Author's Pov:

The city never sleeps, and neither does Reyan Singh Mewar. At thirty-two, he stands at the top of his empire—six foot two, broad-shouldered, sharp-jawed, the kind of man who commands a room without trying. His hazel eyes, cool and watchful, miss nothing. Business tycoon, heir to generational wealth, master of his time and discipline—his name carries weight in boardrooms and whispers outside of them.

Yet beyond the polished glass towers and the empire his family built long before him, Reyan remains a man apart. To the world, he is success personified—authoritative, competitive, feared, and respected. But beneath that exterior lies a distance no one crosses. His voice is calm, his orders final, and once his mind is made, no one dares to change it. Everyone knows the rule—be good to him, and he is good to you. Betray him, and he will never forgive.

He is close only to one man—his grandfather. The elder's words are the only ones Reyan still listens to, the only presence that bridges the loneliness he never admits to. His parents love him, his siblings and cousins admire him, but the bond is fractured, muted by time and absence. His father had always been consumed by business, his mother by philanthropy and family duties, his siblings by their own paths. Reyan never blames them, but the neglect carved a hollow in him that no amount of wealth could fill.

He has friends, but most came chasing his money and influence. He has met women—too many drawn not to him, but to the surname he carries. Once, during his university years abroad, he thought differently. At twenty, he believed a girl's affection was genuine. But the truth was cruel—it was never about him, only about what he could offer. Since then, he has locked that part of himself away. No trust. No love. No chances.

Now, he pours himself into work, into discipline, into perfection. Fitness, routine, endless hours at the desk. He reads, he observes, he judges character with unnerving accuracy. In business, he wins because he knows people better than they know themselves. He is the man competitors fear to cross and allies fight to keep close.

And yet... in the privacy of his room, when the lights dim and the city outside softens into quiet, a different truth hums inside him. He once dreamed of a simple happiness—of a wife who would love him, listen to him, laugh with him. Of children, especially a daughter, whom he could protect and adore with all the care he never received. He dreamed of travels not for business but for joy, of ordinary days filled with small gestures of respect, love, and companionship. He dreamed of giving someone everything.

But dreams are dangerous for a man who no longer trusts. So he silences them.

Still, when his grandfather asks him to consider marriage, Reyan listens. For his family's sake, he tells himself, he will meet the girl. He does not expect love anymore, not from destiny. He asks for only two things—respect and loyalty. That will be enough. In return, he will fulfill his duty, protect her, care for her. Nothing more, nothing less.

As he leans back against the leather chair in his study, city lights spilling through the tall glass windows, Reyan exhales slowly. His empire is secure. His family is proud. His time is tightly bound. And yet, a question lingers in the quiet, one he never voices aloud—will this be enough for a life?

With that thought, Reyan closes the book in his hands, switches off the lamp, and lets the silence settle. Sleep comes reluctantly, but when it does, it carries him not into rest, but into the weight of dreams he has long forbidden himself.

Reyan wakes before dawn, earlier than usual. The clock on his bedside table reads 3:07 a.m., but his mind refuses to rest. Normally, he rises at four, disciplined to the minute. Today, the thoughts pressing against his chest leave him no choice.

Marriage. The word circles his mind like a persistent echo. At thirty-two, he cannot ignore it anymore. Not for himself alone—but for the life he quietly longs for. Children. His own children. A family where laughter fills the silence that has followed him all these years. He thinks of Saumya's little girl, Vidhi, only nine months old. Every time he holds her, something inside him stirs—a warmth he does not know how to name, but one he knows he craves.

He has always loved children. Even as a boy, he had cared for his younger siblings, Neil and Saumya, and his cousins, Vihan and Vaidehi, with a protective instinct far beyond his years. It was natural for him, almost fatherly. And now, when he imagines the future, the image is clear: a daughter of his own. Someone he can love fiercely, protect without hesitation, give the kind of childhood he never had.

Reyan exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair as the decision hardens inside him. Enough waiting. Enough silence. If he finds a girl who is loyal and respectful, he will marry her. That much is certain. He does not need romance or poetry; he does not even dare hope for love. But loyalty and respect—those are enough. With that foundation, he can build the rest.

He sets himself a deadline, as he always does. Six days. If within that time he meets someone who fits, then fate has spoken. If not, he will tell his family to search for him. He will not waste any more time.

The decision brings no relief, only a heavy kind of clarity. He pushes back the covers, rising from bed with the same resolve he brings to business. The gym awaits. If his thoughts refuse to leave him, he will drown them in the discipline of sweat and iron.

And so, as the city outside still sleeps, Reyan Singh Mewar begins another day—his mind restless, his heart guarded, yet his path, for the first time in years, beginning to shift.

***