Rebuilding The Bridges of Relationships

(1) last wish

On the sacred banks of Kashi, where the evening aarti usually takes place, a corpse lay upon the pyre. It was surrounded by three youngsters, their faces expressionless, dressed in black suits that lent them the air of people who were never truly ordinary.

The man being cremated was not a stranger - he was their own blood. Ravi Rathore, the last surviving elder of the Rathore family, had now passed, leaving behind only silence.

The youngsters all stood still, as the girl proceeded to throw what looked like money in the fire. Following suit the other boy threw a gun, which was followed by the throwing of a crown by another boy.

The fire roared. The air grew heavier. Finally, one among them broke the silence.

??? 1

Your last wish, though you never told us...(painfully, with a dark chuckle)

？？？2

Thanks. Will you bless us from heaven? Or perhaps curse us from hell?

？？？3

Goodbye...(without emotion)

They stood, staring at the body as it turned to ash. Each collected a portion of the remains, separating them into two distinct urns, their hands trembling only slightly. Then, as tradition demanded, they washed their hands in the flowing waters of Kashi.

Before stepping into their cars, they looked once more at the ashes still scattered on the bank and thought, silently, in unison:

??? 1

Goodbye... until we meet again.

？？？2

Goodbye... until we meet again.

？？？3

Goodbye... until we meet again.

Without another word, they entered their cars and drove away toward a direction only they seemed to know.

let's do the introduction for now

Ravi Rathore Role: King of Rajasthan; CEO of Rathore Group of Companies Family: Wife (deceased), son & daughter-in-law (deceased), 3 grandchildren Traits: Intelligent, cunning, cold outside but deeply compassionate inside. Loved his family fiercely, especially grandchildren, though rarely showed it. Likes: Thrill sports, books on strategy/history, cooking, quiet family moments, traditions, sunsets. Dislikes: Harm to his family, dishonesty, betrayal, arrogance, laziness, neglect of values. Fate: Died under mysterious circumstances.

Siyara Rathore (29) Role: Heiress of Rathore Raj; CEO of Rathore Group; PhD in Business;SJD / LL.D. in law. Traits: Stunning, commanding, cold to outsiders but loyal and protective within. Master strategist, skilled hacker, racer, and leader. Took charge early to shield her brothers. Likes: Racing, reading, adventure, family time, cooking, traditions, hacking. Dislikes: Harm to family, betrayal, underestimation, gossip, hypocrisy.

Aarav Rathore (25) Role: Heir to tech branch; CFO; MBA, tech prodigy, doing PhD in Business Information Technology. Traits: Intelligent, curious, innovative, problem-solver. Charismatic but reserved. Fiercely protective of siblings. Loves puzzles, gadgets, hacking. Likes: Coding, robotics, AI, family, gaming, challenges. Dislikes: Misuse of tech, betrayal, harm to family, laziness, being underestimated.

Vivaan Rathore (23) Role: Youngest heir; future head of Rathore hospitals; aspiring neurosurgeon; doing MCh in neurosurgery Traits: Cold to outsiders, warm with family. Compassionate, detail-oriented, disciplined, academically gifted. Protected by siblings, playful yet focused. Likes: Medicine, family time, studying, racing, climbing, helping others. Dislikes: Harm to family, betrayal, being underestimated, negativity, distrustful outsiders.

this much for today

other characters will be introduced as they enter the chapter

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(2) heirs

The three cars glided through the narrow lanes of Kashi like silent predators. The locals, used to processions of pilgrims and mourners, paid no mind to the convoy. Yet, if anyone had looked closer, they might have noticed the steel behind the tinted windows, the tension in the way those inside sat.

Inside the first car, Siyara Rathore, the eldest, sat upright, her gaze sharp as the pyre’s last flames replayed in her mind. The money she had thrown into the fire wasn’t just paper—it was an oath. Wealth meant nothing without power. And now, with their grandfather gone, she knew the Rathores had to build a new throne. Her lips curved into the faintest smile. Tonight had been an ending. But it was also a beginning.

In the second car, Aarav Rathore, the second-born, leaned back, his jaw tight with unspoken fury. The gun he had thrown into the flames had been his protector, his shadow. Burning it meant letting go of his past—but it also meant choosing a new weapon for the wars to come. His hand tapped restlessly against his knee, already hungry for the battles ahead.

The third car carried Vivaan Rathore, the youngest of the bloodline. He stared out the window, lost in thought, his mind circling around the crown he had consigned to the fire. It had been more than a relic—it was a symbol of their grandfather’s legacy. By destroying it, he had vowed to rebuild in a different way, not through kingship, but through influence. His silence was deep, but his resolve even deeper.

The convoy finally came to a halt at a sprawling haveli on the outskirts of the city. The Rathore ancestral home—half palace, half fortress—stood against the night like a beast that refused to die, its darkened windows watching them approach.

The siblings entered through the massive gates, their footsteps echoing in unison. The air inside was thick with the weight of history—portraits of ancestors stared down at them from dusty walls, warriors and kings whose stories had long been buried beneath layers of betrayal and silence.

They gathered in the Durbar Hall, where once their grandfather had held meetings of power. Now it was only the three of them. The silence pressed heavily, until Siyara finally spoke.

Siyara Rathore[FL]

(calm, cutting)He’s gone. And with him, the last shield protecting us.

Aarav Rathore [FL younger brother]

(grimly)Or the last chain holding us back.

Vivaan Rathore [FL youngest brother]

(flatly)Whichever it is, we don’t have time. You know what his death means.

The words hung in the air. They all knew. With Ravi Rathore gone, vultures would circle. Old rivals, unfinished debts, broken alliances—every ghost of the Rathore legacy would return.

Aarav lit a cigarette, exhaling slowly.

Aarav Rathore [FL younger brother]

Then let them come. We’ll finish what he started.

Siyara’s eyes glittered in the dim light.

Siyara Rathore[FL]

No. We’ll start something entirely new.

And as if on cue, a knock thundered at the door of the haveli. Not gentle, not hesitant—a deliberate strike. The siblings exchanged glances. No words were needed.

Aarav stubbed out the cigarette. Vivaan reached for the dagger strapped to his ankle. Siyara’s smirk deepened.

The Rathores were no longer mourners.

They were heirs.

They were hunters.

And tonight, the game had just begun.

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the first knock

The knock at the haveli’s door echoed through the vast hall like a drumbeat of warning. It wasn’t polite. It wasn’t hesitant. It was a demand.

Siyara Rathore was the first to rise. Her heels clicked sharply on the marble floor, each step a statement of authority. She moved with the confidence of someone who had been raised to command, her presence filling the hall. She paused for a moment to glance at her brothers.

Aarav, the second-born, adjusted his jacket, jaw tight, eyes calculating every scenario in silence. His hand twitched as if ready to pull a weapon at any moment. His mind raced through possibilities—threat assessment, escape routes, countermeasures.

Vivaan, the youngest, was quiet, but his fingers brushed against the dagger at his ankle. Calm on the outside, alert on the inside—he had learned from years of observation to never underestimate an intruder, no matter how insignificant they might appear.

Siyara opened the doors. Three men stepped in, sharply dressed, their presence deliberate and unyielding. At the center was a man with a silver watch and eyes like steel. Behind him, two men flanked him, silent, shadows of authority.

？？？

The Rathores. Finally, without your grandfather to protect you.

Siyara’s smirk was dangerous, almost playful, but her eyes were sharp.

Siyara Rathore[FL]

Careful. Even lions leave behind cubs.❄❄❄

The man chuckled, a sound that carried arrogance and assumption. Aarav stepped forward, his calm precision cutting through the tension.

Aarav Rathore [FL younger brother]

State your purpose. Or leave before patience runs out. ❄❄❄

The leader’s eyes flicked toward Vivaan, and for a moment, the youngest Rathore met his gaze without flinching. Vivaan’s quiet presence seemed to thicken the air.

？？？

Business. Your grandfather owed debts—monetary, political, and… strategic. And with his passing, the responsibility transfers to you.

Vivaan’s voice was measured, almost clinical.

Aarav Rathore [FL younger brother]

And if debts are repaid in blood instead of coin?

The words fell like ice. The intruders exchanged subtle glances; the threat was unspoken, yet palpable.

Siyara closed the doors with a loud slam, leaving the intruders trapped in the foyer. Her smirk was sharp, deliberate—a warning and a promise.

Siyara Rathore[FL]

(calmly)You’ve underestimated us. That was your first mistake.

The intruders hesitated, then stepped back, realizing the Rathores were not ordinary heirs—they were predators in their own right, ready to strike. The leader signaled his men, and they retreated to a corner of the hall, lowering their weapons for the night. They wouldn’t sleep in peace—they knew the Rathores’ reach, and every creak of the haveli would feel like a threat. For a moment, the hall fell silent. The echoes of the knock, the tension, and the confrontation lingered like a shadow.

that's all for now

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