_K A I R A_

The alarm buzzed for the eighth time. I finally slammed my hand down to silence it, groaning as I forced myself out of bed .

Minutes later, with a steaming cup of coffee in hand, I stepped out onto the balcony of my Chicago apartment.

I absolutely despised early mornings, but looking out at the city bathed in that soft, golden dawn glow almost made the lack of sleep worth it.

I popped in my AirPods, effectively shutting out the rest of the world. I used to hate running, but over the last few years, the pavement had become my therapy...a hard habit.

By the time I finished my loop and grabbed some groceries from the local Asian market down the street, I was finally heading back inside.

"Good morning, Princess."

The voice was incredibly groggy, drifting over from my couch.

Ashley. My best friend was currently sitting up, looking like a tangled mess of red hair and freckles. She looked entirely too cute for someone suffering from a hangover.

Yesterday had been a Sunday..our designated recharge day, which had somehow evolved into a late night drinking session. Naturally, I ended up playing chauffeur and carrying her back to my place.

"Stop calling me Princess," I muttered, setting down the groceries and switching on the electric kettle to warm up some water for her. "And you slept at my apartment. Again."

"Which is exactly why I keep saying we should just move in together!"

I rolled my eyes, handing her a mug. "Come on, get up. I actually have to work today."

"Ugh. Corporate life. Sounds thrilling," she mocked playfully, pulling her oversized hoodie over her head. "Oh, by the way... your phone was ringing forever. From India, I think."

"India?" My heart did a sudden, uncomfortable flip.

I snatched my phone off the couch, where it had been buried under a cushion for god knows how long.

Two missed calls. Shanaya Raisinghania.

Shanaya Dii. My elder cousin, and honestly, the only person from my extended family I still felt genuinely close to.

"I'll call her back later," I told Ashley, watching her gulp down the warm water before setting the mug down with a soft thud.

.

.

.

Once Ashley gathered her things and left, I quickly showered, getting ready in sharp office attire, and started my day . Driving through the crowded streets of Chicago was a test of patience, but it gave my mind something to focus on besides that missed call.

Miller & Co.

It was one of the most prestigious corporate firms in the city, and I had been grinding away on their legal team for the past two years, fresh out of NYU Law.

Corporate law was grueling, but it was exciting. At least for me.

I offered a quick round of good mornings to my team before logging into my station.

The morning flew by in a blur of contracts and compliance reviews.

By afternoon, I was sitting in the bustling office cafeteria with my teammates ..Ben, Martha, and Paxton, when I finally decided to return the call.

The phone barely rang twice before her face popped up on the screen.

"Well, look who finally decided to grace me with her presence! Miss Corporate herself," Shanaya Dii chimed, her face instantly lighting up the video feed.

"Adult life struggles, Dii," I pouted, leaning back in my chair as she gave an understanding nod.

"Okay, guess what's happening...?" she asked, biting her lip to hide a massive grin. She looked like she was practically vibrating with excitement.

"Uh... you got promoted? Neil spoke his first words? Don't tell me Grandma finally passed down the family heirlooms?" I guessed, throwing out possibilities.

"No, no, and no! Think bigger, Kaira!"

"A promotion is big!" I argued.

Shanaya Dii suddenly went still, looking at me dead in the eye through the camera. "Bitch, I'm getting hitched."

I instantly choked on my salad. Across the table, Ben's eyes went wide as he quickly slid his water bottle toward me. I grabbed it, taking a desperate gulp while coughing.

"Excuse me," I wheezed to my teammates, hastily grabbing my phone and standing up. I needed space for this.

I hurried out of the noisy cafeteria into a quieter, secluded hallway. "Tell me everything! Who? When? Wait... is it forced? Because you can literally run away and come stay with me!" I said, entirely breathless.

On the screen, Shanaya covered her mouth, letting out a loud laugh.

"It's an arranged match, yes, but he's actually wonderful, Kaira," she assured me.

"I don't believe you. Is he another business tycoon?"

"Yes. And the engagement is next month," she informed me.

I took a breath, letting the initial shock settle. "Wow. Congratulations, Dii. Truly. I'm so happy for you."

"You should come, yar," she said softly. Her cheerful tone dropped a few octaves, replaced by something much more vulnerable. "I really want you to be at my wedding."

"Dii..." I sighed heavily, a familiar weight dropping into the pit of my stomach.

I hadn't been back to India, back to my own country, since the day I was sent away. Not once. Shanaya Dii had flown out to visit me three times. Grandpa had come a few times, too. But me going back there? I didn't think I had it in me.

"You missed Shaan Bhaiya's wedding because your graduation fell on the exact same week," she reminded me, her voice turning pleading. "But you have to come for mine."

"Dii, you don't understand how complicated it is," I tried to protest.

"If you don't come..." She gave me her most appealing look, a glassy eyed pout, her lower lip trembling artificially. "I won't walk down the aisle. I mean it."

"That is literal emotional blackmail."

"You are coming. I'm sending you the tickets."

"Dii, listen to me.."

But one look at her teary eyed expression, and my defenses immediately crumbled. I was sent to America with the unspoken expectation that I would never return.

"Please come, yar," she pleaded one last time, her voice cracking slightly. "Everyone acts tough, but we miss you. Dadu, Dadi... even Shivani Aunty..."

I closed my eyes. "I'll... I'll check my schedule and let you know."

"Wait, you agreed?!"

"I said I will consider it."

"Kaira, come back home," she whispered softly before the call ended.

Don't fold, Kaira, the voice in my head warned fiercely. You built a life here in the States. You survived. Mumbai was just a city, a past life. Going back is a terrible, terrible idea.

A month later....

"The flight has successfully landed in Mumbai. Have a great day,"

the flight attendant's voice crackled over the speakers as the collective click of unfastening seatbelts echoed through the cabin.

Mumbai. Home. Finally.

The moment I stepped out of Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj International Airport, the heavy humidity hit me like a physical wall. It brought with it the familiar, forgotten cocktail of salty air, hot asphalt, relentless honking, and the chaotic, comforting blend of Hindi and Marathi drifting through the crowd.

The airport had changed significantly since I was last here twelve years ago. It was funny, actually.

Twelve years.

When I left...or rather, when my grandfather sent me away to the USA...I was a child.

Now, after a decade abroad covering the major milestones of my life..high school graduation, university, and an NYU law degree, I was back.

Returning to my motherland was never part of the plan. I had a good life and a promising career lined up in the States.

But my cousin, Shanaya, was getting married, and when the family called,

Mind you 'family' being the importance word. Even if it scares you.

Mumbai had grown taller, sleeker, and cleaner, but the traffic? Unchanged. I waited near the pickup station, clutching my bags. Dadu had promised he would send someone for me.

But after thirty minutes of standing alone under the blazing sun, I gave up and flagged down a cab. It was the exact same driver I had rejected minutes earlier because 'someone was picking me up.' He gave me a judgmental look before asking for double the price.

I didn't argue. Being ignored and left waiting was practically a personality trait of mine by now anyway.

As the cab crawled through the city, my thoughts spun backward to the day everything changed.

Twelve years ago, my entire world had shrunk to a single, devastating moment. I took a deep breath, forcing my eyes open to stare out the window, hoping the external chaos of Mumbai's streets would drown out my inner spiral. It didn't. It never did.

To distract myself, I wondered how they would react to seeing me.

For twelve years, my relationship with them had been reduced to scheduled video calls on birthdays and anniversaries.

I didn't blame them; time zones and busy corporate lives made it easy to forget the exile.

Only Grandpa and Grandma called every fortnight, conversations that invariably consisted of Grandma saying I looked 'too thin' and Grandpa saying America had 'whitewashed' me.

I missed the childhood before the storm.

Maa oiling and braiding my hair for school. Papa always taking my and Kavya di's side in minor household arguments, forming a grand alliance against Maa and my little brother, Krish.

Kavya, my elder sister by three years, used to be my best friend. We would sneak into the kitchen at midnight to steal ice cream and gush over boy bands.

And Krish..?

Four years younger than me, was my partner in crime.

I smiled softly, remembering the time we hid a fake lizard in Kavya's schoolbag. She didn't speak to us for forty...eight hours, two entire days. Only to break her silence by cooking a giant bowl of noodles for the three of us.

Twelve years, and I was still surviving on the crumbs of those memories.

Because those were the only things that now belonged to me.

Memories, which somehow always reminded me of the life I had lost. Something in the past which always made my heart clench.

What would it take to go back in time and maybe fix the things ...?

When the cab finally pulled into the Raisinghania Estate on the city's outskirts, the air turned slightly cooler.

The estate looked different...greener, highly polished, and far more intimidating than I remembered.

The first person I ran into upon entering was Badi Maa, Rima Malhotra Raisinghania. The wife of my eldest uncle, she hailed from a powerful political family and carried herself with an icy elegance.

"You have grown too much," she remarked coolly, her hand briefly brushing my hair before she turned and walked away toward her side of the estate.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked around.

The estate was structurally divided into five separate wings, a physical manifestation of our family hierarchy.

All five families lived entirely separate lives, connecting only during mandatory Sunday lunches and Wednesday evening teas in the common dining area.

I glanced toward the East Wing.

That belonged to my eldest uncle, Bade Papa , Nikhil Raisinghania.....the acting chairman of the family's massive trading business and the man who held all the power when Grandpa was away.

He and Badi Maa had two children: Shaan bhaiya, who was married, and Shanaya, the bride to be. They sat comfortably at the top of the family hierarchy. The omnivores.

My eyes drifted to the South Wing,

home to my aunt, Nikita, and her husband, Dr. Dev Sharma.

Together, they ran the ultra.luxurious Raisinghania Hospital group, catering to Bollywood elites and politicians. Their daughter, Maya, was already a resident doctor there, while their son, Mihir, my age, was busy wasting his youth, according to family gossip.

The carnivores.

Then there was the West Wing, overseen by my youngest uncle, Nirav, and his wife, Jyoti.

They managed the family's department store empire. Their daughter, Prisha, was the baby of the family, currently studying chemical engineering.

They were the Primary Consumers of the family heirarchy.

The end of the corridor opened up into the estate's central wing...the true heart of the house, belonging entirely to my grandparents.

In our world, they were the primary producers, the ones who pulled every single string.

This wing housed the massive formal dining hall, the main living area, dedicated lounges for both guests and staff, and a personal home theater.

But tucked away at the very end was the most significant room in the entire house..Grandpa's private office.

It was a highly secured fortress. The security protocols were so strict that even family members were banned from crossing the threshold..Grandma herself wasn't allowed inside without permission.

I had only been there once. It was years ago, when Krish and I were just kids caught up in a stupid game of hide and seek.

The memory of Grandpa being so angry at that was still vivid .....the scolding we received was terrifying.

He claimed the room contained highly sensitive, confidential corporate documents.

But as a lawyer, and as someone who knew how this family operated, I didn't entirely buy that story anymore. There had to be something else hidden behind those locked doors. Something much bigger than paperwork. That kind of security didn't just protect secrets...it protected sins.

And finally, I looked toward our wing. The forgotten wing.

We stood in the bottommost position in the family hierarchy. Or even worse, we didn't belong anymore in that pyramid.

It belonged to my father, Naman Raisinghania. 'Was' being the operative word, because he was no longer here. After his passing, my mother, Shivani, had checked out of the family corporate wars entirely, showing zero interest in the legacy.

She lived there with Kavya, who had become a fashion designer, and Krish, who was currently studying the same. Unlike the rest of the Raisinghania's, my immediate family held no power, no corporate titles, and no leverage.

I, Kaira Raisinghania, had returned to this web of power and secrets with nothing but a law degree from NYU and twelve years of exile fueling my steps.

I took a deep breath and walked inside.

Welcome back to the family politics you exiled princess. I told myself.

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I am so very eager

to know your first impressions upon the story. Their might be mistakes but Let them slide.

I know the family is too big to remember but trust me, every character holds an important place in the story.

Kindly vote and comment!!!