The Rajputana Haveli's high-arched windows let in the first rays of sunlight, which illuminated the marble floor with a golden glow. Once silent in grief, the palace was now at peace—the kind of false calm that comes only before a storm.
With his head throbbing from the previous night's alcohol, Arjun turned in bed with a small groan. He could hardly recall how he got to his room. His throat felt like sandpaper, and his tongue had a bitter aftertaste.
He blinked bewilderedly and slowly sat up. His thoughts went back to the evening—the document, the toast to his father, the laughter, the warmth of nostalgia, his uncle's voice...
He knitted his brows.
Last night, did I sign anything?
He dismissed the idea. It was probably a small matter. The paperwork was frequently handled by his uncle.
After putting on a shirt, he went barefoot to the balcony and gazed down at the expansive gardens. The air smelled of mogra flowers. In the distance, peacocks screamed.
It seemed like the start of the ideal day.
Then his phone rang.
The name of his personal secretary, Raghini, appeared on the screen, and Arjun scowled. She never made such an early call.
He took it up.
"Good morning, Ragini. What's—"
Her voice cracked with tension as she said, "I'm so sorry, sir." "I'm not sure how to explain this to you... You are no longer the Chairman.
Not a word.
"What?"
"This morning, the Board cast its vote. An urgent meeting. The paperwork was already filed. Someone has taken your place. With immediate effect.
Arjun gasped. "What on earth are you discussing? No board meeting was approved by me.
She paused. "But, sir... your signature was on the documents."
His heart skipped a beat.
last evening.
The beverage. The laughter. The signature.
No. No, it is not possible.
"I'm heading to the office," he declared, already putting on his pants with trembling hands. "Hold everyone there." Don't allow anything to proceed.
When Arjun arrived at Rajput Industries Tower, the company's headquarters, his jaw was clenched tightly and he was filled with rage.
However, two security officers blocked his way as soon as he attempted to enter the gate.
Arjun snarled, "Move."
One said stiffly, eyes flicking away, "I'm sorry, sir." "We've been told not to let you in."
"The Chairman is me!" Arjun lost his temper.
The second guard said almost apologetically, "Sir, according to current records, you are no longer a member of the board." "At this time, Mr. Rajveer Singh is the acting Chairman."
As though they were speaking a foreign language, Arjun gazed at them. He grabbed his phone and dialed Ragini. She didn't respond.
He dialed his lawyer. No response.
Three directors he personally appointed were put to the test. Every call was disconnected.
When their eyes met through the glass door, the building's receptionist, who used to bow each time he walked in, now turned away.
He didn't exist.
thrown away.
Arjun stood like a stranger, locked out of the glass palace he had constructed himself.
He went back to the haveli, his house, his haven, his last resting place, that afternoon.
However, he noticed men packing boxes into trucks as his vehicle got closer to the gates. Workers were already changing the nameplate inside the compound to Rajveer Singh Rajput & Family.
Another group of guards stopped him as he slammed the car door and dashed to the front steps.
"What's happening?" he insisted.
One said, "Your name is no longer associated with the Haveli." "We've been told not to let you in."
Arjun's voice faltered. Call Rajveer. Inform him of my presence.
Despite his nervous appearance, one of the guards called.
Rajveer himself emerged from the main door a minute later.
No warmth. Not guilty.
There was only a serene grin on his face.
"Didn't I raise you like a son?" Rajveer remarked nonchalantly. And notice how emotional you're becoming. Arjun, you ought to have read the documents before signing them.
"You deceived me."
"No," Rajveer said with ease. "I offered you an option. You took a drink. You had faith. You put your signature there.
Arjun balled his fists. "You're my uncle."
"And now, I'm the only Rajput who matters," Rajveer remarked as he moved closer.
Disbelief twisted Arjun's face. "Why? You had it all. Why take mine?
Rajveer muttered, "Because you had something I didn't." "A heritage. a name that people went by. A future. Furthermore, I refused to submit to a boy.
After turning away, he paused and said, "You have an hour to gather your belongings and depart. Everything in this palace, including your memories, is then mine.
He attempted to call friends. allies. business associates. They all stayed away from him. Several courteously refused his calls. Others completely abandoned him.
The filtered, bright world of power was gone.
He was no longer needed.
Hours later, a friend sent him a single line in response to his message: "Arjun, supply and demand govern this world. You can no longer provide us with what we need.
The glistening shell suddenly cracked.
No house. Not rich. No name.
Just an old duffel bag, a small savings account, and a betrayed heart.
Arjun sat by himself that evening at the Jaipur train station, gazing at the departure board.
Palaces are over. No more guards. No more delusions.
Nothing more than a boy with a royal name.
After lowering his cap, he boarded a train to Mumbai, the city of dreams in India.
But it was only a place to live for him.
Unbeknownst to him at the time, Mumbai would not only put him to the test but also change him.
And something much bigger would emerge from the ashes of his demise.