A Glimpse of the Past

It had been two weeks since Ayush started working under Arnav. And while he still despised his brother’s methods, something strange was happening—he was changing.

He no longer arrived late. He no longer complained. And, most surprisingly, he had started to understand Arnav.

Not that he’d ever admit it.

"Busy?" Anirudh’s voice broke through Ayush’s thoughts as he sat in the Oberoi study, drowning in financial reports.

"Always," Ayush muttered, rubbing his temples. "How the hell does Arnav do this every day?"

Anirudh smirked. "Now you understand why he’s the way he is?"

Ayush groaned. "Don’t start."

But he did understand. More than ever.

Arnav wasn’t just a dictator—he was a man who carried an entire empire on his back. Every decision he made had consequences, and he had no room for mistakes.

But what haunted Ayush more than anything was a question he had never dared to ask—when had Arnav stopped being a brother and become a ruler?

And why?

The Breaking of the King

That night, Ayush found his answer.

Unable to sleep, he wandered into Arnav’s office. He expected his brother to be working late as usual.

But what he saw froze him.

Arnav was sitting at his desk, his head in his hands. The man who never broke, never faltered—looked utterly exhausted.

Ayush had never seen him like this.

For a moment, he considered leaving. But something stopped him.

"Hey…" Ayush’s voice was hesitant.

Arnav immediately straightened, his usual cold mask slipping back in place. "What do you want?"

Ayush hesitated. "I—uh… just wanted to ask something."

Arnav sighed. "Make it quick."

Ayush stepped forward. "Why are you like this?"

Arnav stiffened. "Like what?"

"A dictator," Ayush said bluntly. "Why do you run this family like a company? Why do you act like we’re employees instead of brothers?"

For a long moment, Arnav said nothing. Then, in a voice so low it was almost a whisper, he said—

"Because someone had to."

Ayush frowned. "What do you mean?"

Arnav’s eyes met his, and for the first time, Ayush saw something raw—something broken.

"Do you even remember our parents?" Arnav asked.

Ayush blinked, caught off guard. "Of course, I—" He stopped.

Because the truth was… he didn’t. Not the way Arnav did.

Their parents had died when Ayush was young. Aryan and Avni had barely been old enough to understand loss. But Arnav? Arnav had been old enough to carry it.

"You don’t remember what it was like," Arnav said quietly. "When they died, the world didn’t stop for us. The company was drowning, our relatives were circling like vultures, and everyone expected us to fail."

Ayush swallowed hard. He had never thought about it that way.

"I had two choices," Arnav continued. "Let everything fall apart—or become someone strong enough to hold it together."

Ayush exhaled shakily. "And that’s why you became this… this machine?"

Arnav’s expression was unreadable. "If that’s what it took to protect this family—yes."

Silence stretched between them.

For the first time, Ayush saw not the dictator, but the man underneath.

"You’re an idiot," Ayush muttered finally.

Arnav raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"You didn’t have to do it alone," Ayush said, his voice softer now. "We’re your brothers, not just your responsibility."

Something flickered in Arnav’s eyes, but it was gone before Ayush could understand it.

"Go to bed, Ayush," Arnav said simply, turning back to his work.

Ayush sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, yeah… dictator."

But this time, there was no bitterness in the word.

This time, for the first time—he understood.