The function hall was bright with lights, music, and chatter. People greeted each other with excitement, exchanging sweets and gossip. It was the kind of atmosphere Aryan usually hated. Too many weak people, too much noise, too many smiles that meant nothing.
But that night, something different pulled his attention.
She walked in wearing a soft yellow lehenga, her hair tied loosely behind her back, a few strands falling on her face. She moved without hurry and without fear. For someone so young, she carried herself like she belonged everywhere.
Aryan's eyes narrowed.
He did not believe in innocence. Innocence was a mask people wore until they had something to gain. Yet this girl did not try to impress anyone. She did not bend, did not blush, did not fake a smile. She simply existed—and the world made space for her.
His mother noticed his gaze.
"Pretty girl, right?" she whispered with a teasing smile.
Aryan did not answer.
"Her name is Nithya," his father added. "Daughter of an old friend. She's nineteen. Studying Business Management. Sharp girl."
Business Management.
Aryan's interest deepened slightly. Very few people chose business at that age for the right reasons.
"She wants to study abroad," his mother continued. "Maybe Korea."
Korea.
The universe had a strange sense of humor.
Aryan watched Nithya for a long minute. She was laughing with another girl, accepting sweets politely, and ignoring the eyes staring at her. Many boys noticed her beauty, but Aryan noticed something else—her silence. Silence was not weakness. Silence was strategy. Aryan understood that better than anyone.
Later in the evening, some relatives approached Nithya.
"So what do you want to become in life?" an aunt asked, smiling as if she already knew the answer.
"Independent," Nithya replied. Her voice was calm and steady.
The aunt laughed. "No, no, I mean what job? Business? Marriage? What plan?"
Nithya smiled politely. "I plan to run something of my own. Something big."
The aunt blinked, surprised. "Big? Like what?"
"That depends on opportunity," Nithya said simply. "Opportunity is more powerful than dreams."
Aryan heard it.
And he liked it.
Most girls talked about jobs, rings, or romance. This girl talked about opportunity. That was the language of leaders.
When dinner started, chaos grew. Kids ran between tables, women arranged plates, men discussed politics loudly. India never ate quietly.
Aryan stood near the balcony door, observing. He was never the center of attention, yet attention always moved towards him. His aura was too strong to hide. Wherever he stood, the atmosphere shifted.
Some young businessmen recognized him from magazine covers. They whispered among themselves, unsure if they should approach. Nobody ever approached Aryan without permission.
Meanwhile, Nithya sat at a corner table with a small plate of food. She ate slowly, studying the hall as if she was analyzing a business deal. It reminded Aryan of something—he once sat exactly like that during a political summit in Europe. Young, silent, calculating.
His mother saw the spark in his eyes. Mothers always knew.
"Go talk," she whispered.
Aryan's eyebrow lifted slightly. He did not "talk" to people. People talked to him if he allowed.
"Fine," his mother sighed. "Just watch then. At least pretend to be normal for one day."
Normal.
Aryan had forgotten what that word felt like.
When dessert arrived, Nithya stood up to leave the hall for fresh air. She walked to the balcony on the opposite side. Aryan followed later, quietly, not because he wanted to chase, but because instincts led him.
The balcony was cool, wind brushing softly against her hair. Nithya rested her hands on the metal railing, watching cars and city lights below.
"You don't like crowds," Aryan said, his voice low behind her.
Nithya did not turn immediately. "No," she answered. "Crowds make too much noise and too little sense."
Aryan's lips moved slightly. Not a smile—just amusement.
"Crowds are useful," he replied. "They hide valuable people."
"Or they hide dangerous ones," Nithya said, finally turning her head a little.
Their eyes met. No fear. No shyness. No hesitation.
Only awareness.
Most girls looked down when Aryan stared. Most boys avoided his gaze completely. But Nithya held his eyes calmly, like she had seen stronger storms.
"What are you studying?" Aryan asked.
"Business Management," she replied. "I want to understand how power works in daylight."
Daylight.
Interesting choice of word. Most people never realized that real power came from both daylight and darkness.
"And after studies?" Aryan asked.
"I will go to Korea," Nithya said. "Opportunity is bigger there."
Korea again. Fate was laughing somewhere.
Aryan nodded once. "Good choice."
Nithya took that as the end of conversation and walked back inside. She did not give him her name. She did not try to impress him. She did not look back.
That made Aryan watch her longer.
Because only rare people turned their back to the Eagle without fear.
And rarer people did it with dignity.
Aryan had conquered cities and men.
But that night, curiosity conquered him.