The registrar's clock hit 10:59.
One minute to go.
The fan creaked louder in the silence.
Madhura's pen hovered over the signature line, knuckles white.
Niti bit her lip.
Ravi checked his phone.
Ishaan stood like a statue, green Seiko ticking the seconds.
The door burst open.
Aarush, Divit, and Zavian tumbled in, ties crooked, faces red from running or rage.
Aarush (panting): "We're here! Traffic—"
Divit: "Horrible traffic—"
Zavian: "Traffic all the way."
Basu Bhai didn't stand. He just leaned back in his plastic chair, eyes sharp as knives.
Basu Bhai: "Cutting it close, gentlemen. One minute more and the stamp falls without you. That would've been… bad. Very bad for your pockets. Sign. Now. No speeches."
The uncles grabbed the pens like they were hot coals.
Aarush signed first, hand shaking.
Divit next, muttering under his breath.
Zavian last, scribbling so fast the ink smudged.
Done.
Three signatures. Zero claims. Full loans marked paid. Twenty percent empire—restaurants, shops, factory—Madhura's forever.
Aarush turned to Ishaan, face twisted.
Aarush: "Relying on outsiders won't help you forever, boy. Forcefully taking property is a sin. Bad karma."
Ishaan stepped forward, voice calm but steel underneath.
Ishaan: "It was my father's property. Built with his sweat. You had no right to swallow it when he died. Today it's just going home—to his wife. That's not force. That's justice."
Divit opened his mouth, closed it.
Zavian spat on the floor—missed the spittoon by a foot.
Aarush (last shot): "Madhura, no place for you in our house anymore. Never Come Back."
Madhura stood tall, saree pallu straight, eyes dry now.
Madhura: "No problem. My son has found a new good place. Big enough for me, Niti, and peace."
The uncles froze.
Divit: "New place? With what money?"
Aarush his voice rising, "That slum boy? Reliable? Ha!"
Ishaan's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
The uncles stormed out, door slamming like a gunshot.
Basu Bhai rose, folded hands to Madhura.
Basu Bhai: "Ben, any day, any time—call me direct. I'm your brother now. No debts, no favors. Just family. Rajesh bhai would've done the same for me."
Madhura touched his arm lightly.
Madhura: "Thank you, Basu ji."
Basu Bhai turned to Niti, tapped her head gently like a favorite uncle.
Basu Bhai: "Beti, whatever happens—these uncles of yours? Forget them. This uncle is always here."
He reached into his kurta pocket, pulled out a thick rubber-banded bundle—crisp five-hundreds, at least fifty thousand.
Pressed it into Niti's small hand.
Niti: "Uncle, no—I can't—"
Basu Bhai closed her fingers over it, "Gift from uncle to niece. Buy books, dresses, ice cream. No returns."
Niti's eyes welled. She nodded, the bundle disappearing into her purse.
Basu Bhai thumped Ishaan's shoulder.
Basu Bhai: "Tiger, call if the wolves come back. Otherwise, go build your empire."
He strode out, fifty men falling in step behind him like shadows.
Ishaan picked up the certified files, tucked them under his arm.
Ishaan: "Ma, Niti—let's go. Taxi stand is two minutes."
They walked the shady Bandra lane.
Madhura's steps lighter. Niti swinging the purse with the bundle inside.
Ishaan: "Free now, Ma. No more begging. Focus on the business—restaurants, factories, shops. Hire managers if you want. Any problem, call me or Basu Bhai. We handle it."
Madhura looked at the files, then at him. She didn't say much—she never did. Just a small smile, eyes soft.
Madhura: "Okay, beta."
Niti: "Bhai, will we really have no problems from uncles anymore?"
Ishaan: "I am Here for you, don't think about it anymore."
Taxi stand.
Yellow-black cab pulled up.
Ishaan loaded them in, paid the driver extra for Mahim direct.
Ishaan: "Text when you reach."
Madhura: "We will."
The cab merged into traffic. Ishaan watched till it vanished.
Ravi jogged up, helmet dangling.
Ravi: "Emotional stuff over? Flat hunting time. My stomach's growling louder than the Bullet."
They roared to Santacruz East.
First flat—Ravi's shortlist.
15th floor, 2BHK, 850 sq ft. The broker opened the door with a flourish.
Ravi walked the empty hall, poked the kitchen, stepped on the tiny balcony.
Ravi: "View of a water tank and others living rooms. Pass."
Second flat.
18th floor, same society. Bigger kitchen, but bathroom tiles cracked like spiderwebs.
Ravi: "Feels like a hostel. Next."
Third flat.
20th floor, different tower. Balcony faced a construction site. Dust in the air.
Ravi: "I'll choke before I pay rent. Keep moving."
Fourth flat.
24th floor, Tower C. Broker: "Last one for you, sir. 1000 sq ft, 2BHK, corner unit."
The door opened.
Sunlight poured in like gold.
Open hall with white walls. Compact kitchen—gas point, exhaust ready. Two bedrooms, one with a built-in wardrobe.
But the balcony—long, narrow, wrapped half the flat. Sea breeze straight from the Arabian, distant waves glittering, planes descending over the airport like toys.
Ravi stepped out, hands on the railing, wind whipping his hair.
Ravi grinned, "This. This is it. View for days. I can shoot reels here without Mrs. Sharma's bras in the background. Finite. Lock it."
Broker: "Its 75 lakhs, Cash or Loan.? "
Ravi: "Tomorrow morning. I'll bring the cheque for 20 Lakhs and rest loan."
They moved to Ishaan's hunt.
First 3BHK—ground floor, garden view blocked by a dumpster.
Ishaan: "Smells like garbage. No."
Second—10th floor, 1800 sq ft, but tiny kitchen, no natural light.
Ishaan: "Ari will hate cooking in a cave. Pass."
Third flat.
12th floor, Tower A—half a kilometer from Ravi's building. Broker: "Premium society. 2300 sq ft, 3BHK, ready to move."
The door swung open.
Huge living hall—space for a dining table, sofa set, even a small pooja corner.
Master bedroom with attached bath and walk-in space. Two more bedrooms, one for In-laws, one guest. Three bathrooms total—marble floors, rain showers.
Kitchen modular—granite counter, four-burner hob, exhaust chimney.
But the star: the long lavish balcony—L-shaped, wrapping two sides. One end faced a small manicured garden with a bench. The other end caught the sea breeze. Morning sun would flood the hall.
Society perks: gym with treadmills, yoga deck, kids' play area, infinity pool on the podium, 24/7 security, power backup.
Ishaan walked the balcony slowly, phone out, recording video—360 spins, zoom on the garden, light in each room.
Ishaan: "This could be it. Space for us. View for my mornings. Garden for Walks."
Broker: "Rent 80K, deposit four months. High demand."
Ishaan: "Need to show my wife. Evening visit?"
Broker (handing over the key): "Take the key. Bring her after work. If she likes, keep it and pay token tomorrow. If not, return the key, I'll show more. No pressure."
Ishaan pocketed the key, nodded.
Ishaan: "Deal. I'm sending videos now."
Ravi fist-bumped him outside the lift.
Ravi: "Brothers in nearby towers. Rise together."
Ishaan: "Always."
The Bullet waited under the society tree.
Key heavy in Ishaan's pocket.
Videos already uploaded to Ari.
Sun Dipping Lower.