After seeing Anaya off to school and Aarav down for his nap, Poornima stood alone in the quiet mansion. Her fingers brushed her lips where Veeresh had kissed her goodbye. It was so small, so fleeting—but it stirred something she had never expected.

She sat by the window, gazing at the framed photo of Pavan she always kept close.

“Pavan…” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I miss you every day. But why… why is my heart beginning to beat for him?”

She looked at Aarav sleeping peacefully, then at Anaya’s toys scattered across the floor. Veeresh’s words, his care, his anger, his warmth—they filled every corner of her life now. And she realized, with a sudden pang, that maybe… her heart was already changing.

Meanwhile, across the city, Veeresh entered the boardroom of Rathore–Shekhawat Industries. The directors straightened instantly, eyes full of both fear and respect. He wore authority like armor, his tailored suit immaculate, his sharp gaze cutting through the room.

“Let’s begin,” Veeresh’s voice was calm but commanding.

The meeting was long, split between business strategies for Rathore Industries and the fragile balance of Shekhawat’s legacy. But beneath the polished corporate talk, another undercurrent stirred—the hidden syndicate, the mafia links that came with Pavan’s empire.

One of the senior board members spoke cautiously. “Sir, the… other side is asking if you’ll take your position in the syndicate formally.”

Veeresh’s eyes narrowed. His fingers drummed against the table once. “Tell them I already have.”

The room fell silent, no one daring to question further. He was more than a businessman now—he was the unchallenged force binding two worlds, power and danger woven together.

But even as he signed papers, his mind betrayed him—drifting back to the warmth of home, to Anaya’s laughter, Aarav’s little hands, and Poornima’s quiet smile. For the first time in years, the empire he ruled didn’t feel like enough.