As I leaned back in my leather chair, my gaze swept over the shimmering cityscape sprawled out before me.

The glow of the lights wasn't just a sign of prosperity; it was a testament to the years of hard work and dedication that had led me here.

I didn't simply inherit success; I was the culmination of generations of relentless effort.

My grandfather had started with a humble textile shop in a small town, driven by dreams that seemed almost impossible.

With grit and determination, he laid the foundation of what would become Tanwar Textile.

Then my father took the reins, expanding that foundation and introducing innovative practices that transformed our family business into a respected name in the industry.

Each generation built upon the last, carving a path through challenges and setbacks.

Pride swelled within me as I looked out at the vibrant city. This wasn't an overnight success story; it was a narrative steeped in perseverance, sleepless nights, and unwavering belief.

It was about sacrifices made in the name of ambition, lessons learned from failures, and the relentless pursuit of excellence.

I carry their dreams. The weight of my family's legacy rests on my shoulders, and every thread woven into Tanwar Textile echoes their commitment and resilience.

I am more than just the CEO; I am the torchbearer of a rich history, tasked with carrying it forward.

With a deep breath, I turned back to my tablet, ready to tackle the next challenge. The road ahead would be demanding, but I was determined to honor the legacy of my grandfather and father while continuing to innovate and expand.

I was deeply immersed in reviewing the latest financial reports, each number requiring my full attention. These documents were critical to our next quarter's strategy, and I didn't have time for distractions.

Then came the knock.

My jaw tightened. I hated interruptions during working hours-everyone knew that. Arush, my assistant, stepped in, looking as if he had something urgent to share. Still, he was disturbing me, and that alone was enough to irritate me.

"Yes?" I asked, not looking up, my tone as sharp as the silence in the room. I expected him to have a good reason for interrupting.

Arush cleared his throat, hesitating just a moment before speaking. "Sir, your grandmother is here from Bagru village. She wants you to come home."

I paused, surprised. My grandmother rarely visited Jaisalmer. In fact, she only ever came if something was important-extremely important. What could possibly bring her here now?

I set the documents aside, my mind racing with questions. But beneath the curiosity, there was a hint of excitement.

It had been years since I'd last seen her, and the thought of meeting her again, even if unexpected, felt oddly comforting.

"Alright," I said, rising from my desk. Whatever this was about, I'd find out soon enough.

As I walked into the house, there she was-my grandmother, Tarini Tanwar. Even at around seventy-five, her presence was as strong as ever.

Her face radiated a quiet strength, almost as bright as the sun, with eyes that seemed to miss nothing.

In our family, she was the decision-maker, a figure of wisdom and authority. In Bagru, she was known as the godmother of the village, someone everyone deeply respected. But it wasn't out of fear or arrogance; no, my grandmother was neither harsh nor intimidating.

She was disciplined and expected the same of others, but beneath that, she was a gentle soul, warm and caring.

Seeing her here reminded me of the strength that ran in our blood-a reminder that, no matter what, family came first.

I loved her deeply, with a respect rooted in every lesson she'd taught me over the years. She wasn't just my grandmother; she was my guide, the anchor of our family.

Her decisions were final, and I couldn't imagine ever refusing her wishes. Saying no to her felt impossible-every word she spoke carried the weight of wisdom and care.

She was seated in the hall with my mother, father, and sister, her presence filling the room with a quiet strength. I walked over and bent down to touch her feet, a gesture of respect I never skipped.

She pulled me into a warm hug, and for a moment, I felt a wave of emotion rise within me.

Once I settled beside her, I couldn't help but ask, "Dadi Sa, if you wanted to visit, you should have told me. I would've come to bring you here. Why did you come alone?"

She smiled, patting my hand gently. "My dear son, I'm not here alone," she said, her voice as comforting as ever. "Tara is with me. She's more like a daughter than anything else-she never leaves me alone."

I glanced around, noticing Tara now standing quietly nearby, offering a small nod of acknowledgment. It was typical of her, always by Dadi Sa's side, as loyal as family.

"As for the journey," my grandmother continued, her gaze meeting mine with a seriousness that caught my attention, "I came without any trouble, but with an important reason."

Something about her tone made me sit up a little straighter. Whatever had brought her here wasn't ordinary. Dadi Sa didn't travel without a purpose.

My mother , Diksha tanwar spoke up, her voice gentle. "Maa Sa, you must be tired from the journey. Please, have some food and rest, and then we can talk."

My sister , Twisha chimed in eagerly, "Yes, Dadi Sa! I want to eat from your hands-it's been so long. I missed you so much."

But Dadi Sa held her ground, her gaze steady. "I'll do all that, my loves, but first, I need to discuss something important."

A quiet tension filled the room. My father, Suryakant Tanwar nodded, giving her the space to speak. "Alright, Maa Sa. If it's that important, then go ahead. We're listening."

Then came the words I dreaded most.

"I want Rudransh to get married soon."

I felt a jolt, my chest tightening. Marriage? It was the last thing on my mind, the last thing I wanted to think about.

She continued, "I know a respectful man named Jairaj Rawat. He owns a textile company and has been taking raw materials from our village for years. I want you to marry his daughter."

A wave of disbelief washed over me. My heart raced as I processed her words. There was no room for discussion; when Dadi Sa made a decision, it was final.

I was saying no to maa sa but how could I say no to Dadi Sa? Her eyes were filled with expectation, a gentle determination that was impossible to ignore.

I hated the word "love." The very idea felt foreign to me, an illusion that rarely led to happiness. How could anyone find joy being bound to someone they barely knew? It didn't make sense.

In my mind, love was a fairy tale, a concept meant for those who didn't understand reality. But now, with Dadi Sa's decree hanging over me, I had no choice.

Declining her order was simply not an option; everyone in our family knew that. With a heavy heart, I finally uttered the words I never wanted to say: "Yes."

Instantly, the atmosphere shifted. Excitement erupted around me. Maa Sa enveloped Dadi Sa in a warm hug, tears of joy glistening in her eyes. My father clasped my shoulder, pride evident on his face.

And my sister, Twisha, bounced up and down on the sofa like a four-year-old who had just received her favorite toy.

So, there it was. The bachelor of the year, Mr. Rudransh Tanwar, is getting married.

Hey doves..this is first glimpse of our male lead one and only Mr. Rudransh tanwar..

Do u all like him..??

Are u excited for our beautiful and bubbly Vanya..??

Show ur love and support ❤️

Stay tuned!!

Happy Dhanteras 🪔❤️