Location: Delhi, India
The private jet touched down at Delhi's Indira Gandhi International Airport under a hazy morning sky. Ivikaa stepped onto the tarmac, her heels clicking with purpose, yet her heart weighed down by concern. Maya followed, her phone already in hand, capturing the moment.
"Trading boardrooms for living rooms. Ivikaa's home, and the heart is full. 🏡 #HomeIsWhereTheHeartIs #FamilyOverEverything "
As they settled into their car, Ivikaa's phone buzzed sharply. Seeing Vayu's name flash on the screen, she answered with a smile.
"Vayu! I was just about to-"
"You're in Delhi?!" Vayu's voice was a mix of surprise and frustration. "I just saw your post."
Ivikaa's eyes widened, her gaze slowly turning to Maya, who was now pretending to be engrossed in her phone. The atmosphere in the car grew tense.
"I wanted it to be a surprise," Ivikaa said, her voice tight. "But it seems.. well I will be home soon."
Vayu's tone softened, a mix of excitement and longing evident. "I can't wait to see you. It's been too long."
Ivikaa's expression shifted, a blend of guilt and affection washing over her. "I'll be there soon," she whispered, ending the call.
Maya looked up, sensing the weight of Ivikaa's glare. "I thought it would be a nice touch," she murmured.
Ivikaa's expression was a blend of exasperation and disbelief. "Next time, let's coordinate before broadcasting my moves to the world."
The car curved into a narrow lane in South Delhi, where bougainvillaea spilled like pink fire over crumbling brick walls and hawkers shouted over the clamor of auto-rickshaws. Home, yet not quite. For Ivikaa, this was a place layered in nostalgia and noise - a sharp contrast to the pristine boardrooms of Paris and the silent ambition of high-rises.
The car continued its journey through Delhi's streets, the silence between the two women thick with unspoken words. Outside, the city moved on, unaware of the drama unfolding within the luxury vehicle.
Then footsteps echoed in the hallway, hurried and uncertain. As he reached the threshold of the living room, Vayu stopped.
A beat passed. Then another.
He turned, and without a word, wrapped Ivikaa in a hug so tight she forgot how to breathe for a moment. Not romantic, not restrained - just raw, real.
He held her like someone who had waited too long. Like a brother who had missed his sister.
Ivikaa froze, then slowly let herself return the embrace. His breath was shaky. "You came back."
"I did," she whispered.
Still holding her, his lashes wet and her eyes well too wet in a long time.
A familiar voice called out from behind them, laced with disbelief and fatigue.
"Iva?" The name hung heavy in the air.
Slowly, she pulled back from Vayu, her spine straightening as her eyes turned toward the hallway.
There he stood.
Virya.
His right hand was bandaged - the same injury she had seen in that photo Maya had shown her. But now, he looked... different. Sober. Virya stood still, utterly stunned. His lips parted but no words came. Ivikaa didn't speak.
She stepped toward him, slowly, deliberately.
One step.
Another.
Virya didn't move.
Then- crack.
Her hand struck his cheek with a sound that echoed off the old plastered walls. Sharp. Final.
The moment hung, suspended in shock.
Vayu didn't intervene. He was just enjoying the show.
Virya blinked, finally shaken from his daze, one hand rising instinctively to his face. "Iva-" he began.
"Don't," she said, voice like glass. "Don't say a word."
Maya had just stepped through the door. Her eyes widened. Her breath caught.Okay.
It's Iva for her family.
She can die for her family.
She can kill for her family.
And she can also kill her family.
The echo of the slap hadn't yet faded when a tear slipped from the corner of Virya's eye. Didn't wipe it away. He just stepped forward - slow, tentative, like he was approaching a flame he had no right to touch.
Ivikaa stood still, breath shallow, her eyes flickering with the embers of fury - but also fear.
And then, he hugged her. Not weakly. Not for show.Tightly. Like he was holding the only piece of himself still worth saving.
Her fists stayed clenched, her body rigid.
But then - she caved.
Ivikaa hugged him back. Arms locking around him.
She had been terrified -The slap was her only release.
Vayu leapt forward and threw his arms around both of them.
"Bas yaar, ab rona dhona band karo!" he laughed, voice cracking with tears of his own.
[Stop crying now.]
The hug turned messy, uncoordinated, tight. Siblings mashed together in a knot of limbs, grief, and sudden, unexpected laughter.
Virya let out a sharp breath - a laugh or a sob, no one could tell. Ivikaa finally smiled, faint but real, pressed somewhere between both brothers. And Vayu, the glue between chaos and calm, just held on tighter.
The room, which had moments ago been charged with fury, now breathed - like a wound stitched, but not yet healed.
Maya stood back, watching the scene unfold. Her chest tightened, eyes shimmering.
This.
This was the Iva the world never got to see.
Fierce. Broken. Loving. Dangerous.
Whole - but only with them.
Maya, standing a few steps back, finally stepped forward, offering a hesitant smile.
Virya looked at her with a faint nod. "Maya" he said, voice rough.
She nodded. "Good to see you in one piece."
Vayu chuckled beside him, throwing an arm over Virya's shoulder. "Barely."
Virya gave a crooked smile - grateful, maybe even shy. "Thanks for... being here."
Before Maya could respond, a voice echoed from the hallway. Deep, composed, unmistakably powerful.
"You think my Iva will come home and I won't get to know?"
They all froze.
Ivikaa turned before anyone else could react. Her breath caught - she didn't need to see to recognize that voice.
"Papa," she breathed.
And then she ran.
Past her brothers, past Maya, past the weight of everything - into the arms of the man standing in the doorway. Viren Ambani.
Dressed in his signature crisp kurta - he opened his arms without a word.
Ivikaa crashed into his chest and held him like a daughter who hadn't let herself feel like one in years.
"Meri beti ghar aa gayi," he murmured.
[My daughter has come home.]
Ivikaa's face softened, tears threatening again - but this time they came with a smile.
"I should be thankful to this gadha that he got hurt and you came," he said with mock scolding, glancing at Virya, "otherwise I don't know for how long I have to wait to see you in person."
Virya smirked, touching his bandaged hand dramatically. "At least my injury did something great today." His voice held that familiar pride.
Ivikaa rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile tugging at her lips.
Vayu, ever the peacekeeper, stepped in smoothly. "Iva, you must be tired. Go freshen up. We'll catch up properly in a bit."
She nodded, grateful for the break in attention, and slowly made her way upstairs.
Her fingers hesitated on the doorknob before pushing it open.
Her room was untouched.
The same faint lavender scent lingered.
The walls still held every photo - childhood birthdays, school trophies, late-night laughter frozen in time.
She stepped in slowly, brushing her fingers along the edges of a frame. Her eyes landed on two faces: her mother Christina and her younger brother Kiaan.
The ache surged up uninvited.
She whispered, almost to herself, "I wish..."
But the sentence didn't finish.
It never did.
After freshening up and steadying her heart, Iva joined her father and the twins for some rare, unhurried time. No cameras, no meetings, no masks.
Just them and laughter.
That night, as the rest of the house went quiet, Iva slipped into her routine. Her laptop glowed in the dim light, fingers dancing over keys as she returned to her project - work, her constant companion.
Then - a knock.
She glanced at the clock.
1:00 AM.
Her brows drew together. Everyone should be asleep.
She opened the door cautiously - and there stood Maya, hair a mess, oversized hoodie, holding out a tablet with a crooked grin.
"Jetlagged," she mumbled. "Also... you've got an e-mail."
Iva raised a brow. "Couldn't wait till morning?"
"Not when it's this."
Maya passed the tablet.
It was from Raha Agnivanshi - and it was anything but calm.
From: raha@agnivanshiind.com
Subject: AHHH YOU'RE IN INDIA?!?!?! 😭✨
Omg hi?? Iva?? Can I call you Iva? Everyone does, right??
I LITERALLY cannot believe you're in the country!!! Like- I manifested this in my notes app SO many times it's scary. You have no idea how much you mean to me. You're my actual fashion godmother 😭👑
So okay. Deep breath.
Here's the thing. We have this majorrrrr Agnivanshi fam party coming up - it's for my bade papa and badi maa's anniversary (they're kinda goals tbh).
The theme is Indo-Western, and like, it's a whole THING. Obvio I was the one who decided.
The guest list is giving: Bollywood celebs, foreign delegates, literal ministers - it's wild.
And I just know I'm going to look like a history chapter if I show up in my usual closet. I NEED HELP.
Sooo... if there's even a 1% chance you could help me design something - or even just give me a ✨vibe check✨ on what to wear - I'd cry (happy tears, promise).
I've dreamt of wearing something with your name on it for AGES. One day, I swear I'll walk a carpet in a full Iva Ambani look and scream "she's the moment" and mean it.
But for now, pls save me from looking like an aunty while everyone else serves runway. 😭🫠
Manifesting this email lands right in your favs folder.
All my love + full fan mode,
-Raha Agnivanshi💌💅
Ivikaa let out a soft laugh, hand brushing her hair back as she scrolled through the email again. The sincerity was endearing - the enthusiasm impossible to ignore.
"She's adorable and totally GenZ," Iva murmured, smiling.
Iva chuckled softly at the girl's enthusiasm, her heart warming. She scrolled up, then down again - reading the words twice.
Pride settled quietly on her shoulders.
"Reply to her," she said simply.
Maya blinked. "Right now?"
Iva gave her a look. The kind that said does it look like I'm kidding?
"Tell her I'll design something for her," Iva added, already turning her attention back to her laptop. "Ask for her measurements and contact details. Let's keep it sleek, tailored, and signature."
Maya narrowed her eyes, fingers hovering over the keyboard. "You good? That's uncharacteristically generous of you."
Ivikaa didn't answer immediately.
Then, without looking up, she said, "Also, get me the new capsule from the Paris line. The one we saved for our high-tier Paris clients."
Maya paused, then looked at her with growing realization. "Wait. You're giving a Agnivanshi princess one of your Paris exclusives?"
Ivikaa finally met her gaze. Her lips curled into the faintest, most dangerous smile.
"She manifested me. I'm just... fulfilling her dream."
Maya folded her arms, eyebrow raised. "Mmm-hmm. Right. And the fact that she'll be wearing your label at one of the highest profile events in Mumbai has nothing to do with it."
Ivikaa's smile deepened.
Maya whistled low. "Well, well. That's the core Iva. Cunning. Calculated. Deadly in couture." She clicked her tongue and added, "So you wanna put your label in the Indian market?"
"I'm a businesswoman," she said coolly. "And I'm in India."
She turned back to Maya, eyes gleaming.
Maya tilted her head. "Especially after seeing the royal collection of Agnivanshi Fashion?" Iva gave her small smile and Maya never needed her words to understand her boss.
The golden haze of the Delhi evening wrapped the lawn in warmth. The Ambani family - laughter, teasing, and light banter in the air - lounged across white cane chairs and cushioned swings under the soft glow of fairy lights.
Ivikaa, or Iva as her family called her, sat barefoot on the grass with a small porcelain plate of sliced cheese, olives, and crackers, sipping chilled cucumber water. The sharp tang of Delhi air mixed with jasmine made her feel oddly at ease - out of place, yet home.
Vayu was mid-sentence about something ridiculous Virya did in office when a butler appeared, holding a silver tray.
"Ma'am, courier from the Agnivanshi. For Ms. Ivikaa Ambani and family."
The tray held two envelopes - one with the official Agnivanshi insignia marked:
To: Ambani & Family
Delhi, India
And the other:
To: Iva Fashion House
Paris, France
The atmosphere shifted just a bit.
Maya, lounging nearby with lemonade and sunglasses, leaned in. "Oho. That's not just a party - that's an event."
Iva opened the envelope marked for her brand. Inside was a card - elegant, gold-embossed, thick cream paper with hand-painted borders.
An official invitation.
To the Agnivanshi Wedding Anniversary Celebration.
And tucked behind it - a handwritten letter.
Maya's brow arched. "Handwritten? That's serious royalty energy."
Iva opened it carefully.
Dearest Ivikaa,
I hope this note finds you in good health and better spirit.
Firstly, thank you for the stunning outfit you sent for Raha. She's over the moon. You've made a young girl's dream come true - and for that, I'm genuinely grateful.
Secondly, allow me to extend a formal and heartfelt invitation to our upcoming anniversary celebration. It would be an honour to host you - not just as a designer, but as someone I once knew beyond fabric and finesse.
Lastly - my apologies. Raha, in her excitement, reached out without the grace or foresight to include a proper invitation. I take full responsibility.
Looking forward to seeing you. And perhaps, to speaking beyond pleasantries.
Warm regards,
Devaki Agnivanshi
Iva read the letter slowly, eyes lingering on the signature.
Maya peeked over her shoulder. "that was so..?"
Just as Iva tucked the letter back into the envelope, her father stepped closer, having caught the tail end of their conversation.
"We're going," Viren Ambani said casually, sipping his tea.
Iva turned to him, one brow raised. "We?"
He shrugged. "To the Agnivanshi anniversary party. It'll be good to see them after so long."
Maya choked on her lemonade. "Wait. You know the Agnivanshis?"
Iva stared at her father, genuinely thrown off for the first time in days. "You never mentioned that."
Viren smiled - the kind of smile that said he'd always known more than he let on. "You never asked."
"I'm the one who got the personal invitation, not you," Iva said mockingly, tilting her head just enough to provoke. Her father just shook his head with a chuckle and walked away, choosing not to argue with the reigning queen of sarcasm.
Iva stood, placing her glass back on the side table with practiced grace, and began scrolling through emails on her phone - already mentally shifting into work mode.
Before long, it was just her and Maya left under the soft hum of garden lights.
And of course, Maya couldn't resist.
"So, Ice Queen is going to Maya Nagari?" she teased.
[City of Illusions]
Iva raised an eyebrow, confused. "Maya what?"
[Illusion]
Maya grinned. "Mumbai. It's called Maya Nagari. And trust me, it's called that for a reason."
[City of Illusions]
She leaned back dramatically and continued in a singsong voice,
"Aur Maya ka kya hai - sachi bhi hoti hai, jhoothi bhi. Bas aap kissi se Maya na lagana."
[And what's Maya? She can be real, or she can be a lie. Just don't get too attached to any 'Maya.']
Iva's glare was immediate - sharp enough to slice through fabric.
Maya raised both hands, mock surrender. "Correction! I meant Mumbai se. Mumbai se Maya na lagana."
[I meant to say - don't get too attached to Mumbai]
Iva rolled her eyes. "Are you speaking too much Hindi? It's really irritating me now."
That shut Maya up - briefly. She threw her head back with a laugh but zipped her mouth, recognizing the line between banter and pushing her luck.
Iva went back to her phone. Ignoring the Agnivanshi name which was constantly popping in her life suddenly.
Mumbai.
Maya Nagari.
Agnivanshi.
Old money. New power. And now... her.
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