Demon's Physco obsession

Bonus chapter: The Gentle Authority

The clatter of silverware continued, but the air in the dining hall shifted as the topic turned to the upcoming calendar.

"Nineteenth," Adhiraaj remarked, his voice cutting through the noise with practiced authority. "It's a significant milestone, Aarav. We should host the board and the primary investors at the Pune flagship. A black-tie event to formally introduce your expanded oversight of the logistics division."

Aarav nodded, his expression smoothing into a mask of professional cool. "I agree, Baba. Minimalist decor, high security, and a strictly curated guest list. No fluff. I want the focus on the quarterly projections, not the catering."

"I was thinking more along the lines of a 'Midnight Frost' theme," Arjun added, tapping his chin. "Silver accents, blue LED highlights. Sophisticated. Subtle."

"BORING!"

The screech came from the end of the table. Aanya slammed her sipper cup down like a gavel.

"It's a birthday, not a funeral for a robot!" she declared, her dark eyes flashing with that unmistakable Shakuntala-esque fire. "I've already talked to my friends—Sana and Mira—and we've decided. It needs to be the 'Enchanted Crystal Kingdom' theme."

Aarav's fork paused mid-air. He slowly turned his head toward his eight-year-old sister. "The what?"

"Fairy lights!" Aanya chirped, counting off on her sticky fingers. "Pink smoke machines. Life-sized unicorn statues at the entrance. And everyone has to wear glitter capes. I've already sent the Pinterest board to the hotel's event manager."

Vihaan snorted so hard his yogurt went flying. "Glitter capes? Aarav in a glitter cape? I will pay any amount of money to see this. I'll even live-stream it to the Mumbai underworld."

Aarav's grip on his butter knife tightened. He could feel a vein beginning to throb in his temple—the same one that usually signaled a warehouse was about to be burned down. "Aanya, this is a Vashisth Group corporate-social event. It is for investors, not for seven-year-olds with a sugar rush. There will be no unicorns."

"Actually," Ved interjected, leaning back with a look of pure, unadulterated mischief. "The 'Enchanted Kingdom' idea has merit. It shows... versatility. A softer side of the brand. Plus, Aanya's friends' parents are some of our biggest local stakeholders. You wouldn't want to disappoint the 'Unicorn Lobby,' would you, Aarav?"

"Mama, don't encourage her," Aarav hissed, his voice dropping into that dangerous, low register. "I am nineteen. I am not celebrating my adulthood surrounded by pink smoke and glitter."

Aanya stuck her tongue out. "Too late! I told the manager if he didn't listen to me, I'd tell Baba he was stealing the fancy napkins. He's already ordering the butterfly centerpieces."

Aarav's chair scraped the floor. The "animal" from the previous night's slaughter flickered in his eyes for a split second—a predatory, cold heat. He opened his mouth to deliver a retort that would likely send Aanya into a week-long timeout.

But then, he felt a soft, warm hand rest on his forearm.

Ankita didn't say anything. She just nudged a piece of paratha toward him, her gaze calm and grounding. The touch acted like a circuit breaker. The murderous tension evaporated, replaced by the crushing weight of being the "good son" in front of his mother.

Aarav forced a sharp intake of breath, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the table, but he stayed seated.

"Fine," he gritted out through a forced, terrifyingly stiff smile. "We will find a... compromise."
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The "compromise" turned out to be a surreal collision of high-stakes corporate power and a child's fever dream.