Wounded Heart ✔

Chapter - 2

Amna Mansion stood like a living testament to power and legacy—its ivory walls glowing under the soft morning sun, manicured lawns dotted with fountains, and chandeliers glittering inside the massive halls. Today, however, the air inside buzzed differently—not just with luxury, but with anticipation. Every corridor was alive with footsteps, hurried whispers of staff, and the occasional click of cameras being set into place.

For the first time in decades, the Khurana and Kapoor families—two dynasties known for their grandeur, wealth, and untouchable reputation—had opened their doors to the outside world. An exclusive television interview was about to be broadcasted, one that promised to give the people of Kolkata a glimpse into the lives of those who had ruled the city's business and cultural circles from behind guarded gates.

The grand living room of Amna Mansion was transformed into a stage of elegance. Gold-and-cream drapes framed tall windows, sunlight pouring in like a spotlight on the two families seated on velvet sofas. They looked every bit the royalty they were whispered to be—dignified, graceful, and untouchable. Yet beneath the poised smiles lingered a subtle tension, as though each of them knew that once the veil of secrecy was lifted, there would be no turning back.

A young reporter, Priyal from CVT Channel, stepped forward with her mic, her professionalism holding steady though her eyes betrayed awe at the sight before her. Clearing her throat softly, she began.

"Good morning, Mr. Khurana and Mr. Kapoor. I'm Priyal, representing CVT Channel, and it is truly an honor to be here today."

Arnav Raj Khurana, the elder and commanding head of the Khurana family, returned her greeting with calm authority.
"Good morning, Ms. Priyal. It is indeed a fine morning to meet you."

Priyal smiled, glancing at her notes though her excitement was palpable. "The pleasure is ours, sir. The people of Kolkata have long admired both the Khurana and Kapoor families for your grandeur, your charity, and your unrivaled business empires. But what has always remained a mystery are your children—the heirs of your legacies. Until now, they have been faces unseen, names unspoken. Today, our viewers are honored to finally be introduced to the next generation."

Arnav's lips curved faintly, though his eyes remained sharp. "We are private people, Ms. Priyal. For years we chose to shield our children—not from love, but from the chaos of the outside world."

Aakash Kapoor, seated with quiet dignity, added, "With the threats that accompany power, it was safer to let them have a peaceful childhood away from media glare and the venom of rivals. They deserved normalcy, even if we could not afford it for ourselves."

The explanation silenced the murmurs in the room, leaving only admiration in its wake.

"Understandable, sir," Priyal said respectfully, before leaning forward. "Then, if we may—could you introduce your families to us and our viewers?"

Arnav nodded and took the lead, his tone carrying both pride and gravity as he gestured toward his loved ones.
"Well, as you know, I am Arnav Raj Khurana. Beside me is my wife, my partner, my strength—Khushi Khurana. Beside her, my mother, Pooja Khurana, and beside her, my father, Raj Khurana. Next is my younger brother, Yashwanth Raj Khurana, and his wife, my sister-in-law, Aarti Yashwanth Khurana.

Behind us," his gaze shifted, "stand the heirs of our family. In the black tuxedo is my elder son, Abhishek Arnav Khurana, the future torchbearer of our empire. Beside him is Laksh Yashwanth Khurana, my brother's son, proud and promising. And between them," his voice softened slightly, "is my daughter—Aashi Khurana, though today she is also known as Aashi Kapoor. This, Ms. Priyal, is my family."

The camera panned over each face, catching the refined poise in their smiles, the quiet pride in their eyes.

"And what of the Kapoors, Mr. Aakash?" Priyal asked, turning toward the second patriarch.