Abhimanyu, a runaway who fled the hellish environment his father created, has spent a decade navigating life's uncertainties through a world of gambling. Alone and drifting through the streets of Lucknow, everything changes when he encounters Roop...
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A/N: Hello, my Gems! I am taking a break till 7th of June because of my final exams. So, unfortunately I will not be able to give you an update till then. I promise to update the story after 7th of June. I'm very sorry for the inconvenience as you all will have to wait this long :")
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Aryan Raichand.
The younger cousin of Abhimanyu Raichand, nephew of the leading tycoon Dilraaj Raichand, and son of Manmeet Raichand, was the designated heir to the Raichand empire.
However, Aryan harbored no desire for this inheritance. He yearned for his beloved Abhimanyu bhai to be the successor, content to work under his idol's guidance. His devotion to Abhimanyu bordered on worship.
Abhimanyu, though Aryan believed him to be so, was hardly an ideal heir. Aryan would gladly endure his father's beatings for refusing to take Abhimanyu's place. Manmeet Raichand, ever resentful of his older brother Dilraaj, coveted the entire empire for himself. However, being the younger sibling, the position was out of reach. Abhimanyu's consistent rejections for being the heir sparked a glimmer of hope in Manmeet. Perhaps, with Aryan as heir, the empire could ultimately be his.
Despite his shortcomings, Aryan possessed a far greater aptitude for managing the Raichand empire than Abhimanyu. Yet, Abhimanyu remained Aryan's Achilles' heel. Manmeet couldn't comprehend the source of this blind devotion. What, in his eyes, made the "incompetent brat" so worthy of Aryan's unwavering admiration? After all, even Dilraaj saw Abhimanyu as incapable of handling the empire.
"Abhimanyu...bhai," the name tumbled out of Aryan's lips in a shaky whisper. A beat of shocked silence stretched between them. Their eyes met, and for a fleeting moment, a spark of recognition flickered in Abhimanyu's gaze. But just as quickly, a mask of indifference settled back over his features.
Before Aryan could process the surreal scene unfolding before him, his legs propelled him forward. "Bhai!" he cried out, the word laced with relief and a touch of desperation. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly, and grasped Abhimanyu's shoulder. The familiar warmth sent a wave of emotions crashing over him – a mix of joy at finding his idol and confusion at Abhimanyu's behavior.
"You got the wrong person," Abhimanyu replied, his voice a low monotone that sent shivers down Aryan's spine. It was the voice he knew so well, the voice that commanded his unwavering devotion. But this time, it lacked its usual warmth, replaced by a chilling coldness.
Aryan's grip tightened on Abhimanyu's shoulder. Denial flickered in his eyes. "No, Bhai," he pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. "It's me, Aryan. Don't you recognize me?" A hint of panic crept into his voice. This wasn't the reunion he'd dreamt of. Some might even misunderstand Aryan's devotion with a brother complex.
Abhimanyu remained impassive, his gaze fixed on a point beyond Aryan's shoulder. "Bhai, please come back home! You are needed there," Aryan called out, his voice cracking with urgency. He knew something was terribly wrong. The stoic shell Abhimanyu wore was a stark contrast to the playful, charismatic figure he worshipped. But before Aryan could plead further, Abhimanyu shoved him away with a surprising amount of force.
