Evening, 4:00 PM..At the Mall…
Rudra stood in one corner, a lady’s handbag slung over his shoulder and about five or six paper bags full of clothes in his hands.
A little ahead, in the clothing section, Ruhi and Ira were busy shopping. Their eyes sparkled with excitement — just like a child’s when they finally get to play their favorite game.
Letting out a deep sigh, Rudra muttered, “Why can’t they shop from just one place?! It’s been four hours — we’ve already been through two malls, and now we’re in the third! And even here, they’ve already bought half a dozen things! Is there no end to this shopping madness!?”
As he complained to himself, his eyes drifted a short distance ahead — to Anamika, who was leaning against a wall, quietly sketching something in a small diary.
Just then, Ira tugged Anamika’s hand and said, “Come on, delicate flower! Ruhi found a dress for you, but I told her it won’t suit you! Let’s prove me or her wrong — go on, try it!”
Rudra frowned.
“Poor Anamika’s in a worse condition than me! At least I’m standing here with bags, but she’s been forced to try on endless dresses. The poor girl can’t even draw in peace! Where on earth do these two get all this energy!?”
Then, as his gaze followed Ruhi’s direction, he noticed something — Ruhi was holding a dress meant for Anamika, but her attention was fixed elsewhere.
When Anamika and Ira joined her, the three of them headed toward the trial rooms. Rudra’s eyes followed Ruhi’s line of sight ——and stopped on a mannequin.
It was dressed in a half-checked, half-brown asymmetrical blazer — one side sleek and formal, the other soft and playful. The gold buttons caught the light, adding a refined touch. It even had a short-hair wig, completing the bold, modern look.
Rudra glanced once at Ruhi standing outside the trial room, then walked straight toward the mannequin.
A salesgirl approached him politely.
“Sir, may I help you with something?”
Rudra smiled gently.
“Yes, could you pack this outfit for me? I’d like to buy it.”
The girl smiled brightly.
“You’ve got great taste, sir! That’s part of XX Designer’s limited edition collection. It’s quite expensive, though I’m sure your girlfriend will love it!”
Rudra blinked innocently.
“Expensive? How expensive can it be?”
The girl hesitated before replying softly, “Uh… one thousand dollars.”
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Then she looked at the pile of shopping bags in his hands and wondered silently, ‘Can he really buy something that pricey after all that shopping?’
Rudra immediately said, “Oh, that’s quite cheap actually!”
“What?!” the salesgirl gasped.
Rudra chuckled.
“Yes! Please pack it up. My sweetheart will look gorgeous in this! And when I come next time, show me something even better than this one.”
The girl stared at him, half in disbelief, half in admiration.
‘What kind of miracle did his girlfriend pray for to get a man like this? Handsome and generous?!’
Rudra waved a hand.
“Quickly, please — pack it fast!”
The girl rushed to wrap it up and handed him the bag in record time. Rudra smiled, just as Ruhi, Ira, and Anamika returned.
Ruhi handed him two more bags.
“Looks like we’re done for the month! Now… it’s your turn to treat us to something nice!”
Rudra pouted dramatically.
“Hey! I’ve been carrying your bags all day — shouldn’t you be treating me?”
Ruhi made a cute face.
“But I spent all my money on shopping!”
Ira chimed in, “Same here! I used everything my brother gave me. Though… I could always call him and ask for more!”
Rudra quickly raised his hand.
“Hey, hey! I’m not unemployed, okay? I’ve got plenty of money!”
Ruhi narrowed her eyes.
“Then why were you asking for a treat from us, mister rich man?”
Turning away with a smirk, Rudra said, “I was just joking, sweetheart. Why do you always take me so seriously?”
Ira folded her arms.
“By the way, Rudra bhai… don’t you think calling Ruhi sweetheart, even as a joke, could make people misunderstand? They’ll think she’s your girlfriend!”
Ruhi nodded.
“I told this idiot the same thing! But he never listens!”
Anamika, who had been quiet all this while, finally spoke softly, “Hey… how about we go have some pastries?”
Rudra smiled warmly.
“Sounds perfect. Let me take you all to the best pastry shop in town!”
They walked off together, laughing. Behind them, the salesgirl watched in disbelief.
‘He calls a friend “sweetheart,” buys her a thousand-dollar outfit, and carries her bags too?! Unbelievable! Is she really that dumb to not get this or just I am the one who is overthinking!?’
**Meanwhile…At X Hospital…**
Aditya sat in a quiet room, his expression calm and confident. His suit jacket rested neatly on the chair beside him, and his sleeves were rolled up.
Adjusting his hair with one hand, he asked, “So… stomach cancer, right?”
The man sitting across from him — someone in his sixties — nodded slowly.
“Yes… though I never expected my son would send you instead of coming himself. Afterall you are a really wealthy man with a lot of work! ”
Aditya replied smoothly, “Who said your son sent me?”
The man’s face stiffened.
“What? You mean… My son never got the letter I sent him? Did you stop it from reaching him?”
His voice rose, but Aditya remained calm.
“You shouldn’t raise your voice in this condition, sir. And yes — your son did read the letter. Though I never told him that I knew about it, or about you.”
He leaned forward slightly, tone steady and sharp.
“I don’t know what his decision will be, but before that… I must make mine. I have to decide whether any attempt from your side to contact him should be allowed — or stopped.”
There was something in Aditya’s voice — eerily calm, yet cold enough to freeze the air.
The older man clenched his fists.
“So you want to keep a dying father away from his only son?! What kind of man are you?! People call you ‘The Great Businessman,’ don’t they?!”
Aditya smiled faintly.
“Sir, if we’re bringing business into this — then let me tell you what business logic says: once you’ve sold something, you lose all rights to it. And if I remember correctly… you sold your only son years ago.
I was the one who pulled him out of that hell, and now it’s my responsibility to make sure he never falls into a demon’s hands again.”
The man slammed his fist on the table.
“I’m no demon! I’m Rivan’s father! My name is Yuvraj Singh! And you dare call me a demon?!”
Aditya stood, picked up his jacket, and gave a calm, chilling smile.
“Yuvraj, huh? Which means… The king!’”
He paused, eyes narrowing.
“Actually, you’re right — calling you a demon would be unfair. You’re not a demon… just a fallen king — drowned in gambling, lust, and greed.
Anyway, I can still consider giving you another chance, sir — if your behavior convinces me you’ve changed. Maybe someday, I’ll even bring Rivan to meet you. But if not… then the next time I visit, it’ll only be to bring flowers to your funeral.”
With that, Aditya gave one last smile and walked out.
The moment he stepped outside, the smile vanished.
He took a deep breath, slipped on his jacket, and thought, “This man is drowning in debt. Even after selling Rivan, his greed didn’t end. The bastard kept gambling and lost everything — now he eats at temple kitchens and sleeps in a homeless shelter like a beggar.
The doctor said his cancer’s at an early stage — with proper treatment, he can recover. But I doubt he can even afford hospital fees, let alone medicines. I need to decide quickly… Should Rivan really have a man like him back in his life?”
As those thoughts swirled, Aditya reached the hospital exit.
He looked back once, murmuring to himself, “I have to make a decision soon… before it’s too late.”
Then, without another word, he got into his car and drove away.
