The moment the last of the guests drifted out of the ballroom, the grandeur of the Rathore mansion felt strangely quiet. The chandeliers still bathed the hall in golden light, but the laughter and clinking glasses had faded, leaving behind an odd tension none of the brothers could shake.

Aarav didn't speak at first. He simply walked toward the private lounge inside the hall, loosening his black  collar, the weight of responsibility etched into the sharp lines of his face. Advik and Aryan followed behind with their usual stride—confident, powerful, but strangely subdued tonight. Abeer and Ayan trailed last, whispering amongst themselves.