Guna gripped the steering wheel like it owed him money.
In the passenger seat, Athavan lounged like a silent emperor, calm and composed—completely unbothered by the fact that his brother-in-law was chauffeuring him around in a bright pink BMW.
Guna's left eye twitched.
"How the hell did he drive this thing earlier?"
His thoughts were practically screaming now.
He shot a glare sideways. Athavan met it with a faint smile.
"Bro, I had to drive this thing through rush hour. Do you know how many people stared? How many laughed?"
For a brief moment, their gazes locked.
And in that single second—without speaking a word—a silent conversation passed between them.
Guna's look said—You made me drive this thing on purpose, didn't you?
Athavan's smirk replied—Absolutely. I will never drive this car again.
Guna clicked his tongue in defeat, muttering curses under his breath.
From the back seat, Archana leaned forward slightly.
"What exactly are we celebrating?" she asked, breaking the silence. "No one told me anything yet. What's the big surprise?"
Dhiviya, who had been sitting quietly next to her, tensed slightly.
The question she had been dreading had finally come.
Her fingers curled slightly into her lap.
What should she say? How should she say it?
Was this even the right time?
Archana, noticing her daughter's hesitation, narrowed her eyes.
"Dhiviya… you're hiding something."
Dhiviya swallowed, her heartbeat quickening.
She opened her mouth, but before she could even form the words—
"Let's wait until we start eating," Athavan's voice cut in smoothly from the driver's seat. His tone was calm, composed, reassuring. "We'll share everything then."
Vasanthan, sensing his daughter's unease, gently placed a hand on his wife's arm.
"Let them tell us when they're ready, Archana," he said softly. But as he looked at Dhiviya's face, something tugged at his heart. There was a weight behind her silence, a hesitation that unsettled him.
Even so, he forced a small smile. "I'm sure it's good news."
Before the atmosphere could become too heavy—
"Wait, don't tell me… you guys are celebrating because of this pink car?" Guna blurted out.
Before Athavan or Dhiviya could respond—
"What's wrong with this car?!" Archana scolded immediately, turning to Guna with a sharp glare. "It's super comfortable and flashy. No matter where we park, it'll be easy to recognize!"
She folded her arms, huffing slightly. "I think Athavan has great taste. He picked such a good color."
Athavan coughed lightly, looking straight ahead.
Dhiviya, who had been drowning in nervous thoughts moments ago, found herself smiling.
Even as uncertainty loomed over her, at least for this moment… she allowed herself to feel it.
Because she still couldn't imagine what would happen next.
The family stepped into the private dining hall Athavan had reserved. The warm atmosphere and the aroma of freshly prepared vegetarian dishes filled the air. Plates of exquisite cuisine were served, and for a while, everyone seemed to enjoy themselves.
Everyone… except two people.
Dhiviya's heart pounded with unease.
She stole a glance at Athavan. He sat there calmly, slicing his broccoli with the same casualness as if they had gathered here for nothing more than a simple dinner.
Across from him, Guna squinted at his brother-in-law with pure resentment.
"You are really my natural enemy, you damn herbivore brother-in-law."
Archana, oblivious to her children's inner turmoil, finally spoke up.
"Isn't it time for you both to tell us what's going on?"
Dhiviya tensed. She instinctively turned to Athavan, silently begging for his help.
Athavan, noticing her pleading gaze, set his fork down and leaned slightly forward.
"We actually have two things to share—one happy news…" He deliberately paused.
Dhiviya felt her stomach twist. Here it comes…
Athavan's tone shifted, just slightly.
"…and another that may sound bad at first, but in truth, it's something good for our family."
His eyes met Dhiviya's, firm yet reassuring. You can do this.
She inhaled deeply and nodded. "Amma, Appa… my friends and I have decided to start our own company. That's why we're celebrating today."
Archana's eyes widened in shock. Vasanthan, however, had been observing his daughter and son-in-law closely. This man is making my daughter stronger, step by step.
"Dear, I'm happy for you," Archana said, still processing the news. "But starting a company requires massive funding…"
"Yes, Amma," Dhiviya admitted. "Athavan helped us with the startup capital."
Archana's head snapped toward Athavan. "Maapillai, is it really okay? We don't want to burden you. You just bought a car for her…"
"It's fine, Atte," Athavan replied smoothly. "I believe in their team. They're a group of professionals who lacked the right opportunity. Even if they fail, I told you before—I have a decent income. I can still support everyone."
Dhiviya clenched her fists under the table. Decent income?
"Damn you, husband. You're the richest man in the world, and you call that 'decent, then what about us, the common folks?!"
She stared at him in disbelief. He's a total opposite of the calm yogi he looks like. He's a devil disguised as a saint!
Vasanthan, however, didn't focus on the money. He smiled weakly at Dhiviya.
"I'm happy for you. Not just because you're starting your own company, but because I can see both of you supporting each other. That's what truly matters."
But then… his smile faded slightly. His voice lowered.
"Just don't take this for granted. Give it your best. Learn from my mistakes."
His words carried a weight of regret. He didn't feel like he had the right to advise her, but he wanted to.
Archana reached for his hand and gave it a firm squeeze. She understood him better than anyone.
Dhiviya's chest tightened. She wanted to hug her father. She wanted to scream—Dad, you did nothing wrong!
Her eyes darted toward Athavan again. She was silently begging him, Do something.
Athavan, as if sensing her turmoil, reached for his phone.
"Excuse me for a moment," he said, standing up.
She watched him step away, keeping a decent distance before making a call.
When he returned, his entire demeanor had shifted.
His gaze was sharp. His presence, commanding.
"It's time to share the second news," Athavan announced. "Rather than me explaining, I think it's better if we watch it together."
He clapped his hands once.
"Shall we begin?"
The room darkened.
A projector blinked to life.
Static. Then motion.
A live feed. On-screen, a live event began to play.
Multiple angles. Shifting perspectives.
And then—familiar faces filled the screen.
The entire table froze
The End.