet you," Aakash said. "That's all he said. But knowing him… he's not just curious. He's strategic. You're a variable. And right now, Vivaan is not just his brother — he's part of a legacy they're trying to protect. You get what I mean?"
Dev's hands slowly clenched on the counter. "I didn't know. I swear, Aakash. He never told me. He said he had things to share… someday."
"I believe you," Aakash said. "You've never lied to me. You're not like us."
There was a pause. Then Dev asked the question he had always feared.
"Was I a mistake to him?"
Aakash looked away. "That's for him to answer. But Dev — Riyansh sir wants to see you. Not Vivaan. You."
Dev looked at the tea, now over-boiled and bitter.
"When?" he asked quietly.
Aakash pulled out a small black card — no logo, just a hotel room number and a time.
"Tonight. Imperial Tower. Suite 1501."