𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲

Chapter 1

The first tendrils of dawn bled through the smog-veiled Delhi skyline, painting the high-rises of their mansion in hues of bruised orange and dusty rose. Inside, in a sprawling home office overlooking this urban jungle, Rajveer Krishnappa Bairya sat hunched over his mahogany desk, a symphony of clinking ice cubes the only soundtrack to the city awakening. Sleep was a luxury he couldn't afford. Not when Bairya Industries, the empire he'd built from his grandfather's legacy, teetered on the precipice of a billion-dollar deal.

The air-conditioning hummed, a futile attempt to counter the muggy pre-dawn heat. Rajveer's dark hair, usually meticulously styled, was a mess, strands escaping the confines of his usual gelled perfection. His typically sharp eyes, the color of melted chocolate, were shadowed by fatigue. Yet, there was a steely glint in them, a determination honed by years of ruthless business dealings and a childhood spent navigating the treacherous alleys of ambition.

He scanned the final revised contract proposal, the words blurring into a meaningless dance across the page. Fatigue gnawed at him, but even a single night's rest felt like a betrayal. His world, his success, was a relentless engine that demanded constant fuel - in this case, his unwavering focus.

The shrill ring of his office phone jolted him from his concentration. He glanced at the clock – 4:15 AM. It was always someone. A frantic investor seeking reassurance, a jittery board member with last-minute concerns. This time, however, it was Manveer, his younger brother.

"Manveer? It's not even sunrise yet," Rajveer answered, his voice rough with disuse.

"Sorry, Bhai," came the muffled response. "But Nani... she's been asking for you all night."

A knot formed in Rajveer's stomach. Nani, his grandmother, was the heart of their small family, the one constant through the years of relentless expansion and tireless work. The worry in Manveer's voice was a stark reminder of his neglect.

"I'll be up soon, tell her I'll be there in a few minutes."

He hung up, the echo of Manveer's worry clinging to the receiver. Shame flickered within him, a flicker he quickly pushed down. There was no time for sentimentality, not when the Bairya name hung in the balance. He finished reviewing the contract, his edits precise and merciless. Satisfied, he sent it off with a curt email, the digital ping echoing the hollowness in his chest.

Rising from his chair, Rajveer stretched, popping his knuckles one by one. The cityscape outside had fully awakened, a chaotic symphony of honking horns and distant prayers echoing up from the ancient temples nestled amongst the steel giants. With a sigh, he walked towards his bedroom, a Spartan space dominated by a king-sized bed that seemed to mock his lack of sleep.

A framed portrait on his bedside table caught his eye. It was Nani, her face etched with age lines, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. She stood amidst a sprawling field of sunflowers, her laughter echoing in the silent room. Rajveer reached out, a faint smile tugging at his lips. The sunflowers were her sanctuary, a place she escaped to when the city became too much. He hadn't visited in months.

His phone buzzed again, this time with a news alert – "Bairya Industries Stock Price Soars on Acquisition Rumors." A tight smile stretched across his face. Success, always success. It was the balm he used to soothe the nagging guilt, the constant feeling that he was failing his family somewhere along the way.

He donned a crisp white shirt and a charcoal suit, the uniform of his relentless ambition. As he entered the living room of their sprawling mansion, Manveer sat huddled on the couch, his usually vibrant eyes dull with worry. A frail figure lay on the plush carpet, covered in a thin blanket. It was Nani, her weathered face creased with pain.