The Heir's Muse

Chapter-ii

Saanjh

"Yes Mamma, I've taken my meals" I cradled the phone between my left ear and shoulder as I continued to stir the bowl of oatmeal. Just a little lie.

"Will you spend the rest of your life on run?" She asked, her perplex audible.

I threw my head back. "I don't know. Just tell Papa. I am taking time to process..things. I am applying for ad agencies and as soon I have saved enough, I am applying for Visa for all of us"

She hummed. "Your father keeps worrying about you. But he is managing other people's queries very well. We both are"

I beamed in gratitude. My parents are indeed too good for this world.

"But make sure you navigate your way through love again. Not all men are the same"

Here we go again.

"As long as I have both of you by my side, I don't need anyone else" I put the sliced bananas in the bowl and take a spoonful. "Ok bye. Raj is calling me"

"Are you sure he is just a friend?"

"Maa!" I warned but my tone was a mix of fury and giggle. She laughed a little before hanging up.

Mumbai had a way of swallowing you whole—its bustling streets, the cacophony of honking horns, the smell of sea salt mixed with the aroma of street food. It was overwhelming and intoxicating all at once. For someone like me, still grappling with the scars of a past I couldn't forget, it offered a strange kind of solace. Here, among the millions, I could disappear.

Raj had been my anchor in this chaotic city. We had met in college, both of us far from home and looking for something to cling to. He was from a small town in Gujarat, a world away from the glittering lights of Mumbai. His easygoing nature and the way he could make me laugh, even on my worst days, had drawn me to him. We became fast friends, sharing meals, study sessions, and the occasional late-night confessions over cutting chai at our favorite roadside stall.

But Raj was more than just a friend. He was the one who had stood by me when everything had fallen apart, the one who had helped me pick up the pieces when my world had crumbled. When the video leaked, when the shame and guilt threatened to consume me, it was Raj who had advised me to relocate here.

"Hello Raj" I greeted

"Saanjh, are you free tonight?" His voice crackled over the line, barely audible above the noise of the street outside my window.

"Why, what's up?" I asked, already reaching for my jacket.

"There's this event... It's at the Malhotra mansion. Anant Malhotra is hosting some big gathering, and I got an invite. I don't want to go alone."

The name Malhotra was enough to send a shiver down my spine. Even in a city as big as Mumbai, the Malhotras were known. They were old money, the kind that came with power and influence. The idea of stepping into their world felt like stepping onto a stage where I didn't belong.

"Raj, I don't know... I'm not sure if I'm the right person to—"

"Saanjh, please," he interrupted, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. You've been cooped up for too long. Maybe a night out is exactly what you need."

I hesitated, biting my lip. Raj was right—I had been hiding, retreating into myself, trying to forget. Maybe it was time to face the world again, even if just for one night.

"Okay," I agreed finally. "But you owe me one."

He laughed, the sound warm and familiar. "Deal. I'll pick you up at eight."

Dhruv

Mumbai was a city that never slept, but for me, it was a city that never let me rest. The relentless pace, the constant noise—it all felt like a reminder of what I was trying to escape. My father's world, with its wealth and expectations, loomed over me like a shadow I couldn't outrun.

I spent most of my time in my studio, a small, cluttered space tucked away in a quieter part of the city. Here, among the canvases and paint-splattered floors, I could lose myself in my work. But tonight, even the comfort of my studio couldn't keep the world at bay. The invitation from my father lay on the desk, a gilded envelope that felt like it weighed a ton.

I hadn't been back to the mansion in months. The thought of returning filled me with a sense of dread, but there was no avoiding it. My father's gatherings were never just social events—they were power plays, opportunities to remind everyone of his influence.

I knew what he expected of me—to show up, play the dutiful son, and not embarrass him. But the idea of stepping back into that world, even for a night, felt suffocating. I glanced at the portrait of Saanjh, her eyes staring back at me with a mix of vulnerability and defiance. The memory of her lingered in my mind, a distraction I couldn't afford.With a sigh, I picked up the envelope and tore it open. The words were formal, the tone commanding.

My phone chimed at my desk.

Maa

If not for him or the media, atleast turn up for me tonight.

Herefrom I knew that attendance was not optional.

Saanjh

By the time Raj and I arrived at the Malhotra mansion, my nerves were frayed. The estate was everything I had imagined—grand, imposing, and utterly intimidating. The driveway was lined with luxury cars, each one more expensive than the last. The mansion itself loomed ahead, its towering columns and sprawling lawns a testament to the wealth and power of the family that owned it.

Raj seemed just as nervous as I was, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced by a tension I hadn't seen before. "You okay?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

He nodded, but his eyes were distant. "Yeah, just... It's a lot, you know?"

I did know. This world, with its opulence and excess, was as far from our reality as it could get. But tonight, we were a part of it, whether we liked it or not.

We stepped out of the car and made our way inside, the grand entrance hall taking my breath away. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a soft, golden glow over the marble floors. Guests in designer gowns and tailored suits mingled, their laughter and chatter filling the air.

I felt out of place, like an imposter in someone else's life. But Raj's presence beside me was a comfort, a reminder that I wasn't alone in this.

We hadn't been inside for more than a few minutes when I saw him—Dhruv Malhotra, standing near the center of the room, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He was tall, his dark hair tousled as if he had just run his fingers through it. There was something about him, something magnetic that drew my eyes to him even when I didn't want them to.

Our gazes met, and for a moment, it felt like the noise of the room faded away, leaving just the two of us. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes held an intensity that made my heart skip a beat.

Raj must have noticed, because he leaned in close and whispered, "That's Dhruv Malhotra. You know, the artist?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I knew who he was—everyone did. But seeing him in person, feeling the weight of his gaze on me, was something else entirely. The memory of last night wasn't out of my system yet. I did remember that this billionaire brat was indeed a creep.

As if sensing my unease, Raj slipped his arm through mine, guiding me toward the bar. "Come on, let's get a drink."

But before we could move, Dhruv was in front of us, his presence commanding even in a room full of people. "Raj," he greeted, his voice smooth. "Good to see you."

Raj smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Dhruv. This is Saanjh, a friend of mine."

Dhruv's gaze shifted to me, and I felt a flush rise to my cheeks. "Saanjh," he repeated, his tone thoughtful. "A pleasure to meet you." He had been eyeing me from top to toe, or to say his eyes were sinking me in. I felt irritated but a teeny tiny part of me felt giddy.

Yikes!

"The pleasure is mine," I managed, though my voice was barely above a whisper.

His eyes lingered on me for a moment longer, and I could feel the tension between us, electric and undeniable. Then, just as quickly, he turned back to Raj. "You two enjoy yourselves," he said, his tone polite but distant. "And if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

With that, he was gone, disappearing into the crowd like a shadow.

Dhruv

Seeing her here, in the midst of my father's world, was like a punch to the gut. In a peach short dress, she had embraced her femininity. She looked strikingly different yet somehow more radiant than anyone else in the room. There was a vulnerability about her, a softness that contrasted sharply with the hard edges of the world I had grown up in.

Raj had introduced her as a friend, but there was something more there—I could see it in the way he watched over her, the way he stayed close. And yet, when she had looked at me, I had seen something in her eyes, something that mirrored the pull I felt toward her.

I couldn't let myself get distracted, not tonight. My father's eyes were on me, as they always were, and I knew better than to give him a reason to question my presence. But even as I made my way through the room, exchanging pleasantries and making the rounds, my thoughts kept drifting back to Saanjh.

She was different from the women I usually met at these events—real, grounded in a way that was rare in this world of money and power. And that made her dangerous, a distraction I couldn't afford.

But the more I tried to push her from my mind, the more she seemed to linger, her presence like a shadow that wouldn't fade.