The Dr Kaira Chapter. - Page 10

Originally posted by: A_Star39

Part 11 is out!

Totally awaiting next part🫣🤗

In Ghum, Akkasaheb once character assassinated Savi’s lineage. Could the same happen here? Vidya can do the honours iykyk

Originally posted by: Ajab.Pehchan

In Ghum, Akkasaheb once character assassinated Savi’s lineage. Could the same happen here? Vidya can do the honours iykyk

Would you like anything else as a side or dessert?or some cocktail?

Originally posted by: A_Star39

noted this as main course

Would you like anything else as a side or dessert?or some cocktail?

Originally posted by: Dr.RealityCheck

Insulting poddars well done……

But i do not agree on erasing Abhinav part……that part could be written without showing it is like insulting Abhinav….

i will insult abhinav ji a lot.

Sorry🤭

Ladies next part dropping today

Originally posted by: A_Star39

I am a beggar na?

i will insult abhinav ji a lot.

Sorry🤭

Ladies next part dropping today

Nav should be non existent in this drama but would love to have birlas. Even though there is no scope for them

Part 12:The Great Goenka Ejection

The glamour of the Naira Goenka Cultural Centre inaugurationhad faded, leaving behind the chill of hard reality and exposed emotionalwounds across Udaipur’s elite homes.

The master suite of the Goenka Mansion was a haven of hushedluxury. Muskan sat at her vanity, removing her heavy sapphire jewelry, while Kairavchanged into casual wear, the triumphant smirk he wore earlier now replaced bya look of familial concern.

Kairav: "We won tonight. It was a complete publichumiliation for the Poddars. But frankly, watching them... it wasdisgusting."

Muskan (Massaging her temples, her voice laced withdistaste): "Disgusting is the perfect word, Kairav. Vidya’s venom, thatvulgar outburst, Kaveri ji’s sheer desperation... it’s a culture, not just afamily. It’s rot."

She turned, holding a diamond bracelet loosely in her hand.

Muskan: "And that is precisely why we need to talkabout Aaryan. We chose him because he promised to be different, to be better.But if he is going to let that level of vulgarity and hatred be his background ifhe can't even keep his Taiji silent at a public event is he truly capable ofstanding by Kaira?"

Kairav (Walking over, his voice softening with paternalprotectiveness): "The risk feels too high. We put Kaira through so muchjust to secure this alliance, but seeing her standing next to him tonight,knowing that Poddar poison might seep into her life... I don't know if I canwatch her repeat Abhira's mistake."

Muskan: "Exactly. We promised Kaira freedom, notanother cycle of trauma and domestic chaos. If Aaryan is just 'another Armaan'hiding behind a clever suit, we need to save her now. We need to seriously reconsiderthis alliance. There are other ways to defeat the Poddars without sacrificingour daughter’s happiness to that messy, toxic family."

Kairav put his hand over hers, a decision silently made.Protecting Kaira from emotional damage outweighed the political convenience ofthe marriage.

In the relative quiet of the Poddar home, the air was thickwith defeat and silent accusation.

Abhira was seated alone in the massive living room, unableto move to her own quarters. Her mind was caught in a continuous, agonizingloop of Muskan and Kairav's dismissive voices.

Abhira (Whispering, her hands tightly gripping her knees): "Irrelevant.Doesn't hold prestige. Forgotten.I am maha sad"

The words had stripped her bare. She had spent a decadedefending the Sharma name, viewing it as the shield of her father's pure love.But the Goenkas had dismissed that love and that choice as meaninglesssentimentality, forcing her to realize: in their world, her entire foundationwas invisible.

She felt not just anger, but the cold trauma of knowing thather own powerful family considered her father's legacy the source of heridentity to be an embarrassing footnote.

Upstairs, Vidya lay stiffly in bed, the lights still on. Shewas still wearing the expensive, heavy jewelry she had worn to the event. Herface was pale, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears of wounded pride andfear.

Madhav, looking tired and defeated, sat beside her, gentlyrubbing her shoulder.

Madhav: "Vidya, please. Natak band karo,sach hi bola usne."

Vidya (Her voice a raw, choked hiss): "She didn't justhurt me, Madhav. She went too far. In front of the entire city! She brought upthe one thing... the one thing Maa saand I buried deeper than the grave! Shecalled Armaan 'chori ka'! She implied that I participated in erasing... hisbirth mother."

Vidya turned her face into her pillow, unable to bear thepublic exposure of the family's darkest secret.

Vidya: "They know, Madhav. The Goenkas know everything.And they will use it to destroy us."

Later that night, back in her own quiet own room at GoenkaVilla, Ruhi sat beside Daksh's bed. The recent confrontations Armaan’sself-pity, the Goenka’s cold dismissal of the Sharma name had left heremotionally drained.

She hummed a soft tune, stroking Daksh’s hair until hisbreathing deepened into the steady rhythm of sleep. Once assured he wassettled, she rose and moved to her walk-in closet.

She pulled out a crisp, expensive suit. Ruhi, now aformidable professional involved in the Goenka family’s international legal andbusiness affairs, knew the importance of presentation.

She hadn't been to the Birla Mansion in three years. MeetingHarshvardhan (Dada) and Manjari (Dida) was always an exercise in patience, eventhough their affection for her was absolute and unquestioned. They loved hercompletely, making her a safe harbour in the family's endless drama.Harshvardhan’s theatrical cruelty was legendary, but it was always directedoutward at Akshara, at the "tuntuna bajanewali," at anyone he deemedscientifically or intellectually beneath him.

I am Ruhi Birla , she mentally rehearsed, smoothingthe silk lining of her jacket. I am their granddaughter, the one they adore.I can withstand an hour of 'Piya Tose Naina Laage Re' taunts and 'panauti'lectures.

She knew the visit was a necessity a chance to maintain avital link to her late father, Neil’s, family and their institutional power.She would need every ounce of her professional composure for the visittomorrow, not to defend herself, but to simply survive her eccentric, lovinggrandfather's exaggerated judgment of everyone else.

The gleaming, minimalist white marble of the Birla Mansion’smain atrium felt like walking into a high-end heart hospital.

Ruhi, elegant and composed in her power suit, walked in withDaksh, who was examining the abstract steel sculpture in the corner with acritic's eye.

Seated in a state-of-the-art ergonomic chair near a massive,sunlit window was Harshvardhan Birla, looking impeccably haughty. Though he andManjari were now of the age of Naksh and Kirti, his energy was that of aperpetually dissatisfied CEO. Manjari Birla, traditional as ever, wasmeticulously arranging marigolds near a small, modern temple structure.

Ruhi (Approaching politely, feeling the warmth of their lovefor her): "Dida, Dadu. Namaste. Daksh and I just came to check on youafter the event last night."

Harsh lowered his transparent screen and squinted at Ruhi.

Harshvardhan: "Ah, Ruhi. My sensible girl. You looksharp. Now, about that NGCC event... They are celebrating a cultural center,but what did they really celebrate? The Akshara Goenka School of Music! Goodgrief. The only thing worse than a useless doctor is a tuntuna bajanewali whoencourages noise pollution."

Manjari stopped arranging the marigolds, her face tighteningwith a familiar, bitter distaste for the name.

Manjari (Her voice flat, tinged with regret):"Harshvardhanji, there is no need to bring up that name. The womanis gone, and her trauma is history."

Harshvardhan seized on her dismissive tone, his eyeslighting up with theatrical malice as he prepared to mock her poor judgment.

Harshvardhan (Snapping his head toward her, eyes wide withexaggerated horror): "Ah, 'history'! Manjari, I thought you hadconveniently forgotten that history! Badi jaldi bhool gayi? You were such a staunch, nauseating supporter of her… her 'melodies,' as you called them, foryears!"

He shot his hand up, adopting a ridiculously theatricalposture, and began singing—off-key and with utterly dramatic handmovements—staring directly at Manjari to taunt her for her previous loyalty tothe "enemy."

Harshvardhan (Wailing loudly, dramatically pointing atManjari): "🎶 Piya Tose Naina LaageRe! 🎶 Haaye Oh, the hours we spent enduring thatmelodrama! You and your beloved tuntuna-bahu singing those endless, tearfulduets in this very house! Aap toh usse Devi ki tarah poojti thi! I tell you, Ihad to triple the soundproofing in my study just to protect my cognitivefunctions from your poor, poor choice of bahu and music taste! That wasan auditory crime, Manjari!"

Harshvardhan then leaned back, his expression turning sourlydramatic, addressing Ruhi as if she were an auditor reviewing a defectiveinventory.

Harshvardhan: "Forget the music, Ruhi. Let's talk aboutthe quantifiable evidence! The medical charts! You see, that tuntuna bajanewaliwas not just a source of terrible singing; she was a medical calamity!"

He counted on his fingers with manic precision.

Harshvardhan: "First, Anisha—gone after being caught inher silence! Then, Neil—my own son, gone because she dragged him into herheroics without police backup! Then, our chief surgeon, Abhimanyu, gone in alandslide on her wedding day! And, finally, my poor daughter-in-law, Aarohi,gone too!"

He shuddered, then pointed an accusatory finger, his voiceescalating into a horrified lament.

Harshvardhan: "And the one who survived thechaos—Abhir! My grandson! Did he use that second chance to become a cardiac surgeon, to honor his father's medical legacy? No! He followed the panauti'spath! He became a rock-and-roll singer! A noise maker! As if the curse of the tuntuna was hereditary! It's an insult to the entire medical profession.Dr Birla ka beta is a genetic downgrade!"

Harshvardhan had collapsed back into his ergonomic chair,wailing softly over the hereditary curse of the tuntuna.

It was at this moment that Daksh, tired of being a silentwitness to his great-grandfather’s dramatic trauma, piped up brightly, lookingup from the steel sculpture.

Daksh (In his clear, internationally schooled voice):"Don't worry, Dadaji! I won't be a tuntuna maker like Abhir Mama.I am going to be a doctor! A brilliant one! Like Bade Dadu and Nani was, and like Shivansh Mamu is!"

The effect was instantaneous and electrifying. Harshvardhanstopped mid-wail, his despair dissolving into ecstatic pride. He shot upright,looking at Daksh with the adoration usually reserved for a gold-plated stockcertificate.

Harshvardhan (Leaning forward, his face absolutely beaming):"Haaye! Mera bachcha! See, Manjari? See the difference? That is pure Birlaintellect and genetic superiority speaking! The medical lineage is preserved!The curse has skipped a generation!"

He reached out and pulled Daksh into a tight, dramatic hug.

Harshvardhan: "You, my precious great-grandson, willsave this family's reputation! You will be a heart surgeon! No, wait, a neurosurgeon!No noise! Only silence, precision, and the beautiful, beautiful sound of aperfect six-figure consultation fee! I knew raising you was the best decision,Ruhi! Pure genius!"

Manjari offered a small, fond smile, relieved that thefamily's newest generation had managed to steer clear of Harshvardhan's currentlist of acceptable family disasters.

Ruhi smiled warmly at the immediate, theatrical adorationDaksh received. This was the unconditional, chaotic Birla love that madesurviving their criticism of everyone else just about tolerable.

Harshvardhan was still busy dramatically blessing Daksh’sfuture surgical hands. Manjari, seizing the small window of calm, moved closerto Ruhi, offering a genuine, warm smile—the one reserved for the family membersshe truly cherished.

Manjari (Speaking in a soft, normal tone, providing theessential updates): "He is such a bright boy, Ruhi. It’s lovely to seeyou. Don’t mind his Bade Dada; he’s justdoing his usual shokh (hobby) of performance art."

She gently touched Ruhi's arm.

Manjari: "Everything here is very steady. Shivansh isdoing marvelously as a heart surgeon; he and Vaani are running those chaotictwins, Jiya and Riya, ragged. Those two are quite the handful, but bright,thank God."

Manjari: "And Nishtha is finally settled. She’s asuccessful child specialist now, managing her own practice with Arvind handlingall the administration for the main hospital—you know how busy he keeps thefinance side. Their daughter, Mrinalini, is already studying gynecology atAIIMS in Delhi. That generation is all business and medicine, thankgoodness."

She lowered her voice slightly.

Manjari: "It was a disaster losing Anandvardhan,Mahima, and Parth in that crash, but Shefali is doing well. She is focused onher career and is now the Editor. Everyone is moving forward, Ruhi. Just a bitquieter now."

Ruhi nodded, absorbing the functional, positive report. TheBirlas might be dramatic, but they were efficient, always prioritizing careerand medicine, which was exactly the stability she valued.

Harshvardhan had just finished his dramatic adulation ofDaksh’s future neurosurgical career. He released the boy and straightened hisexpensive jacket, instantly shifting from doting great-grandfather tocalculating medical CEO.

Harshvardhan (His voice becoming serious and clinical):"Excellent. Now, Ruhi, a slight change of topic, but strictlyprofessional. We have heard quite a lot about your cousin, Dr. Kaira Goenka."

Ruhi tensed slightly, knowing any conversation about aGoenka in this house was high-risk.

Ruhi: "Yes, Dada? Kaira is doing very well with herprivate practice."

Harshvardhan (Scoffing slightly, but acknowledging thefacts): "Doing well? She’s a financial miracle! Her revenue streams areastonishing. I had my administration run the numbers—her Dr. Kaira's Hair andSkin Centre is grossing more than some of our satellite clinics! Badi shatirladki hai."

He tapped a precise rhythm on his desk, his medical mindworking quickly.

Harshvardhan: "Her cosmetic and aesthetic practice istop-tier. We need that profile. Birla Hospital needs a high-end CosmeticDermatology Division—it's a massive untapped market for our elite clientele. Tellme, Ruhi: Given her success, do you think Dr. Kaira would consider joining the BirlaHospital as a Consultant? We could offer her an absurd compensation package anda corner office with a better view than the Chief of Cardiology."

He lifted a single eyebrow, his challenge clear: would Kairachoose the financial freedom of her clinic or the ultimate prestige of theBirla name?

Harshvardhan: "Despite the... tragic musicallineage she shares with others (he glanced pointedly at Manjari), she isundeniably a world-class professional. Does she have any interest in upgradingher 'aesthetic centre' to the official Birla standard of excellence? Think ofthe prestige, Ruhi."

Ruhi held his gaze, knowing this was a key piece ofinformation to take back to Kairav and Muskan.

Ruhi: "I can ask, Dada. Kaira is very focused on herindependence, but I will certainly convey the offer."

The atmosphere inside Dr. Kaira's Hair and Skin Centre was adeliberate exercise in aesthetic calm. The walls were textured charcoal andsoft cream, illuminated by hidden strip lighting that gave everything aflattering glow. The air was cool, scented with a precise blend of sandalwoodand tea tree oil, masking any clinical smells. Every surface—from the quartzreception desk to the leather seating—spoke of quiet, expensive confidence.

Kaira herself emerged from the laser treatment wing,spotless in her custom-tailored white coat. She had just completed a trickysession, and the professional adrenaline was still humming beneath her calmexterior.

Kaira (Reviewing a chart with her head nurse, her voice calmand precise): "Increase the depth on the fractional setting for Ms.Sharma's next session. Her collagen response is excellent, but we need totarget the sub-dermal layer aggressively. And confirm the appointment for thenew CEO of Mittal Corp tomorrow morning; he needs the microneedling done beforethe market opens."

She moved towards the reception area, which functioned withflawless efficiency. The lead receptionist, Meera, was handling three linessimultaneously with a tranquil smile.

Kaira (Pausing at the desk, offering a genuine smile):"Meera, the schedule flow today was perfect. Great work."

Meera: "Thank you, Dr. Kaira. We just try to keep upwith your demand! Mrs. Singhania complimented the new eye cream sample you gaveher."

Kaira nodded, pleased. She glanced at a tiered shelf nearthe back, stacked with sleek, minimalist bottles—her own exclusive,high-efficacy skincare line.

Kaira: "That reminds me. It’s been a high-stress week,and you all deserve a little compensation beyond your bonuses."

She turned to Meera and the two other staff memberspresent—a therapist and a junior nurse—her hands sweeping toward the productshelf.

Kaira: "Take whatever you need. The Vitamin C Elixirfor radiance, the Repair Night Cream for recovery. Everything up there isyours. Consider it mandatory self-care. I expect my team to look just aspristine as my clients."

The staff members exchanged delighted, grateful glances.These products retailed for exorbitant amounts, reflecting Kaira's dedicationto quality.

Therapist: "Thank you so much, ma'am! The Night Creamis magical."

Kaira (Giving a brief, professional nod): "It'seffective. Now, I need to review tomorrow's inventory. I'll be in my office. Ifthe Mittal call comes in, patch it directly."

Kaira walked away, leaving behind a brief burst of warmthand generosity. In her Centre, she was the ultimate authority—a self-madesuccess earning crazy amounts, proving that her intelligence and ambition werebest channeled into a field where results were visible, measurable, andentirely dependent on her skill, not on family politics.

Later that afternoon, the quiet hum of professionalism inthe clinic faded as Kaira retreated to her private office. She opened herlaptop and navigated to the business dashboard.

The screen glowed, displaying the current financial overviewof Dr. Kaira's Hair and Skin Centre.

Kaira took a sip of her artisanal organic green tea. Sheglanced at the Total Balance figure and immediately choked, spraying a finemist of jasmine-scented tea onto her monitor.

She quickly grabbed a sterile wipe and leaned in, rereadingthe astronomical number.

Kaira (Eyes wide, speaking to her reflection in the darkscreen): "What in the tax evasion hell is this? Did Mrs.Shikarwataccidentally pay with her entire Swiss account for that one freckleconsultation?"

She zoomed in, verifying the figures. It was all real. Itwas an astonishing number, far surpassing any reasonable target. The revenuewas entirely the result of catering to the micro-insecurities of the elite.

A sudden, wide, almost maniacal grin broke across Kaira'sface.

Kaira (Clutching her chest dramatically): "Oh, my God.I am bathing in liquid gold! This is what you get when you charge a five-figuresum just to tell a maharani that her skin is 'epidermally adequate'! My mehnat(hard work) paid off, lekin iss mehnat mein toh paagalpan ki royalty bhi shamilhai!

She punched the air softly.

Kaira: "I should send Rani sa a thank-you note! Ekmillimetre freckle ki itni high value? I think I might actually start believingin cosmetic miracles! With this kind of money, I don't need Aaryan or thePoddar alliance; I could buy the whole Poddar Mansion and turn it into a Catand Dogs rejuvenation spa!"

She threw her head back and let out a single, sharp burst oflaughter.

Then, just as quickly, she slapped her hands onto the desk,smoothing her perfect coat. She inhaled deeply, straightening her expressionback into the mask of the calm, calculating doctor.

Kaira (To her laptop, sternly): "Okay, Ms. Kaira.Compose yourself. That money is for acquisition and expansion. No morelaughing. Now, let’s see the quarterly reports on the anti-aging serum, that’swhere the real paise ka sukoon is."

The Palatial Goenka Diamonds office, located on the highestfloor of the Goenka tower, was a study in cold, reflective power. Late eveninglight cast long shadows over the highly polished mahogany table where Kairavand Muskan sat. The city skyline was their silent witness.

Kairav had just finished reviewing the financial andpersonal background reports—including Ruhi’s indirect feedback about the Poddarenvironment.

Kairav (Closing the file with a decisive snap): "Thedecision is made, Muskan. We are not proceeding with the marriage."

Muskan (Her face set in hard lines): "Absolutely not.The risk assessment is catastrophic. We chose Aaryan for his mind, but hisfamily’s toxicity is genetic. He is not a clever asset; he is a contaminatedproduct. He is 'another Armaan,' and we will not sacrifice Kaira to that cycleof deception and chaos again."

Muskan leaned forward, her hands resting on the cool surfaceof the table. Her protective instincts, usually channeled into business, werenow entirely focused on her niece.

Muskan: "Lekin hum seedhe-seedhe mana nahin kar sakteKaira needs to make this decision herself. She is marrying Aaryan for areason—to prove she is strong enough to control her life. If we simply 'rescue'her, she will resent us. She needs to see his reality."

Kairav (A grim smile touching his lips, recognizing thenecessity of the performance): "So, the alliance goes forward... as a natak(drama/act). We will use the engagement to smoke him out."

Muskan: "Exactly. We will go to the Poddars, act likewe are desperate for this union, and push the preparations aggressively. Thepressure will be immense. Wohi pressure Aaryan ko tod dega. His true, weak,Poddar-like flaws will surface. His controlling nature, his insecurity everythingwe noticed but ignored."

Kairav raised his hand in a slow, solemn gesture, mirroringhis wife.

Kairav: "We will give her the evidence. We will makehim reveal the monster we suspect is hiding inside. And when Kaira sees it, shewill not need us to tell her to walk away. Woh khud Aaryan ko apni zindagi seeject karegi.”

Muskan (Her voice hardening with the final vow): "Kasoorsirf uska hi nahin hoga, Kairav The fault will be in his bloodline. This natakstarts tomorrow. No more sentimentality. We are protecting our family."

The two most powerful members of the Goenka family hadreached an agreement. They would initiate a full-scale covert operation,turning Kaira’s engagement into a controlled experiment designed to expose thefiancé and secure their daughter's freedom.

Part 12 is out!

Was busy so had to release this late.Will try to release early

Originally posted by: A_Star39

Part 12:The Great Goenka Ejection

The glamour of the Naira Goenka Cultural Centre inaugurationhad faded, leaving behind the chill of hard reality and exposed emotionalwounds across Udaipur’s elite homes.

The master suite of the Goenka Mansion was a haven of hushedluxury. Muskan sat at her vanity, removing her heavy sapphire jewelry, while Kairavchanged into casual wear, the triumphant smirk he wore earlier now replaced bya look of familial concern.

Kairav: "We won tonight. It was a complete publichumiliation for the Poddars. But frankly, watching them... it wasdisgusting."

Muskan (Massaging her temples, her voice laced withdistaste): "Disgusting is the perfect word, Kairav. Vidya’s venom, thatvulgar outburst, Kaveri ji’s sheer desperation... it’s a culture, not just afamily. It’s rot."

She turned, holding a diamond bracelet loosely in her hand.

Muskan: "And that is precisely why we need to talkabout Aaryan. We chose him because he promised to be different, to be better.But if he is going to let that level of vulgarity and hatred be his background ifhe can't even keep his Taiji silent at a public event is he truly capable ofstanding by Kaira?"

Kairav (Walking over, his voice softening with paternalprotectiveness): "The risk feels too high. We put Kaira through so muchjust to secure this alliance, but seeing her standing next to him tonight,knowing that Poddar poison might seep into her life... I don't know if I canwatch her repeat Abhira's mistake."

Muskan: "Exactly. We promised Kaira freedom, notanother cycle of trauma and domestic chaos. If Aaryan is just 'another Armaan'hiding behind a clever suit, we need to save her now. We need to seriously reconsiderthis alliance. There are other ways to defeat the Poddars without sacrificingour daughter’s happiness to that messy, toxic family."

Kairav put his hand over hers, a decision silently made.Protecting Kaira from emotional damage outweighed the political convenience ofthe marriage.

In the relative quiet of the Poddar home, the air was thickwith defeat and silent accusation.

Abhira was seated alone in the massive living room, unableto move to her own quarters. Her mind was caught in a continuous, agonizingloop of Muskan and Kairav's dismissive voices.

Abhira (Whispering, her hands tightly gripping her knees): "Irrelevant.Doesn't hold prestige. Forgotten.I am maha sad"

The words had stripped her bare. She had spent a decadedefending the Sharma name, viewing it as the shield of her father's pure love.But the Goenkas had dismissed that love and that choice as meaninglesssentimentality, forcing her to realize: in their world, her entire foundationwas invisible.

She felt not just anger, but the cold trauma of knowing thather own powerful family considered her father's legacy the source of heridentity to be an embarrassing footnote.

Upstairs, Vidya lay stiffly in bed, the lights still on. Shewas still wearing the expensive, heavy jewelry she had worn to the event. Herface was pale, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears of wounded pride andfear.

Madhav, looking tired and defeated, sat beside her, gentlyrubbing her shoulder.

Madhav: "Vidya, please. Natak band karo,sach hi bola usne."

Vidya (Her voice a raw, choked hiss): "She didn't justhurt me, Madhav. She went too far. In front of the entire city! She brought upthe one thing... the one thing Maa saand I buried deeper than the grave! Shecalled Armaan 'chori ka'! She implied that I participated in erasing... hisbirth mother."

Vidya turned her face into her pillow, unable to bear thepublic exposure of the family's darkest secret.

Vidya: "They know, Madhav. The Goenkas know everything.And they will use it to destroy us."

Later that night, back in her own quiet own room at GoenkaVilla, Ruhi sat beside Daksh's bed. The recent confrontations Armaan’sself-pity, the Goenka’s cold dismissal of the Sharma name had left heremotionally drained.

She hummed a soft tune, stroking Daksh’s hair until hisbreathing deepened into the steady rhythm of sleep. Once assured he wassettled, she rose and moved to her walk-in closet.

She pulled out a crisp, expensive suit. Ruhi, now aformidable professional involved in the Goenka family’s international legal andbusiness affairs, knew the importance of presentation.

She hadn't been to the Birla Mansion in three years. MeetingHarshvardhan (Dada) and Manjari (Dida) was always an exercise in patience, eventhough their affection for her was absolute and unquestioned. They loved hercompletely, making her a safe harbour in the family's endless drama.Harshvardhan’s theatrical cruelty was legendary, but it was always directedoutward at Akshara, at the "tuntuna bajanewali," at anyone he deemedscientifically or intellectually beneath him.

I am Ruhi Birla , she mentally rehearsed, smoothingthe silk lining of her jacket. I am their granddaughter, the one they adore.I can withstand an hour of 'Piya Tose Naina Laage Re' taunts and 'panauti'lectures.

She knew the visit was a necessity a chance to maintain avital link to her late father, Neil’s, family and their institutional power.She would need every ounce of her professional composure for the visittomorrow, not to defend herself, but to simply survive her eccentric, lovinggrandfather's exaggerated judgment of everyone else.

The gleaming, minimalist white marble of the Birla Mansion’smain atrium felt like walking into a high-end heart hospital.

Ruhi, elegant and composed in her power suit, walked in withDaksh, who was examining the abstract steel sculpture in the corner with acritic's eye.

Seated in a state-of-the-art ergonomic chair near a massive,sunlit window was Harshvardhan Birla, looking impeccably haughty. Though he andManjari were now of the age of Naksh and Kirti, his energy was that of aperpetually dissatisfied CEO. Manjari Birla, traditional as ever, wasmeticulously arranging marigolds near a small, modern temple structure.

Ruhi (Approaching politely, feeling the warmth of their lovefor her): "Dida, Dadu. Namaste. Daksh and I just came to check on youafter the event last night."

Harsh lowered his transparent screen and squinted at Ruhi.

Harshvardhan: "Ah, Ruhi. My sensible girl. You looksharp. Now, about that NGCC event... They are celebrating a cultural center,but what did they really celebrate? The Akshara Goenka School of Music! Goodgrief. The only thing worse than a useless doctor is a tuntuna bajanewali whoencourages noise pollution."

Manjari stopped arranging the marigolds, her face tighteningwith a familiar, bitter distaste for the name.

Manjari (Her voice flat, tinged with regret):"Harshvardhanji, there is no need to bring up that name. The womanis gone, and her trauma is history."

Harshvardhan seized on her dismissive tone, his eyeslighting up with theatrical malice as he prepared to mock her poor judgment.

Harshvardhan (Snapping his head toward her, eyes wide withexaggerated horror): "Ah, 'history'! Manjari, I thought you hadconveniently forgotten that history! Badi jaldi bhool gayi? You were such a staunch, nauseating supporter of her… her 'melodies,' as you called them, foryears!"

He shot his hand up, adopting a ridiculously theatricalposture, and began singing—off-key and with utterly dramatic handmovements—staring directly at Manjari to taunt her for her previous loyalty tothe "enemy."

Harshvardhan (Wailing loudly, dramatically pointing atManjari): "🎶 Piya Tose Naina LaageRe! 🎶 Haaye Oh, the hours we spent enduring thatmelodrama! You and your beloved tuntuna-bahu singing those endless, tearfulduets in this very house! Aap toh usse Devi ki tarah poojti thi! I tell you, Ihad to triple the soundproofing in my study just to protect my cognitivefunctions from your poor, poor choice of bahu and music taste! That wasan auditory crime, Manjari!"

Harshvardhan then leaned back, his expression turning sourlydramatic, addressing Ruhi as if she were an auditor reviewing a defectiveinventory.

Harshvardhan: "Forget the music, Ruhi. Let's talk aboutthe quantifiable evidence! The medical charts! You see, that tuntuna bajanewaliwas not just a source of terrible singing; she was a medical calamity!"

He counted on his fingers with manic precision.

Harshvardhan: "First, Anisha—gone after being caught inher silence! Then, Neil—my own son, gone because she dragged him into herheroics without police backup! Then, our chief surgeon, Abhimanyu, gone in alandslide on her wedding day! And, finally, my poor daughter-in-law, Aarohi,gone too!"

He shuddered, then pointed an accusatory finger, his voiceescalating into a horrified lament.

Harshvardhan: "And the one who survived thechaos—Abhir! My grandson! Did he use that second chance to become a cardiac surgeon, to honor his father's medical legacy? No! He followed the panauti'spath! He became a rock-and-roll singer! A noise maker! As if the curse of the tuntuna was hereditary! It's an insult to the entire medical profession.Dr Birla ka beta is a genetic downgrade!"

Harshvardhan had collapsed back into his ergonomic chair,wailing softly over the hereditary curse of the tuntuna.

It was at this moment that Daksh, tired of being a silentwitness to his great-grandfather’s dramatic trauma, piped up brightly, lookingup from the steel sculpture.

Daksh (In his clear, internationally schooled voice):"Don't worry, Dadaji! I won't be a tuntuna maker like Abhir Mama.I am going to be a doctor! A brilliant one! Like Bade Dadu and Nani was, and like Shivansh Mamu is!"

The effect was instantaneous and electrifying. Harshvardhanstopped mid-wail, his despair dissolving into ecstatic pride. He shot upright,looking at Daksh with the adoration usually reserved for a gold-plated stockcertificate.

Harshvardhan (Leaning forward, his face absolutely beaming):"Haaye! Mera bachcha! See, Manjari? See the difference? That is pure Birlaintellect and genetic superiority speaking! The medical lineage is preserved!The curse has skipped a generation!"

He reached out and pulled Daksh into a tight, dramatic hug.

Harshvardhan: "You, my precious great-grandson, willsave this family's reputation! You will be a heart surgeon! No, wait, a neurosurgeon!No noise! Only silence, precision, and the beautiful, beautiful sound of aperfect six-figure consultation fee! I knew raising you was the best decision,Ruhi! Pure genius!"

Manjari offered a small, fond smile, relieved that thefamily's newest generation had managed to steer clear of Harshvardhan's currentlist of acceptable family disasters.

Ruhi smiled warmly at the immediate, theatrical adorationDaksh received. This was the unconditional, chaotic Birla love that madesurviving their criticism of everyone else just about tolerable.

Harshvardhan was still busy dramatically blessing Daksh’sfuture surgical hands. Manjari, seizing the small window of calm, moved closerto Ruhi, offering a genuine, warm smile—the one reserved for the family membersshe truly cherished.

Manjari (Speaking in a soft, normal tone, providing theessential updates): "He is such a bright boy, Ruhi. It’s lovely to seeyou. Don’t mind his Bade Dada; he’s justdoing his usual shokh (hobby) of performance art."

She gently touched Ruhi's arm.

Manjari: "Everything here is very steady. Shivansh isdoing marvelously as a heart surgeon; he and Vaani are running those chaotictwins, Jiya and Riya, ragged. Those two are quite the handful, but bright,thank God."

Manjari: "And Nishtha is finally settled. She’s asuccessful child specialist now, managing her own practice with Arvind handlingall the administration for the main hospital—you know how busy he keeps thefinance side. Their daughter, Mrinalini, is already studying gynecology atAIIMS in Delhi. That generation is all business and medicine, thankgoodness."

She lowered her voice slightly.

Manjari: "It was a disaster losing Anandvardhan,Mahima, and Parth in that crash, but Shefali is doing well. She is focused onher career and is now the Editor. Everyone is moving forward, Ruhi. Just a bitquieter now."

Ruhi nodded, absorbing the functional, positive report. TheBirlas might be dramatic, but they were efficient, always prioritizing careerand medicine, which was exactly the stability she valued.

Harshvardhan had just finished his dramatic adulation ofDaksh’s future neurosurgical career. He released the boy and straightened hisexpensive jacket, instantly shifting from doting great-grandfather tocalculating medical CEO.

Harshvardhan (His voice becoming serious and clinical):"Excellent. Now, Ruhi, a slight change of topic, but strictlyprofessional. We have heard quite a lot about your cousin, Dr. Kaira Goenka."

Ruhi tensed slightly, knowing any conversation about aGoenka in this house was high-risk.

Ruhi: "Yes, Dada? Kaira is doing very well with herprivate practice."

Harshvardhan (Scoffing slightly, but acknowledging thefacts): "Doing well? She’s a financial miracle! Her revenue streams areastonishing. I had my administration run the numbers—her Dr. Kaira's Hair andSkin Centre is grossing more than some of our satellite clinics! Badi shatirladki hai."

He tapped a precise rhythm on his desk, his medical mindworking quickly.

Harshvardhan: "Her cosmetic and aesthetic practice istop-tier. We need that profile. Birla Hospital needs a high-end CosmeticDermatology Division—it's a massive untapped market for our elite clientele. Tellme, Ruhi: Given her success, do you think Dr. Kaira would consider joining the BirlaHospital as a Consultant? We could offer her an absurd compensation package anda corner office with a better view than the Chief of Cardiology."

He lifted a single eyebrow, his challenge clear: would Kairachoose the financial freedom of her clinic or the ultimate prestige of theBirla name?

Harshvardhan: "Despite the... tragic musicallineage she shares with others (he glanced pointedly at Manjari), she isundeniably a world-class professional. Does she have any interest in upgradingher 'aesthetic centre' to the official Birla standard of excellence? Think ofthe prestige, Ruhi."

Ruhi held his gaze, knowing this was a key piece ofinformation to take back to Kairav and Muskan.

Ruhi: "I can ask, Dada. Kaira is very focused on herindependence, but I will certainly convey the offer."

The atmosphere inside Dr. Kaira's Hair and Skin Centre was adeliberate exercise in aesthetic calm. The walls were textured charcoal andsoft cream, illuminated by hidden strip lighting that gave everything aflattering glow. The air was cool, scented with a precise blend of sandalwoodand tea tree oil, masking any clinical smells. Every surface—from the quartzreception desk to the leather seating—spoke of quiet, expensive confidence.

Kaira herself emerged from the laser treatment wing,spotless in her custom-tailored white coat. She had just completed a trickysession, and the professional adrenaline was still humming beneath her calmexterior.

Kaira (Reviewing a chart with her head nurse, her voice calmand precise): "Increase the depth on the fractional setting for Ms.Sharma's next session. Her collagen response is excellent, but we need totarget the sub-dermal layer aggressively. And confirm the appointment for thenew CEO of Mittal Corp tomorrow morning; he needs the microneedling done beforethe market opens."

She moved towards the reception area, which functioned withflawless efficiency. The lead receptionist, Meera, was handling three linessimultaneously with a tranquil smile.

Kaira (Pausing at the desk, offering a genuine smile):"Meera, the schedule flow today was perfect. Great work."

Meera: "Thank you, Dr. Kaira. We just try to keep upwith your demand! Mrs. Singhania complimented the new eye cream sample you gaveher."

Kaira nodded, pleased. She glanced at a tiered shelf nearthe back, stacked with sleek, minimalist bottles—her own exclusive,high-efficacy skincare line.

Kaira: "That reminds me. It’s been a high-stress week,and you all deserve a little compensation beyond your bonuses."

She turned to Meera and the two other staff memberspresent—a therapist and a junior nurse—her hands sweeping toward the productshelf.

Kaira: "Take whatever you need. The Vitamin C Elixirfor radiance, the Repair Night Cream for recovery. Everything up there isyours. Consider it mandatory self-care. I expect my team to look just aspristine as my clients."

The staff members exchanged delighted, grateful glances.These products retailed for exorbitant amounts, reflecting Kaira's dedicationto quality.

Therapist: "Thank you so much, ma'am! The Night Creamis magical."

Kaira (Giving a brief, professional nod): "It'seffective. Now, I need to review tomorrow's inventory. I'll be in my office. Ifthe Mittal call comes in, patch it directly."

Kaira walked away, leaving behind a brief burst of warmthand generosity. In her Centre, she was the ultimate authority—a self-madesuccess earning crazy amounts, proving that her intelligence and ambition werebest channeled into a field where results were visible, measurable, andentirely dependent on her skill, not on family politics.

Later that afternoon, the quiet hum of professionalism inthe clinic faded as Kaira retreated to her private office. She opened herlaptop and navigated to the business dashboard.

The screen glowed, displaying the current financial overviewof Dr. Kaira's Hair and Skin Centre.

Kaira took a sip of her artisanal organic green tea. Sheglanced at the Total Balance figure and immediately choked, spraying a finemist of jasmine-scented tea onto her monitor.

She quickly grabbed a sterile wipe and leaned in, rereadingthe astronomical number.

Kaira (Eyes wide, speaking to her reflection in the darkscreen): "What in the tax evasion hell is this? Did Mrs.Shikarwataccidentally pay with her entire Swiss account for that one freckleconsultation?"

She zoomed in, verifying the figures. It was all real. Itwas an astonishing number, far surpassing any reasonable target. The revenuewas entirely the result of catering to the micro-insecurities of the elite.

A sudden, wide, almost maniacal grin broke across Kaira'sface.

Kaira (Clutching her chest dramatically): "Oh, my God.I am bathing in liquid gold! This is what you get when you charge a five-figuresum just to tell a maharani that her skin is 'epidermally adequate'! My mehnat(hard work) paid off, lekin iss mehnat mein toh paagalpan ki royalty bhi shamilhai!

She punched the air softly.

Kaira: "I should send Rani sa a thank-you note! Ekmillimetre freckle ki itni high value? I think I might actually start believingin cosmetic miracles! With this kind of money, I don't need Aaryan or thePoddar alliance; I could buy the whole Poddar Mansion and turn it into a Catand Dogs rejuvenation spa!"

She threw her head back and let out a single, sharp burst oflaughter.

Then, just as quickly, she slapped her hands onto the desk,smoothing her perfect coat. She inhaled deeply, straightening her expressionback into the mask of the calm, calculating doctor.

Kaira (To her laptop, sternly): "Okay, Ms. Kaira.Compose yourself. That money is for acquisition and expansion. No morelaughing. Now, let’s see the quarterly reports on the anti-aging serum, that’swhere the real paise ka sukoon is."

The Palatial Goenka Diamonds office, located on the highestfloor of the Goenka tower, was a study in cold, reflective power. Late eveninglight cast long shadows over the highly polished mahogany table where Kairavand Muskan sat. The city skyline was their silent witness.

Kairav had just finished reviewing the financial andpersonal background reports—including Ruhi’s indirect feedback about the Poddarenvironment.

Kairav (Closing the file with a decisive snap): "Thedecision is made, Muskan. We are not proceeding with the marriage."

Muskan (Her face set in hard lines): "Absolutely not.The risk assessment is catastrophic. We chose Aaryan for his mind, but hisfamily’s toxicity is genetic. He is not a clever asset; he is a contaminatedproduct. He is 'another Armaan,' and we will not sacrifice Kaira to that cycleof deception and chaos again."

Muskan leaned forward, her hands resting on the cool surfaceof the table. Her protective instincts, usually channeled into business, werenow entirely focused on her niece.

Muskan: "Lekin hum seedhe-seedhe mana nahin kar sakteKaira needs to make this decision herself. She is marrying Aaryan for areason—to prove she is strong enough to control her life. If we simply 'rescue'her, she will resent us. She needs to see his reality."

Kairav (A grim smile touching his lips, recognizing thenecessity of the performance): "So, the alliance goes forward... as a natak(drama/act). We will use the engagement to smoke him out."

Muskan: "Exactly. We will go to the Poddars, act likewe are desperate for this union, and push the preparations aggressively. Thepressure will be immense. Wohi pressure Aaryan ko tod dega. His true, weak,Poddar-like flaws will surface. His controlling nature, his insecurity everythingwe noticed but ignored."

Kairav raised his hand in a slow, solemn gesture, mirroringhis wife.

Kairav: "We will give her the evidence. We will makehim reveal the monster we suspect is hiding inside. And when Kaira sees it, shewill not need us to tell her to walk away. Woh khud Aaryan ko apni zindagi seeject karegi.”

Muskan (Her voice hardening with the final vow): "Kasoorsirf uska hi nahin hoga, Kairav The fault will be in his bloodline. This natakstarts tomorrow. No more sentimentality. We are protecting our family."

The two most powerful members of the Goenka family hadreached an agreement. They would initiate a full-scale covert operation,turning Kaira’s engagement into a controlled experiment designed to expose thefiancé and secure their daughter's freedom.

😂😂😂 harshu is my fav ..he perhaps read ak really well

So they are not in touch with abir 😅 ..so they still have some soft corner for ruhi and they did love aru

I will I could c harshu roast ab 😂 sometime ..

What kaira parents are thinking is right as parents ..let's c if aryan comes thru ..I hope he does for kaira sake

Will c how all this plays out 😅😂