Maithili was peacefully sipping her evening tea when a storm entered the living room.

"Mom! Where is Dad?"

Hriday's voice was sharp, controlled—but burning underneath.

Maithili looked up at her son's tense face.

"Why? He left for office with you. How would I know where he is?" she asked calmly.

"Mom, do you know what Dad did?"

He was trying very hard not to sound disrespectful.

Maithili raised an eyebrow.

"What did Shikhar do this time?"

She wasn't surprised. Arguments between father and son over business decisions were common. She and Harshavardhan were usually the peacekeepers.

"He gave one of our major properties under an orphanage name," Hriday said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "Like seriously, Mom. That land was extremely profitable."

"Calm down first. Sit. Have water."

She handed him a glass.

"Mom, do you even know how much that land cost?"

"Hriday," she said firmly, "stop getting hyper."

Just then—

"What happened?"

Shikhar's composed voice entered the room.

Hriday stood up immediately.

"Dad."

"Yes, Hriday? You look tense."

"Dad, how could you just give that important land to an orphanage?"

"Hriday," Maithili intervened softly, "talk politely."

He exhaled sharply.

"Sorry, Dad. Sorry, Mom."

Shikhar studied his son for a moment.

"Sit. Let me explain."

"No need, Dad," Hriday said quickly. "Everything I have is yours and Dadaji's. You don't owe me an explanation."

"Hriday, listen first. I know why you're angry."

Hriday looked down.

Everyone in the family knew about his temper. But they also knew something else—

He never disrespected his elders.

Especially not his father.

Shikhar wasn't just his father.

He was his mentor. His friend.

Hriday had rushed home to confront him, but at the office he had already clashed with an employee. That frustration had carried over.

"Dad, I—"

"Hriday," Shikhar interrupted gently but firmly, "since childhood you've been pampered. And sometimes that makes you so self-focused that you forget others exist."

"Shikhar!" Maithili warned softly.

"Mom, please," Hriday said quietly. "Let Dad speak. Whatever he does, he does for the right reasons. I trust him."

Shikhar glanced at Maithili.

"I'm not scolding him. I'm correcting him—as a father."

Maithili sighed.

"Fine. I'm going inside. You two will patch up in five minutes anyway."

She carried her tea and left for their room.

Shikhar motioned Hriday toward the study.

They closed the door. He didn't want servants overhearing.

"Sit," Shikhar said.

Hriday sat across from him.

"Now tell me, Dad. Why did you have to give that specific land? You could've donated something else."

Shikhar leaned back slightly.

"That land was your Dadi's wish."

Hriday froze.

"You remember how your Dadi was," Shikhar continued softly. "Gentle. Kind. When she once visited this city with Papa, she saw poor children begging near that area. She told Papa she wanted to build something for them."

Hriday listened silently.

"Papa bought that land in her name. But due to political pressure back then, the orphanage was never built. When your Dadi passed away... that wish remained incomplete."

Shikhar's voice lowered.

"I came here this time to fulfill it."

Silence filled the room.

Hriday's anger dissolved into guilt.

"Dad... I didn't know it was Dadi's wish," he said quietly. "I'm sorry for my behavior."

Shikhar smiled faintly.

"It's alright. I know you're a strong decision-maker. But strength without empathy becomes arrogance. Learn to balance both."

Hriday nodded slowly.

"I will."

Shikhar stood up and placed a firm hand on his son's shoulder.

He worried about Hriday's aggression sometimes.

But he also knew—

His son had a good heart.

It just needed guidance.

"My work here is done," Shikhar said casually. "Your mother and I are taking tomorrow's flight back."

Hriday looked up.

"So soon?"

Shikhar gave him a knowing smile and walked out of the study, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

For the first time that evening—

Hriday wasn't thinking about profit.

He was thinking about legacy.