The silence in the house after the phone call was a living entity, thick and suffocating. David stood for a long moment,
his back to the room, his shoulders slumped in a way Dakshin had never seen before.
The raw, thundering rage had vanished as quickly as it had come,
leaving behind a vacuum of utter defeat. Without a word, without even a glance at his wife or children
he turned and walked slowly into his study, closing the door with a soft, final click.
Clara let out a shuddering breath, her hands trembling as she brought them to her face.
She looked lost,
adrift in the wreckage of her husband's pride.
Dakshin watched the closed study door. The image of his father—the unshakeable pillar of logic and authority—reduced to that broken, vengeful shell was more terrifying than any shouted argument.
It was as if the core of the man had been hollowed out, leaving only the brittle husk of his anger.
For years, Dakshin's life had been governed by a single,
unwavering principle
"duty to family"
His father's will was the compass by which he navigated every major decision. He had given up Anaya,
the one person who had ever made him feel truly seen, on the altar of that duty. He had accepted the loneliness, the quiet despair, believing it was the "right way," the noble path to becoming the man his family needed.
Now, that altar was in ashes.
The great, unassailable fortress of his father's judgment had not been besieged from the outside; it had crumbled from within, eroded by paranoia and pride. The "duty" he had sacrificed everything for was not a noble principle. It was his father's ego, disguised as strategy. The weight of that realization settled on him, crushing and absolute. He had let the love of his life walk away for a lie.
A quiet, simmering anger began to burn in his chest, not at the extended family, but at the man in the study. And at himself, for his own blindness.
Later that evening, a text message lit up his phone. It was from Sarah.
Sarah: Heard what happened. The whole family's talking about it. Are you okay?
He stared at the screen. Sarah, with her sharp eyes and quiet understanding, was a tether to a world outside this crumbling dynasty. She wasn't asking for gossip; she was asking about him.
Dakshin: No. But I will be.
It was the first honest thing he'd said in a year. He was standing in the ruins of his old life, but for the first time, he could see a clear path through the debris. The chains of duty had been broken by the very man who forged them. Now, he was free. The thought was terrifying, and it was the most hopeful thing he had felt in a very long time.