Prologue

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The early morning sun filtered through the sprawling glass windows of the Mehra mansion, casting a warm golden hue over the polished marble floors. Silence hung in the air, broken only by the distant hum of traffic from the city below. In a room on the second floor, Aarav Mehra stood by the window, his sharp hazel eyes—vibrant yet guarded—reflecting the rising light. His chestnut curls, unruly as ever, framed his face, a striking contrast to the calm exterior he wore as effortlessly as the tailored suits in his wardrobe.

The door creaked open behind him. "You're up early, even for you," came Vivaan’s soft voice, more an observation than a question. Aarav turned, meeting his brother's gaze—those familiar hazel-grey eyes that were gentler, more contemplative. Unlike Aarav’s wild curls, Vivaan’s hair was sleek and straight, falling neatly to the side, as if it mirrored the order he found in his life as a surgeon.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Aarav replied, his voice roughened by the exhaustion he didn’t bother to hide from Vivaan. “Too much on my mind.” He shrugged, turning back to the city view that sprawled out beneath him.

Vivaan stepped further into the room, a small, concerned frown appearing on his face. "It’s your heart, isn’t it?" he asked quietly, his tone devoid of accusation, but filled with a knowing that only he could have. "You’ve been pushing yourself again, Aarav."

Aarav didn’t answer immediately. His eyes tracked a bird as it flew across the horizon, disappearing into the haze of the waking city. "The company doesn’t run itself, Vivaan," he finally muttered, shaking his head. "There’s no time to rest."

Vivaan moved closer, his presence a calming counterpoint to Aarav’s restless energy. "There won’t be a company to run if you collapse in the boardroom one day," he said, his voice firmer now. "You need to slow down. Let me handle things for a while. The surgery—"

“No.” Aarav cut him off, his voice sharp but weary. He turned to face Vivaan fully, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not some patient in need of saving, Vivaan. I’m fine. We’ve been through this.”

For a moment, silence settled between them, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy. Vivaan studied his brother’s face, seeing the lines of stress etched into his features, the slight paleness of his skin. Despite their identical birth, they had always been worlds apart. Aarav, with his fire and determination, had taken the reins of their family empire, while Vivaan had chosen a quieter, more personal path—healing others, saving lives, always in Aarav’s shadow.

"You’re not invincible, Aarav," Vivaan said softly, his eyes filled with both frustration and concern. "I know you hate asking for help, but I’m your brother. You don’t have to do this alone."

Aarav’s jaw tightened. He hated these moments—the ones where Vivaan saw too much, where the wall he’d built around himself cracked, even if only for a second. He ran a hand through his curls, exhaling sharply. "I’m fine, Vivaan," he repeated, though the words sounded hollow now, even to him. "I’ll handle it."

Vivaan gave a slight nod, though the look in his eyes remained unconvinced. He knew Aarav too well—knew how he buried his pain under layers of responsibility and pride. But pushing him now would do no good. He would wait, watch, and be there when the inevitable storm hit.

Before Vivaan could say more, Aarav forced a small, tired smile. "What about you? Early morning shift at the hospital?"

Vivaan’s expression softened, the tension between them ebbing. "Yes, another long day ahead. Cardiology rounds, and then a couple of surgeries." He paused, eyes narrowing slightly. "Don’t think you’re off the hook, though. We’ll talk later."

Aarav chuckled, a low sound that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Always the doctor, aren’t you?"

"And always the stubborn one, aren’t you?" Vivaan countered, a smile tugging at his lips. It was the easy banter they had shared since childhood, one of the few constants in their complicated lives.

Vivaan started to leave but paused at the door, turning back. "Just… take care of yourself, Aarav. Don’t make me lose another patient."

Aarav’s smile faded slightly at the words, and for a brief moment, he looked like he wanted to say something more—something deeper—but instead, he simply nodded. "Go save lives, Dr. Mehra. I’ll be fine."

Vivaan’s eyes lingered on his brother for a moment longer before he turned and left, the door clicking softly behind him. Aarav remained by the window, watching the city as it came to life beneath him. He pressed a hand to his chest, where his heart beat faintly beneath his skin—a fragile, relentless reminder of time slipping through his fingers.

But there was no room for weakness. Not for him. Not now.

The world outside waited, and so did the weight of the legacy he couldn’t afford to lose.

---To Be Continued

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