“Shauna.” Her grandfather’s voice cut through hers with quiet command. “Do not use that tone with me or such foul words while talking to me. Especially not about him.”
Shauna’s heart sank. Her grandfather never raised his voice at her. Never even came close. And now he was reprimanding her because ofhim.
“Sorry.” She swallowed, trying to rein in the storm twisting inside her. “But he?—”
“There is more you need to understand,” he said gently, though his tone remained firm. He suddenly looked older … like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. “This is not a decision made overnight. Sehgal Media is Akash’s destiny. It always has been.”
Shauna stared at him, disbelief clashing with panic. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”
“How much do you know about Sehgal Media’s history?”
She frowned. “I only know you took it over from your friend after his death. I don’t recall his name.”
“His name was Dhiraj Mishra,” he said with a smile, looking into the distance. “He was my closest friend, like a brother to me. We’d been together since our school days. While Dhiraj was very successful in business, his personal life was difficult. His wife passed away when their daughter was still very young, and though he loved the child deeply, his work kept him constantly on the move. Madhu grew up mostly in the care of nannies. She was a sweet girl, but she was starved for affection. When she was twenty, she met a man—the wrong kind of man—who filled her head with dreams of love and happiness. Longing to be loved and craving attention, she fell for him and married him, even though her father begged her not to.”
He sighed. “The man was a social climber who believed that marrying the only daughter of a wealthy businessman would give him quick money and an easy life. But Dhiraj Mishra wasn’t someone who could be easily used. He publicly distanced himself from his daughter and refused to stay in contact with her after the marriage.”
Her grandfather paused, staring at nothing, as if lost in the past. Shauna watched him closely, unable to understand why any of this mattered.
She shifted, leaning forward. “I’m not sure I understand the relevance of this story, Grandfather.”
His eyes settled on her. “The man Madhu Mishra married was Keval Karia.”
Karia.
Her spine stiffened and her breath caught midway as the pieces snapped together with startling clarity. A cold dread unfolded in her chest, tightening with every passing second as the truth sank in.
“He was Akash and Keya’s father,” her grandfather said, crushing the last sliver of doubt she might have held.
Her heartbeat quickened. She sat back slowly, the revelation hitting her like a blow she wasn’t prepared for. This story wasn’t random. It wasn’t irrelevant. It wasAkash’sstory—his family, his past. One she hadn’t known until now.
But what did this mean for her? For him?
Her grandfather continued. “Soon after her marriage, Madhu realized she’d made a terrible mistake. But it was a mistake she was too weak to undo. As they grew up, both Akash and Keya watched their father waste every penny he earned on alcohol, women, and gambling. Whenever debts caught up with him, he dragged the family from one city to another, changing jobs as often as he changed excuses. He was a violent husband and a terrible father. Their mother endured it all in silence until the day she died. Akash was only ten.”
She gasped. He’d been ten? Akash had been ten when his mother died. And his father… Oh God. Sadness pressed against her ribs. What all horrors had he faced at such a young age? She couldn’t reconcile the strong, composed, confident man she knew with the boy who must have endured so much instability,volatility, and possible violence while growing up. Despite her feelings toward him, she felt terribly sorry for what he’d been through.
Her grandfather’s gaze drifted into the distance again.
“And then what happened?” she prompted.
“After their mother’s death, their father handed custody of the children over to their grandfather, Dhiraj Mishra, in exchange for money, and disappeared. They’ve never heard from him again. Thank God for that.”
“He sold his children?” Shauna said, aghast. “What an awful man.”
“He truly was awful,” Janak concurred. “But I’m glad he wasn’t a part of their lives anymore.” He smiled, his voice softening as he spoke. “I still remember the first time I met Akash. Dhiraj had called me right after the children came into his care. When I arrived, Akash was standing in the doorway beside Keya. This small boy—just ten—was staring at me like he was ready to take on the world if he had to. Chin lifted, shoulders squared, one arm slightly in front of his sister. He was so defiant, so fierce, and so protective. As if daring anyone to even think of hurting his sister.”
Shauna found herself smiling, the image forming easily in her mind. Even now, he was like this. Fierce, determined, and so protective of those he loved. She’d seen him interact with Keya and Keya’s children. She’d always known without a doubt that he’d do anything for them.
“I encouraged Dhiraj to send the children to the same boarding school Sheena was attending at the time,” her grandfather continued. “And that was the best thing that could have happened to those two lost children. Keya met Sheena and Raashi there, and the three of them became friends for life.” He paused before adding, “And Akash… he found his own circle too. Friends like Jiya and Vir, who stood by him, pushed him, andbelieved in him. They became his anchor, his support system, his family in every way that mattered. Those friendships shaped him and helped him grow into the man he is today.”
A flicker of sadness crept into her heart for him. She brushed it away. She had no business thinking about him or feeling anything for him. Besides, she hated him, remember? Yes, she absolutely despised him.
A sudden thought struck her. It was too ridiculous to even consider, yet she had to voice it.
She looked at her grandfather. “Do you feel sorry for Akash because he had such a rough childhood? Is that why you’re handing the reins of the business over to him?”
He shot her a sharp, unimpressed glare. “Don’t be absurd. As if I’d make a decision like this out of whim or sentiment.”
