Chapter 3

VEERANSHU

When I moved back to the mansion, I thought it would bring back memories of my childhood, of my parents—the faint sound of my mother's laughter, my father's deep, reassuring voice, the scent of their favorite jasmine incense filling the hallways. But as I stepped through the grand oak doors and into the sprawling silence, I realized I felt... nothing.

No nostalgia, no warmth, no sadness. Just an empty hollowness that mocked me for even trying to summon those memories.

I paced through the house that had once been my home, hoping for a flicker of the past, but it was as though those memories had dissolved, leaving no trace. It made me feel pathetic. How could I forget them? They were my parents, my flesh and blood, the only people who had ever truly loved me. But as much as I hated myself for the absence of those memories, I was also relieved.

Memories, after all, had a way of dragging you into the past, into a world where pain was as vivid as the joy. Maybe it was better this way—better to be numb than to feel the sharp edges of loss all over again.

Days turned into weeks, and slowly, life began to resemble something normal again. Work became my refuge—a place where I could drown myself in numbers, deals, and decisions. My assistant, Naman, ensured the transition back to the mansion was seamless. He had cleared out the penthouse as instructed, removing every trace of Siya.

The mansion, though cold and empty, began to feel less like a mausoleum and more like a fortress. I focused on my businesses, keeping my schedule packed to avoid thinking too much. My reputation as a ruthless, calculating businessman returned in full force. If anyone noticed the faint cracks in my demeanor, they were smart enough not to mention it.

But as much as I tried to bury myself in work, I knew something was missing. My life had become a carefully curated façade—a shield to protect me from the loneliness I refused to acknowledge.

One evening, I received an unexpected call from Ram Kumar, one of my father's oldest friends and a man who had been something of a guardian to me after my parents' death.

"Veer, we need to talk. Meet me at Lavanya at 8 p.m. tonight," he said in his usual brusque manner.

"What is this about, Ram Uncle?" I asked.

"You'll know when you get there. Don't be late," he replied before hanging up.

Curiosity and a tinge of annoyance swirled within me as I made my way to the restaurant later that evening. Lavanya was a quiet, upscale place, known for its discretion. It wasn't unusual for Ram Uncle to discuss business matters in such settings, but there was something about his tone that suggested this was no ordinary meeting.

When I arrived, I saw him seated at a corner table with an older man I didn't recognize. The man was frail but carried himself with a quiet dignity. His sharp eyes met mine as I approached.

"Veer, this is Mr. Gupta," Ram Uncle said, gesturing to the older man. "And this meeting is... unusual, to say the least."

I took a seat, nodding politely at Mr. Gupta. "What's this about?" I asked, cutting straight to the point.

Ram Uncle leaned forward, his expression serious. "You know we've been planning the resort expansion for a while now. The land I need for it belongs to Mr. Gupta here. He's willing to sell it, but there's a condition."

My brows furrowed. "Condition? What condition?"

Mr. Gupta spoke for the first time, his voice calm but resolute. "I'll sell the land, Mr. Mehra, but only if you marry my granddaughter."

I stared at him, stunned. For a moment, I wondered if this was some sort of joke. "Excuse me?"

"You heard him," Ram Uncle interjected. "He's serious, Veer. His granddaughter, Tara, is the only family he truly has, and he's worried about her future."

"I don't even know her," I said, my tone incredulous. "Why would you suggest something like this?"

Mr. Gupta sighed, his expression softening. "Let me explain, Mr. Mehra. My granddaughter, Tara, is a good woman—a kind, intelligent, hardworking young lady. But her life has not been easy. She lost her parents at a young age and has been living with her uncle and aunt since. They... are not good people."

He paused, his hands trembling slightly as he clasped them together on the table. "They treat her like a burden, and now they're trying to force her to marry a man named Sameer—a vile drunkard who is unfit for any decent woman. I'm an old man, and I don't know how much time I have left. I need to ensure Tara is safe and cared for after I'm gone."

His voice wavered as he continued. "Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Mehra. I know you are a man of honor, despite what others might say. I believe you could provide Tara with the stability and security she deserves. And I'm willing to give up my land to ensure her happiness."

I leaned back in my chair, processing his words. This wasn't just a business deal—it was a plea for help. But it wasn't as simple as he was making it sound. Marriage? To a woman I had never met? It was absurd.

"Veer," Ram Uncle said, his voice calm but firm, "I know this is a lot to take in. But think about it. The land is crucial for the resort, and you could change this girl's life. You're not exactly looking for love, are you?"

I shot him a sharp look, but he didn't flinch.

"This is not about love," Mr. Gupta said. "This is about giving Tara a chance at a better life. A life away from her uncle, her aunt, and that man."

I didn't respond immediately, my mind racing with thoughts. On one hand, this felt manipulative, even absurd. Marriage was not something I had ever given serious thought to, and the idea of marrying a stranger for a business deal seemed preposterous.

But on the other hand, there was something in Mr. Gupta's eyes—a mix of desperation and hope—that struck a chord in me. It reminded me of my own grandfather, long gone, who had fought to ensure I had a chance at a good life after my parents' death.

And then there was the part of me that couldn't ignore the practicality of it. The land was important, and Tara's situation sounded genuinely dire.

"I need time to think about this," I finally said, my voice measured.

"Of course," Mr. Gupta said with a nod. "Take all the time you need. But please... consider it carefully."

As I left the restaurant that evening, I couldn't shake the feeling that my life was about to take an unexpected turn—one I wasn't sure I was ready for.