Veins of Power, Threads of Fate

The silence of midnight was broken only by the rhythmic tick of an antique grandfather clock in the Raghuvanshi mansion. Moonlight filtered through tall glass windows, casting pale silver shadows on the marble floors. At the center of this fortress of power and wealth sat Mr. Dev Raghuvanshi, the man whose name echoed in boardrooms by day and in the underworld by night.

He stood tall at his office window, his frame dressed in a sharp three-piece black suit. His eyes—cold, calculating, and unreadable—stared out at the glittering city of Mumbai below, but his mind was elsewhere. In his world, trust was currency and emotions were liabilities. He had learned the hard way that love betrayed, and women were the architects of manipulation. Ever since a woman from his past had poisoned his faith, Dev had sworn off the concept of love—and most importantly, women.

Despite being a successful CEO and the underground mafia king, tonight, he was a man cornered.

"Dev beta, please come down. Your father is calling you to the dining room," came the soft voice of Lata Raghuvanshi, his mother.

Dev didn't turn around. "I'll be there in five minutes," he replied curtly.

Lata lingered a moment. Her son's heart had turned to stone over the years, and though he never raised his voice at her, he never allowed her near his soul either. She was the only softness in his dark empire, the last surviving thread of his humanity. With a sigh, she walked away, her bangles clinking softly as she descended the stairs.

Downstairs, the atmosphere was thick with tension.

"Where is he?" barked Rajnath Raghuvanshi, a man of towering discipline and stern pride. A former military officer turned political kingmaker, he had ruled his family with an iron fist.

"Dev will be here," Lata said gently.

"I won't wait another minute. He needs to hear this tonight. It's time he fulfilled his duty."

Just then, Dev entered the room, the aura around him shifting the energy immediately. He walked with quiet command, his presence overpowering the very walls of the room.

"You called," Dev said, sitting across from his parents.

Rajnath leaned forward. "Yes. I made a promise twenty-five years ago to my best friend, and I will honor it. It's time you get married."

Dev's jaw tightened. "You're serious?"

"Dead serious," Rajnath said. "You will marry his daughter—Ekta Malhotra."

Dev scoffed. "I'm not interested in playing house, Father. You know that."

"You've had your time," Rajnath snapped. "You run a business empire and a darker one beneath it. But this house, this family, needs a daughter-in-law. Your brother Veer needs a bhabhi. Your mother—" his voice softened—"she deserves to see you settled before her last breath."

Dev's face twitched. The mention of his mother was his only weakness.

"I don't even know this girl," he said flatly.

"You'll meet her. One meeting. That's all I ask," Lata chimed in. "She's a professor. Comes from a good home. She's... different."

Different? Dev doubted that. In his experience, women always came with secrets, agendas, and illusions.

He stood up, buttoning his coat. "Fine. I'll meet her. But I'm not promising anything."

Meanwhile in Udaipur...

Professor Ekta Malhotra stood in front of a classroom, her dupatta pinned neatly on her pastel yellow kurti. Her voice was soft but confident as she explained Indian literature to her students. She smiled, encouraged, listened, and gently corrected—an image of warmth and wisdom.

But beneath the surface of that sunshine was a girl with scars no one could see.

That night, in her modest apartment, she sat by the window with her journal. Her best friend Naina, who was now married and lived nearby, called her.

"Kya kar rahi ho, Ektu?" Naina asked affectionately.

"Just... writing. Classes were a little heavy today."

"You had another nightmare last night, didn't you?"

Ekta was silent.

"Ekta, you need to stop pretending you're fine."

"I can't explain them, Naina. Faces. Fire. Screams. But I don't know who they are. My parents say I was found during a palace fire in Rajasthan. No one came to claim me. They adopted me when I was seven."

Naina exhaled. "Maybe it's time you asked them the truth."

"I don't want to hurt them," Ekta said softly. "They gave me love when no one else did. I won't question them."

Naina understood. Ekta was too loyal, too kind. Even to those who didn't deserve her mercy.

As they ended the call, Ekta's phone buzzed again. This time, her father.

"Ekta beta, we have some news. A very respectable family... the Raghuvanshis... they want to see you for a proposal."

Her heart skipped a beat.

Marriage?

She barely knew how to breathe around strangers without panicking. She had anxiety attacks if someone raised their voice. How would she live in a new house, a new life?

But she didn't say no. She never did.

"Okay, Papa," she whispered. "If you think it's right... I trust you."

Outside, the wind picked up.

Two souls. Two broken hearts. A storm quietly gathering.