The sun had long dipped below the horizon by the time the black Ambassador turned off the main road and onto the narrow dirt lane that led back into Fatehpur Beri.

The village was wrapped in a sleepy hush now, oil lamps flickered faintly in courtyards, cows were being tied for the night, and the distant sound of temple bells floated through the cool winter air.

Jagdish sat silently in the back seat, his gaze fixed on the dark outlines of the fields outside. The road ahead was familiar now, but the reason for his return was not.

He was not here as an industrialist, nor as a negotiator. Tonight, he was here as something else entirely, a father with an idea that had begun as a faint thought and now refused to leave his mind.

“Sir,” Brijmohan said softly from the front seat, breaking the silence. “We’ll be at the Rajawat haveli in five minutes.”

Jagdish nodded without looking up. “Good. Stop right at the gate.”

The car rolled to a gentle halt outside the red sandstone haveli, its weathered arches glowing in the soft yellow light spilling from within.

Jagdish stepped out, the chill of the night brushing against his face, and for a moment, he simply stood there, looking at the place that had humbled him yesterday.

Inside, Naintara was arranging small earthen lamps near the Tulsi plant in the varanda, her dupatta pulled tightly over her shoulders against the cold. She hummed softly to herself, lost in the rhythm of the task until the sound of approaching footsteps made her freeze.

She turned and her brows frowned in confusion.

“Kaka ji…?” she whispered, almost not believing what she was seeing. “Aap…?”

Her voice trembled slightly with surprise. Of all the people she had expected at her door at this hour, General Jagdish Raichand was not one of them.

Before she could say anything more, the sound of footsteps echoed from the inner corridor. Kulbhushan Rajawat appeared at the doorway, his shawl draped loosely over his shoulders.

“Beta, who is it at this…” He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening slightly as they fell on the figure standing outside his gate. “General Raichand?”

For a heartbeat, silence settled between the two men, the kind of silence heavy with unspoken questions.

Kulbhushan recovered first, stepping closer, his tone polite but firm. “General Sahab, I believe I made my decision very clear yesterday morning. That decision has not changed and it never will.”

Jagdish offered a faint, reassuring smile. “I know, Mr. Rajawat. And I have not come to speak about land.”

Kulbhushan’s brows knit together. “Then…?”

“This time,” Jagdish said, his voice calm but carrying a weight that made the air still, “I have come to ask for something else. Something far more important than property or business.”

Kulbhushan stared at him, taken aback by the sudden gravity in his tone. “And what could that be?”

“May I come in?” Jagdish asked gently, his voice laced with the old-world courtesy that no man could refuse. “It’s a conversation best held inside, not at your doorstep.”

For a moment, Kulbhushan didn’t move. He looked from Jagdish to Naintara, who was still standing near the lamp-lit plant, confusion and curiosity swirling in her wide eyes.

Finally, with a slow exhale, he stepped aside and gestured towards the veranda.

“Of course Mr. Raichand,” he said quietly. “Please… come in.”

The night breeze carried the faint scent of jasmine from the courtyard as Jagdish stepped into the Rajawat haveli once more but this time, he was not a man seeking a deal.

The haveli’s drawing room looked different under the soft glow of evening lamps… warmer, more intimate, almost sacred. A faint chill floated in through the open jaali windows, carrying with it the distant hum of crickets and the sweet smell of freshly lit diyas.

Kulbhushan gestured politely toward the cushioned seat. “Please, sit, Mr. Raichand.”

“Thank you.” Jagdish took a seat, his posture as straight and composed as it had been in the army, but his eyes, those gave him away. There was a weight in them tonight that wasn’t there this morning.

Kulbhushan sat across from him. “Now, tell me. What is it that brings you back here at this hour, if not the land?”

Jagdish looked down for a moment, gathering his thoughts that had been swirling in his mind since the morning, then met the man’s gaze directly. “Yesterday, I came here as a businessman. Tonight… I come as a father.”

The older man’s brows knitted slightly. “A father?”

“Yes,” Jagdish said, his voice calm, deliberate. “Not long ago, I told you I understood what it means to build a legacy for your children…. something that truly belongs to them. That conversation stayed with me long after I left. And as I thought more about it, I realised perhaps there’s a way our paths were always meant to cross not in conflict, but in kinship.”

Kulbhushan tilted his head slightly. “I’m not sure I follow.”

Taking a deep breath, Jagdish was about to start when soft twinkling of anklets stopped him and he turned his head towards where the sound was coming from.

He saw Naintara was coming towards them with a tray in her hands and she offered Jagdish water quietly and was about to walk away from there.

But her father's voice stopped her again in her tracks, “Beta, prepare some snacks with tea….”

“No. Mr. Rajawat, water is more than enough for now.” Jagdish interrupted him instantly and Naintara walked away before looking at her father for a brief moment who just gave her a slight nod.

The moment Naintara stepped out of the hall Jagdish spoke the words that would change everything.

“I came here tonight to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage for my son, Shekhar.”

The room went completely still.

The ticking of the old clock on the wall seemed louder now. Somewhere in the courtyard, a nightjar called into the silence. Naintara, who had been quietly walking quietly, froze mid-step, outside near the wall beside the doorway, her fingers trembling around her dupatta in her fist as her wide eyes darted toward Jagdish.

Kulbhushan’s expression shifted from confusion to disbelief. “I… I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me right,” Jagdish said gently. “I would like Naintara to become my daughter-in-law, if you and she would bless the idea.”

For a long moment, Kulbhushan could only stare at the man sitting across from him. Then, almost as if to ground himself, he let out a soft, incredulous laugh.

“Mr. Raichand, I must admit… I did not expect this.”

“Neither did I,” Jagdish replied honestly. “Not until I met you yesterday. And not until I saw her.”

His eyes flickered briefly toward Naintara, who stood silently near the threshold, her dupatta drawn tightly over her head, her gaze lowered but her cheeks flushed crimson.

Kulbhushan sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t know what to say. Your family is… far above ours. You are industrialists, statesmen, people of influence. And we… we are just landowners trying to hold on to a small piece of our past.”

“Perhaps,” Jagdish said softly, “but a man’s worth isn’t measured by the size of his house or the weight of his wallet. It’s measured by his values. And from where I stand, this family has values money cannot buy.”

Kulbhushan was silent.

Jagdish leaned forward slightly, his tone now carrying the warmth of a father speaking from his heart. “Shekhar has everything a man could want: wealth, power, influence but I fear he lacks one thing: stability. A sense of home. Of belonging. Of something, someone who grounds him when the world around him demands too much.”

He paused, his voice softening even further. “When I saw your daughter yesterday… her grace, her compassion, her quiet strength… I realised she could be that anchor. Not just for my son, but for our family.”

Kulbhushan looked over his shoulder at Naintara, her eyes still downcast, her lips parted slightly as if she was holding her breath. The father in him felt the weight of the moment, the enormity of what was being asked.

“General sahab,” he said carefully, “marriage is not a transaction. And I will never treat it like one. My daughter’s happiness is my only concern.” And his gaze lingered on his daughter for a long, silent moment.

Then he exhaled deeply and gestured softly with his hand. “Beta,” he said gently, though his voice carried a subtle firmness now, “go to your room.”

Naintara hesitated, her eyes flickering between her father and Jagdish. But one look at Kulbhushan’s face told her this was not a request, it was an instruction. Clutching the edge of her dupatta, she nodded quietly and walked away, her anklets whispering against the floor as she disappeared down the corridor.

The moment she was gone, Kulbhushan’s demeanour shifted. The warmth in his eyes hardened into caution. When he spoke, his voice was calm, but laced with an unmistakable edge.

“Forgive me, Mr. Raichand,” he said, “but I must ask… is this truly about marriage? Or is this just a clever way of getting closer to the one thing I refused to sell you?”

Jagdish looked taken aback. “I don’t understand.”

Kulbhushan gave a hollow smile and reached for a folded newspaper lying on the table beside him. Without a word, he placed it on the table between them and slid it across to Jagdish.

“This morning’s headlines,” he said evenly. “I believe you’ve seen it.”

The bold black letters stared up at Jagdish from the front page:

“Shekhar Raichand and Actress Aaradhya Kapoor: India’s Most Eligible Couple?”

And beneath it, a glossy photograph of Shekhar stepping out of a gala event hand-in-hand with Aaradhya Kapoor, one of Bombay’s most talked-about actresses. Cameras had caught them laughing, leaning a little too close.

Kulbhushan’s tone grew sharper, though still dignified. “So forgive a father’s hesitation when the same man whose son is on the front page with another woman comes to my door and proposes marriage to my daughter. Tell me honestly, General sahab, is this about my daughter… or about my land?”

The room fell silent. For a moment, only the rustling of the courtyard trees filled the air. Then Jagdish drew a long, steady breath.

“I understand your suspicion,” he said quietly, pushing the newspaper back across the table. “I have a daughter too and in your place, I might have felt the same. But allow me to speak as a father, not as a businessman, not as a general.”

Kulbhushan said nothing. His eyes remained fixed on Jagdish.

“My son and Aaradhya have known each other since they were children,” Jagdish began. “They studied together in London, they attend the same circles, and they share friends. That is all. The rest is… ink and imagination. Newspapers will write anything if it sells copies, they turn glances into affairs and friendships into scandals.”

He paused, his voice softening further. “I promise you, there is no woman in Shekhar’s life. If there were, I would be the first to respect his choice. I have never, and will never, force my son into anything against his will.”

Kulbhushan’s expression remained guarded. “And yet you believe he will agree to this?”

“Yes,” Jagdish replied firmly. “Because Shekhar will not refuse the one thing he’s been missing, someone who truly sees beyond the world he lives in. Someone like your daughter.”

The older man’s brow furrowed slightly. Jagdish leaned forward, his tone now carrying a quiet, earnest gravity.

“I did not come here to ask for land under the guise of marriage. That is not who I am and I am not a man who needs to stoop to such tactics. That patch of soil you guard so fiercely… it isn’t even in my thoughts tonight. And if.. if this alliance were ever to happen, let me make one thing absolutely clear.”

He paused, locking eyes with Kulbhushan before speaking each word with deliberate weight.

“Whatever my son builds there… it will not belong to Shekhar. It will not belong to us. It will belong to her. To Naintara. That land will be her name, her possession, her future not because I want your property, but because I want my daughter-in-law to step into her new life with dignity and power of her own.”

The words seemed to linger in the air long after they were spoken.

Kulbhushan stared at him, the steel in his posture softened now, replaced by something far deeper: understanding. Slowly, he leaned back in his chair and exhaled, his voice quieter than before.

“You speak like a father, Mr. Raichand. And it is hard to mistrust a father’s heart.” He paused, glancing briefly toward the hallway where his daughter had disappeared. “But I hope you understand my hesitation too. She is all I have. My entire life’s worth is wrapped up in that girl. And I would rather see her live a simple, humble life than risk her happiness in a house where she is not truly wanted.”

Jagdish’s eyes softened. “And that is why I am here because I do not want a daughter-in-law who enters my home as an outsider. I want a daughter, one who is cherished, protected, and respected, who holds my family and legacy together with respect and knows the value of having it all. And I believe that daughter is Naintara.”

The two men sat in silence once more, but this time, the silence was different. It was no longer heavy with suspicion, it was thoughtful, measured, deeply human.

Finally, Kulbhushan spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “This is not a decision I can make in one night. I need to speak to my daughter. I need to hear her heart before I answer you.”

“Of course,” Jagdish said with a small, respectful nod. “Take your time. This isn’t a proposal to be rushed. It’s a bond that, if formed, will tie our families together for generations.”

Kulbhushan rose from his seat, and Jagdish did the same. As they shook hands, the tension between them dissolved into something warmer, the quiet acknowledgement of two fathers who, despite their differences, understood each other perfectly.

“Thank you for hearing me,” Jagdish said sincerely.

“And thank you,” Kulbhushan replied, “for giving me reason to believe this might truly be about my daughter and nothing else.”

He turned to leave, but when he saw Naintara standing on the other end of the corridor, he walked towards her and paused right in front of her…. just long enough for her to lift her gaze and meet his eyes for a fleeting moment.

 There was no pressure there, no demand, only warmth, respect, and something deeper.

“God bless you, beti,” he said softly. “May the next time we meet… be for something worth celebrating.”

Naintara lowered her eyes again, her heartbeat loud in her ears and he walked away.

As Jagdish stepped out into the cold night, the lamps flickering gently around the courtyard, he turned one last time to see Kulbhushan standing beneath the veranda light, older, wiser, and no longer just a man defending his land. He was a father weighing a future.

And somewhere inside that haveli, a young girl sat by her window, her heart racing with questions she had never dared to ask before.

As Jagdish settled into the car and the engine rumbled to life once more, he felt a strange calm settle over him. The future was uncertain, yes, but for the first time, he felt that fate had begun to move in the right direction.

As the Ambassador rolled away from Fatehpur Beri and back towards Delhi, Jagdish Raichand leaned his head back against the seat, eyes half-closed, the rhythm of the road humming beneath him. Yet sleep was the farthest thing from his mind.

One thought looped over and over again, circling like smoke in his chest.

He didn’t care if the newspapers called Aaradhya Kapoor “the perfect match” or “India’s most desired woman.”

He didn’t even dislike her  in truth, she was well-mannered, charming, and from a respected family. But she wasn’t the one.

She wasn’t the girl who could hold the weight of his home together.

She wasn’t the kind of woman who would remember every tradition, who would bring aarti to the temple every dawn, who would turn a house built with power into a home built with love.

She can't but Naintara can.

It always worries him the way Aaradhya’s eyes looked at Shekhar… that was what unsettled him. They carried a hunger, not for companionship, but for possession.

Jagdish had spent a lifetime in boardrooms and battlefields; he knew the difference between love and ambition.

Shekhar has nothing in his heart for her. He knows that much about his son that he will never go against his father's choice.

For the first time in months, a faint peace settled over him. Perhaps fate, too, wanted what he did, a woman like Naintara to become the soul of the Raichand family.

Maybe that's why fate brings him to Fatehpur beri so he can meet her.

Meanwhile, somewhere in Delhi……

The city’s winter breeze swept over the neon-lit terrace of The Capital Club, one of Delhi’s most exclusive members-only lounges. Crystal chandeliers bathed the room in golden light, jazz hummed low in the background, and the air was thick with the clink of expensive glasses and the soft rustle of silk sarees and tailored suits.

At a corner table by the glass window, Shekhar Raichand leaned back in a leather armchair, his sleeves rolled up, a tumbler of scotch swirling lazily in his hand. Across from him, Aaradhya Kapoor, radiant in a deep emerald dress laughed softly at something he’d just said, the sound light but calculated.

“Front page, huh?” Shekhar smirked, tossing a copy of the now-creased newspaper onto the table. Their photo, the same one that had infuriated Jagdish this morning, stared up at them.

Aaradhya’s lips curved into a slow smile. “Well, we do look good together.”

“Apparently, half the country thinks we’re already engaged,” Shekhar quipped, taking a slow sip from his glass.

“And the other half,” Aaradhya said, leaning in ever so slightly, her eyes glinting in the dim light and her hand resting on his thigh leisurely, “is just waiting for us to make it official.”

Shekhar chuckled, a low, careless sound but there was a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. He didn’t correct her. He didn’t encourage her either. He simply let the words hang between them, unfinished, unclaimed.