Bossing Her || 18+

4 || His Family

After finishing the meeting successfully, Vikram drove home in silence, his mind replaying every moment from earlier that day. The frustration that had built up inside him was like a ticking bomb, ready to explode. He needed to calm down, but thoughts of Amaira's game still consumed him. The way she'd pushed him to the edge, the way she made him feel powerless, infuriated him beyond measure.

When Vikram finally arrived home, the familiar sight of the large, elegant Rathore mansion greeted him. It was an imposing structure, modern yet traditional, with sprawling gardens and enough space for the entire extended family to live comfortably. Inside, the atmosphere was always lively, a reflection of the close-knit bond that held them all together.

Vikram stepped out of his car, the soft glow of the driveway lights casting long shadows against the house's familiar facade. Home, where things were supposed to make sense, where he wasn't consumed by the chaos and frustration of the outside world. Today, however, even that comfort felt like a distant reality. His meeting had gone as well as it could have, considering the mess of emotions Amaira had thrown him into earlier. He still couldn't get the video call out of his mind, how she'd been sitting at his desk, how she'd taunted him in ways that were both frustrating and intoxicating.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed those thoughts aside as he stepped into the house. The warmth of the living room enveloped him like a blanket, the familiar sounds of his family chatting and laughing reaching his ears before he saw them.

His younger sister and the youngest verma, Aarohi, a cheerful and always joyous nineteen years old gal, was the first to notice him as she sat cross-legged on the living room floor, her phone in one hand, a plate of fruit in the other. She looked up, her eyes narrowing with concern when she saw his tired expression.

"Bhai," she said, standing up quickly. "You look like you just went ten rounds with Mike Tyson. Kya hua? Aap itne stressed kyun lag rahe ho?" (What happened? Why do you look so stressed?)

Before Vikram could respond, his mother Vidya, appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. "Arre, Vikram beta! Tum aa gaye? Tumhari meeting kaisa rahi? Aaj kuch thake hue lag rahe ho." (Oh, Vikram, you're home! How was your meeting? You look a bit tired today.)

Vikram forced a smile, walking into the living room as he shrugged off his jacket. "Bas thoda sa stressful day tha, Maa. Kuch nahi, handle ho gaya." (Just a little stressful day, Maa. Nothing, it's handled.)

Vikrant, his elder brother by two years, looked up from the couch, his arms casually draped over the backrest. Naina sat beside him, curled up comfortably with a book in her lap. "Bhai, itna stressed kaun hota hai ek meeting ke baad? Yahan kuch aur story lag rahi hai." (Who gets this stressed after just a meeting? It seems like there's more to the story.)

"Kaam ka pressure hoga," Avyansh, a twenty six years old guy, the younger brother of Vikram and the second youngest Verma, chimed in from the dining table, just then Aarohi spoke, flashing a mischievous grin. "Ya phir kaam ke saath koi aur pressure bhi hai?" (Maybe it's work pressure, or is there some other pressure?)

Dadi, Varinda Verma, who was sitting by the window, her knitting needles clicking rhythmically, raised her head to look at Vikram. Her voice was gentle, but her words carried weight. "Beta, jitna kaam ko leke pareshaan rahoge, utni zyada takleef milegi. Tumhari umar mein toh hum mast rehte the. Arre, mujhe yaad hai jab humare zamane mein..." (Son, the more you worry about work, the more trouble you'll have. At your age, we used to live carefree. I remember back in our day...)

Vikram's lips quirked upward in a small smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. As much as he appreciated Dadi's wisdom, it wasn't going to solve the problem swirling in his head. He dropped down on the couch with a heavy sigh, his gaze unfocused as his family's chatter continued around him.