Ravi sat, still trying to process the moment. He had just offered 90 million worth of investment—without blinking.
Mehta had looked at him like he was just Rudra's assistant.
Mistake.
This wasn't the same Ravi who came in three years ago fresh from London. This was Ravi 2.0—the man who'd studied Rudra silently, learned Aarav's pace, and understood the chessboard of legacy.
This was Ravi who now held 25% of the company.
And judging by Rudra's silence and Dev's approval, this was Ravi who had just earned a permanent seat at the table.
He turned to Rudra. Their eyes met.
No words.
Just understanding.
Aarav's Quiet Fire
Aarav sipped his coffee. Unlike the other two, his pride wasn't loud. But it was real.
He had always been the wildcard—less predictable, more instinctive. But today, he followed Rudra's lead without ego. Because he knew one truth: alone, he was strong. Together?
They were unbeatable.
As the meeting wrapped up, papers were signed, legal teams moved in, and the once-chaotic storm began to clear.
But in the eyes of every remaining board member, one thing was certain:
The Singhaniyas were not just a dynasty.
They were a fortress.
And Rudra Singhaniya?
He was the wall no one could breach.
From outside the glass windows of the boardroom, Delhi shimmered in the 11 a.m. sunlight. The city below moved on, unaware that in a room above them, legacy had just been defended… and history had just been made.
✒➳➳➳➳➳ඞ➳➳➳➳➳➳
The boardroom had emptied, but the air was still thick with power. The tension of corporate betrayal had simmered down, and the lions of Singhaniya Hotels—Rudra, Aarav, and Ravi—remained standing.
The victory was theirs. The crown? Still in place.But the war was far from over.
Dev Singhaniya stood near the tall glass windows, the Delhi skyline reflecting on his watch face. The city was loud. His heart, silent.
He turned, watching his sons—not just by blood, but now by business.
"You three managed that well," Dev said calmly, voice warm but heavy.
Rudra gave a short nod. Aarav leaned back with his usual lazy grin.
Aarav added playfully, "Actually Dad, we planned the entire move last night. Boom. Ravi makes the offer. Rudra keeps the fear alive. I deliver the legal clause. And voilà—Mehta gone."
He turned to Ravi, who was quietly sipping his water. "Also… congrats, Mr. Official Board Member of The Lux Heaven."
(Singhaniya International Hotel – Delhi's crown jewel. Known across continents. The palace of power.)
Ravi cracked a rare smile. "Still getting used to the title."
Just then, Dev raised his hand. "Everyone else, please… you can leave. I need to talk to my sons. Privately."
The assistants and legal advisors began exiting with polite bows and murmured respect.
"Thank you, sir."
"Yes sir, I'll process the transfer paperwork."
The room slowly emptied, leaving only the four of them—Dev, Rudra, Aarav, and Ravi.
Dev clicked the intercom.
"Rajesh, get us chai. And strong one."
"Ji sir," came the voice from outside.
He took his seat at the head of the boardroom, exhaling slowly, the weight of decades pressing down on him.
"Come. Sit," he said, gesturing at the seats opposite him.
The trio took their places, each man sinking into leather chairs that had witnessed decades of secrets, deals, and shifting loyalties.
There was a long pause. Dev looked at each of them—his eyes heavier than usual.
"I want to talk to you," he said, voice suddenly... personal.
Not as a Chairman.
As a father.
Dev Singhaniya's Story Begins
"You all know our rival—Rajawat Group. But maybe you don't know why they're our rival."
Rudra's brows tightened slightly. Aarav leaned forward, suddenly serious. Ravi sat back but listened intently.
Dev's voice dropped a notch. Quiet. Cold.
"This rivalry didn't start with your generation. Or even with mine. It started the day my father, Raghuveer Singhaniya, died."
The room fell still.
Dev's hands steepled in front of him on the table.
"That same day… their grandfather, Samar Rajawat, also died. Both men—respected. Feared. Friends, once."
"Friends?" Ravi asked.
Dev nodded. "Best friends. Brothers in everything except blood. They built empires side by side. Helped each other rise. Created corridors of power in this city. And then… in one day, both were gone."
He paused. Pain flickered behind his eyes.
"They died in the same crash. Same car. A business trip—short flight, late-night drive. The press said brakes failed. I was barely older than Rudra is now."
Aarav whispered, "I remember the stories. But no one ever said Rajawat was in the car."
"No one knew," Dev said softly. "That truth was kept quiet. But after the funeral… the Rajawat family blamed us."
"Why?" Rudra's voice was low, firm.
Dev answered without flinching. "Because the driver was ours. Singhaniya staff. Rajawats believed we sent him. That we planned it. They thought we wanted Samar gone… so Raghuveer Singhaniya could dominate the hotel line solo."
"That's insane," Aarav muttered.
"It doesn't matter," Dev said sharply. "That belief hardened into hate. Samar's son, Rajveer Rajawat, grew up thinking we killed his father. And that's when it started—the cold war."
Ravi leaned forward now. "What happened then?"
Dev smiled bitterly. "Deals turned into legal battles. Every time we expanded, they countered. They hired our ex-employees. They blocked our permits. It was quiet. Silent. But deadly."
"And now?" Rudra asked, his voice colder than Dev's.
Dev met his eyes directly.
"Now they want this hotel. Lux Heaven."
"Of course," Aarav whispered. "The flagship. The crown."
"They tried through Mehta," Ravi said softly, putting the final piece together.
Dev nodded. "And they'll try again. This time louder. Harder."
Rajesh entered with tea, placed the tray silently, and left.
Dev sipped and continued.
"Beta," he said, turning to Rudra. "This… boardroom war? That was the surface. The real game is beneath. Rajawat doesn't just want shares. They want humiliation. They want to destroy everything your grandfather built."
"And they'll use every tool. Politics. Media. Black money. Even emotional ties."
He looked at Ravi. "They'll think you're the weakest. The newest."
Ravi lifted his chin. "They'll regret thinking that."
Dev smiled faintly, proud.
Then turned to Aarav. "They'll target you publicly—your lifestyle, your choices."
Aarav's voice turned dark. "Let them. I have nothing to hide."
Then Dev looked at Rudra.
"And you?" he said softly. "They fear you. But they'll also come for you first. Because you look like a wall—but they'll keep hitting until they find a crack."
Rudra met his father's gaze, unwavering.
"They can try," he said. "But they won't find it."
.______..______.📑📑📑
The room sat in silence again. But this time, it wasn't heavy with tension. It was heavy with resolve.
For the first time in a long time, Dev Singhaniya felt something he hadn't in years—confidence.
Not just in the future of the business. But in the sons sitting before him. Each different. But each ready to protect what was theirs.
Dev stood.
"I told you this today, not to scare you. But to prepare you. Because this battle—it's generational. Emotional. And personal."
"But this time?" he added, looking out the glass window once again.
"We don't just survive it. We finish it."
Rudra rose next. "I'll prepare the counter intel team. We monitor every Rajawat move from now."
Aarav stretched. "And I'll make sure every lawyer in Delhi remembers our name before taking their calls."
Ravi stood last. "And I'll speak softly. So when I do strike—it echoes."
Dev smiled wide now.
"My boys," he said. "Dad would be proud."
The boardroom still smelled faintly of strong chai and quiet triumph.
The storm of shareholders had passed, the chairs had been pushed back, and most of the staff had left the space with buzzing energy. Only the strongest remained—Dev, Rudra, Aarav, and Ravi—sitting at the polished obsidian table inside The Lux Heaven, Singhaniya International's most prestigious hotel in Delhi.
It was only 12:30 p.m., but the day had felt like a full-blown war.
And the war wasn't over.
Dev Singhaniya glanced at his watch, then looked toward Rudra with that mix of fatherly ease and commanding presence that only he could balance. His voice was calm but final.
"Tum log ghar jao ab. Thoda rest lo. Anaya ki flight hai aaj raat mein."(You all should go home now. Get some rest. Anaya's flight is tonight.)
The words hit Rudra differently.
He hadn't forgotten. But hearing it aloud? From Dev? It struck something… sharp.
Rudra's jaw tightened as he slowly turned toward Ravi, whose otherwise calm expression gave away the flicker of tension in his eyes.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Rudra asked, voice low, almost too calm.
His gaze didn't blink. His stare wasn't asking—it was accusing.
Ravi held it for a moment, his own tone even."It must've been the HR department. They handle internal logistics. I just signed off on the assignment this morning."
Rudra didn't react. But that stare remained, unflinching. It wasn't just about a flight.It was about Anaya.It was about trust.
Ravi understood that much.
Dev, still seated at the head of the table, raised a brow as he picked up on the sharp current between his sons."Toh tum dono ja rahe ho? You two are the assigned seniors?" he asked casually, already knowing the answer.