Chapter 1: The Man Behind the Empire

The sky over Bangalore was cloudy, as if mirroring the quiet storm in Veeresh Suryavanshi’s heart.

He sat at the head of a long, polished teakwood table in his private office on the 40th floor of Suryavanshi Enterprises, overlooking the city he had conquered. Veeresh wasn’t just a name; he was a brand—respected, feared, admired. A billionaire, an innovator, a perfectionist.

But none of those titles mattered more to him than one: Ayan's father.

His one-year-old son was the only reason he woke up with purpose every morning. Veeresh never smiled much these days, but Ayan could make him chuckle even after the hardest meetings. The little boy had his mother's eyes... and his silence.

Ayan rarely spoke. Just soft hums. No “Papa.” No “Dada.” Just... quiet.

Today, after returning from a business deal in Singapore, Veeresh found his parents and younger brother waiting for him at home. Their expressions weren’t casual—they had that look again.

“Veeresh,” his mother started gently, serving him his favorite lemon rasam, “We need to talk about Ayan.”

He took a deep breath, already knowing where this was going.

“He’s growing up, beta,” his father added, concern etched deep into his wrinkles. “He needs more than just love. He needs care... warmth. A woman’s touch.”

“I’m enough for him,” Veeresh replied softly, eyes tired. “I give him everything.”

“You give him everything except what he needs the most,” his brother Rishabh said, stepping forward. “A mother’s presence.”

Silence filled the room.

Veeresh clenched his jaw and looked away. His ex-wife’s shadow still haunted these walls. Her cold departure, her final words—“I didn’t sign up for a child or a family. I want freedom.”

His heart had shut its doors ever since.

But when he walked into Ayan’s room that night and saw the boy sleeping curled up with a soft toy, alone again... something stirred inside him.

His father's voice echoed again, low and steady:

“Maybe it’s time to open your heart again… not for you, Veeresh. But for Ayan.”

Veeresh stood still at the door, hand on the frame, eyes fixed on his son.

Maybe it was time.

Maybe... Ayan needed a home, not just a house.

Maybe that home... needed someone else.

And as the city lights flickered outside, Veeresh knew something was going to change.

Scene fades.