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Sofia pulls away from Mohit in shock as he recovers from that slap. This is the first time I have raised my hand on him. I had to because he was crossing lines. And just when I think he will regret and apologize, Mohit does something totally opposite. He raises his hand in return to slap me back. It happens so quickly that I cannot even fathom he would go to this extent. I shut my eyes, bracing for the pain which my grandson is about to give me, but when it doesn’t happen, I open them again only to be shocked witnessing Aarav standing between me and Mohit, holding Mohit’s hand and jolting him back.

Blood in my veins ran cold. Never in my life have I dreamed of a situation like this where Mohit would misbehave and Aarav would become my savior.

“You Prick,” Mohit composes himself and tries to hit Aarav, who holds his collar and pins Mohit to the wall behind.

Sofia steps away, but she looks equally panicked.

“Standing for the woman you love is good, but insulting your own family or misbehaving with your elders and physically hurting them for her is wrong,” Aarav mutters to Mohit. “If you can grow a spine to support one woman, don’t tarnish your soul by hurting another. Your grandmother has given you her world, Mohit. If you don’t respect that, you are not fit to be called a man.”

Aarav leaves Mohit, who trembles but Sofia rushes and supports him.

“Are you okay?” she asks in a panic. “I told you we shouldn’t be coming here. Your family is a mess!!”

“Mess?” Aarav snaps.

“Yes,” she argues. “His grandmother insulted me, instigating Mohit to raise his hand on her.”

“What kind of woman are you?” Aarav scoffs. “Don’t you get it? A man who can raise his hand over his family can never give you respect in the future. If you love him that much, teach him some respect too.”

Aarav’s defensive mode for me is shattering my heart into pieces. More than Mohit’s, it is Aarav’s attitude that has shocked me to the core.

“Let’s go,” Sofia drags Mohit out.

I think Mohit had forgotten to shut the door when they stepped in, and Aarav must have witnessed our debate and intervened. I’m still in shock when Aarav turns to me. That’s when I see the file in his hand.

“Your company is safe. I’m not touching the DG Group anymore nor do I have any interest in your Mansion.”

I don’t get it. Does he really want to give up his revenge? For Jhanvi?

“I have transferred the mansion back to your name and just a quick suggestion. Anybody can turn your board members against you, as I did. Don’t trust them.”

He was advising me? How to save my company? Hard to believe, but that’s what Aarav was doing these days. It was so hard to manipulate this boy and know what he thinks or does next? Without another word, Aarav walks out of the room.

*********************

Few Hours Later

Mohit raised his arm to slap me? I can’t believe it. My body is still trembling, recalling he was on the verge to hit me without any remorse and for what? Only for a woman? Only because I tried to put some sense in him? Agreed he was drunk, but that definitely doesn’t give him a right to disrespect his grandmother. He is all I have. What didn’t I do for him? I gave him the best of education, pampered him, and never let him feel orphaned. One demand from his lips and I had it fulfilled in a blink. I had sleepless nights when he fell sick, I didn’t eat if he fought with me. What didn’t I do for him? And today, that boy whom I love more than anyone else in this world raised his hand on me? I still can’t believe it. The mere thought of him hurting me stabs my heart, forcing me to think the other angle too. The one which I have always ignored, but not this time.About Aarav.

That boy whom I’ve hated despite being my own blood. The boy whose mother I never accepted in my family or gave her any rights. The boy who challenged me to make sure one day I’ll bow down before his mother. The boy whom I tagged as Forbidden. That boy whom I never saw with eyes of pity and sympathy, even after his mother passed away. That boy who no matter what I think, a part of my heart knows he’s still my blood. I never expected Aarav to defend me ever because the way I hate him, he has loathed me too. The way I keep him away, he has kept me away too. And yet today that same boy didn’t let me get insulted in the hands of my other grandson. He didn’t let Mohit slap me. He could have easily ignored it. He could have not taken a stand for me, but he did. Why?

That’s the difference between the way I raised Mohit and the way Geeta raised Aarav. I taught Mohit to hate. Geeta taught Aarav to love and respect. I gave Mohit every happiness and luxury of this world that made him forget his roots. Geeta gave Aarav wisdom and kept him connected to his roots. I unknowingly dragged Mohit towards the wrong path and despite revenging me throughout, Aarav still chose humanity by saving me from Mohit’s disgrace.

What have I done? I always believed class, name and status give power to people. I was wrong. I kept on holding onto the wrong ideas and notions in the name of family values and traditions, forcing my son Mahendra to do things in my favor and against his will. I would have lived my whole life believing I was always right had this incident not happened. It showed me the mirror. Today, I can see and count all my wrongdoings so far, and the worst is that I cannot even change anything. Aarav, Mohit and I have come a long way in this chain of hatred and revenge. None of us can change our hearts for each other. It’s too late. I am too late.

I pick up my phone and ask my secretary to book my flight back to India. I don’t think I can stay here any longer.

*********************

A week Later

Raichand Mansion - India

This house haunts me. The place where I stepped in after marrying, where I started a family, where I taught my son to love, where I raised him and made him a responsible man to lead the world, now haunts me. And that’s because these are just not the things I did here. I did other things too. I rejected my son’s love for a lower-class woman. I never acknowledged his marriage. I banished his son from getting any perks of the Raichand family. I forced my son to remarry and have another kid.

It’s been years since my son passed away, his wife died and now my grandson Mohit has left me alone to grieve for my own doings.

“Ma’am, doctor Rajan is here,” my assistant informs me.

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