The alarm didn’t wake Revansh Malhotra.

Memories did.

He opened his eyes to the pale Istanbul morning filtering through the glass walls of his Bosphorus mansion. The city looked peaceful. Boats cutting through silver water. Seagulls crying in the distance.

Peaceful.

Unlike him.

His phone screen lit up on the beside table.

12:00 AM – Unknown Number

Happy Birthday Beta!

He didn’t need to read the name to know who it was.

His jaw tight.

On the coffee table near his bedroom door, a neatly wrapped box sat. Dark blue paper. Sliver ribbon. Delivered at midnight.

He stared at it for a long moment.

Then he walked toward it.

Slowly.

Coldly.

He picked it up, placed it on the marble table, and tore the ribbon in one sharp pull.

Inside—

A vintage watch.

The same model his mother once promised she would gift him when he turned eighteen.

He turned twenty-eight today.

Ten years late.

A small handwritten note slipped out.

I KNOW I DON’T DESERVE YOUR FORGIVENESS. BUT I NEVER STOPPED LOVING YOU.

His hand clenched.

The sound of glass shattering echoed through the room.

The watch hit the wall.

Pieces scattered across the floor.

“LOVE?” he whispered bitterly. “YOU REMEMBER THE WORD NOW?”

He ran a hand through his hair, breathing hard.

“WHERE WAS THIS LOVE WHEN YOU LEFT?” he muttered.

Silence answered him.

He grabbed his blazer from the chair and walked out of the bedroom without looking back at the broken gift.

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The Malhotra mansion garden overlooked the Bosphorus. Dew still clung to the grass. The scent of fresh coffee filled the air.

Ayaan was already there.

Sitting casually on the stone bench, sunglasses on, one leg crossed over the other, holding a steaming cup.

As if he owned the morning.

He looked up.

“AH,” Ayaan grinned. “THE BIRTHDAY BOY FINALLY RISES.”

Revansh stopped in front of him.

“DON’T START.”

Ayaan stood up anyway and pulled him into a tight hug.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, YOU EMOTIONALLY UNAVILABLE BILLIONAIRE.”

Revansh let out a small breath. Not quite a laugh.

“IDIOT.”

Ayaan pulled back and studied his face. “HMM. YOU BROKE SOMETHING.”

Revansh’s expression hardened.

“SHE SENT A GIFT.”

Ayaan’s smile faded slightly. “YOUR MOM?”

“YES.”

“AND?”

“I BROKE IT.”

Ayaan sighed and handed him the coffee cup. “WHAT WAS IT?”

“A WATCH.”

Ayaan winced. “OUCH. SYMBOLIC.”

Revansh looked toward the water. “TEN YEARS, AYAAN. TEN YEARS AND SUDDENLY SHE REMEMBERS MY BIRTHDAY.”

“MAYBE SHE NEVER FORGOT.”

“THAT’S WORSE,” Revansh replied sharply. “BECAUSE THAT MEANS SHE CHOSE NOT TO COME BACK.”

Silence stretched between them.

Ayaan took a sip from his own cup. “YOU’RE STILL THAT SIXTEEN-YEAR-OLD BOY WAITING AT THE AIRPORT.”

Revansh’s jaw tightened. “DON’T.”

“I’M NOT ATTACKING YOU,” Ayaan said calmly. “I’AM SAYING… YOU’RE ALLOWED TO BE ANGRY. BUT YOU DON’T HAVE TO CARRY IT LIKE A TROPHY.”

Revansh looked at him. “I DON’T CARE.”

Ayaan raised an eyebrow. “YOU SMASHED A WATCH AGAINST A WALL.”

Revansh didn’t reply.

Ayaan smiled softly. “CHILL, REA. IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY. NOT A COURTROOM TRIAL.”

He nudged him lightly. “COME ON. LET’S GO OUT.”

“I HAVE MEETINGS.”

“YOU ALWAYS HAVE MEETINGS.”

“I RUN A BILLION-DOLLAR COMPANY.”

“AND I RUN YOUR SANITY,” Ayaan replied. “WHICH IS CLEARLY CLLAPSING.”

Revansh gave him a deadpan look.

Ayaan grinned wider. “BREAKFAST. OUTSIDE. SOMEWHERE NORMAL. NO SUITS. NO BOARD MEMBERS. JUST YOU AND ME.”

“I DON’T DO NORMAL.”

“EXACTLY WHY YOU NEED IT.”

Revansh hesitated.

For a second, the angry CEO mask slipped.

And the tired man showed.

“FINE,” he said finally. “ONE HOUR.”

Ayaan clapped dramatically. “THAT’S THE SPIRIT! SEE? GROWTH.”

“DON’T PUSH IT.”

They began walking toward the mansion gates.

As they stepped out, Ayaan glanced at him sideways.

“YOU KNOW,” he said casually, “MAYBE THIS YEAR SOMETHING WILL CHANGE.”

Revansh adjusted his watch — not the broken one.

“NOTHING CHANGES,” he replied coldly.

Ayaan smiled to himself.

“LET’S SEE.”

The Bosphorus wind blew softly around them.

And everything to survive.

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The Man Who Owned the Skyline

Malhotra Global stood tall in the heart of Istanbul — glass, steel, and quiet dominance.

Revansh adjusted his cufflinks as the car stopped at the entrance. The building reflected the morning sun like it bowed to him.

The moment he stepped inside, the lobby shifted.

Not in fear.

In respect.

“GOOD MORNING, SIR!” the receptionist smiled.

“MORNING, ELIF. HOW’S YOUR SON’S FEVER?” he replied easily.

Elif blinked, surprised he remembered. “MUCH BETTER, SIR. THANK YOU.”

He nodded once and walked toward the elevator.

The doors opened on the executive floor.

And before he could even step out—

“SURPRISE!”

Confetti exploded in the air.

Revansh froze.

Standing in front of him was Zara, his operations manager — sharp blazer, sharper personality. Beside her stood Coco Demir, assistant manager, half Turkish, half chaos, holding a ridiculously large “HAPPY BIRTHDAY BOSS” banner.

The entire floor clapped.

Revansh stared at them.

“…YOU ALL HAVE TOO MUCH FREE TIME.”

Coco gasped dramatically. “EXCUSE ME? WE WORKED ON THIS SINCE 7 A.M.”

Zara crossed her arms. “AND I POSTPONED A CLIENT CALL FOR THIS. PLEASE ACT GRATEFUL.”

A small smile tugged at his lips.

“THANK YOU,” he said calmly.

Zara stepped forward with a small box. “NO BREAKING THIS ONE, PLEASE.”

His eyes flickered.

She noticed.

But didn’t comment.

He opened it. A sleek custom pen engraved:

R.M. – Build What Lasts.

He exhaled softly. “THIS… IS PERFECT.”

Coco leaned closer. “SEE? WE UNDERSTAND YOU BETTER THAN WHOEVER ELSE SENDS MYSTERIOUS MIDNIGHT GIFTS.”

Revansh gave him a warning look.

Coco raised his hands. “OKAY. SILENCE. PROFESSIONALISM. I REMEMBER.”

From behind them, Emir Yılmaz, head of finance, smirked. “SIR, WE EVEN CONVINCED THE COFFEE MACHINE TO BEHAVE TODAY. THAT’S REAL EFFORT.”

Laughter filled the floor.

Revansh shook his head slightly. “ALL RIGHT, BACK TO WORK BEFORE I START CUTTING BONUSES.”

“YOU WOULDN’T DARE,” Zara said confidently.

He looked at her. “TRY ME.”

She smiled.

That was the thing about Revansh.

He wasn’t the terrifying CEO who humiliated employees.

He was firm. Demanding. Precise.

But fair.

He knew birthdays.

He approved leaves without drama.

He listened before deciding.

And that’s why they’d shown up early just to see him smile once.

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Evening – Office Terrace

The Istanbul skyline glowed gold as sunset melted into night.

Fairy lights hung across the terrace. Soft Turkish music played in the background. A long table filled with food — baklava, kebabs, cakes, mocktails.

Revansh stepped out onto the terrace and paused.

“YOU PEOPLE REALLY DON’T KNOW HOW TO DO THINGS HALFWAY,” he said.

Coco appeared beside him. “WE LEARNED FROM YOU, BOSS.”

Zara handed him a drink. “NO ALCOHOL. YOU HAVE AN EARLY MEETING TOMORROW.”

“SEE?” Coco muttered. “THIS IS WHY SHE’S MANAGER.”

Emir clapped Revansh on the shoulder. “SPEECH.”

“NO,” Revansh replied immediately.

“YES,” Zara insisted.

Employees began chanting lightly.

“SPEECH! SPEECH!”

Revansh looked at them — his team.

People from different cities. Different countries. Different stories.

And for a moment… the weight in his chest felt lighter.

He took a breath.

“I’M NOT GOOD AT SPEECHES,” he began calmly. “YOU ALL KNOW THAT.”

Coco coughed loudly. “EMOTIONALLY UNAVAILABLE.”

Zara elbowed him.

Revansh ignored them.

“BUT… I BUILT THIS COMPANY WITH NUMBERS. YOU BUILT IT WITH LOYALTY.”

The terrace quieted.

“YOU DON’T WORK FOR ME. YOU WORK WITH ME.”

Zara’s expression softened.

“AND I’M PROUD OF WHAT WE’VE CREATED.”

There was a pause.

Then applause.

Not loud.

But sincere.

Coco wiped imaginary tears. “HE FEELS THINGS! HISTORIC MOMENT!”

Revansh smirked faintly. “DON’T RUIN IT.”

Music grew louder. Someone pulled Zara to dance. Coco attempted something that could barely qualify as rhythm.

Even Emir laughed freely.

Revansh stood near the railing, watching the Bosphorus shimmer under the moonlight.

Ayaan appeared beside him with two glasses.

“LOOK AT YOU,” Ayaan said quietly. “BELOVED CEO.”

Revansh’s gaze stayed on the water. “THEY DESERVE STABILITY.”

“AND WHAT DO YOU DESERVE?”

Revansh didn’t answer.

Behind them, laughter echoed.

Zara shouted, “SIR, YOU HAVE TO DANCE AT LEAST ONCE!”

“I ABSOLUTELY DO NOT.”

Coco grabbed his arm. “TOO LATE!”

They dragged him toward the center.

For a rare moment, Revansh let go.

He laughed.

A real one.

But as the music played and the city glowed beneath them, a strange feeling lingered in the air.

Like something was shifting.

Like somewhere in this same city—

A girl with no safety, no name in official records, and nowhere to return—

Was about to step into his perfectly structured world.

And nothing would remain untouched.