Everyone’s eyes remained fixed on their respective files while the projector displayed the presentation in front of them. The discussion continued around the conference table, but the atmosphere remained tense, with nobody willing to break the silence unnecessarily.

At the head of the table, a man sat quietly, his attention fixed on the projector. He had not spoken since the meeting began, yet his silence carried enough authority to keep everyone focused. Nobody dared to look directly at him.

In the business world, he was known as the Devil. In his office, people rarely used his actual name when speaking about him. His standards were ruthless, his decisions were final, and his silence often frightened people more than anger ever could.

One of the executives continued explaining the figures, carefully moving through each slide while discussing the projected revenue and expected expenses. He spoke confidently at first, but every passing second made him increasingly conscious of the man listening silently.

The presentation reached its final slide, and the executive stopped speaking. Nobody moved. Everyone waited for the response that would decide whether the entire proposal was acceptable or would return to them covered in corrections.

A deep, controlled voice finally broke the silence.

“Give me the exact details of the second quarter projection.”

The young executive immediately looked down at his file. He knew the answer perfectly well, yet the sudden question made his confidence falter. His fingers tightened around the papers before he forced himself to answer.

“The projected growth is eighteen percent, based on the current figures. The second quarter should perform better because the new contracts are expected to increase revenue, while the operational costs should remain within the approved limit.”

He paused briefly before continuing, carefully choosing every word. He knew the numbers by heart, but the person listening had a habit of noticing even the smallest inconsistency. One incorrect figure could send the entire presentation back to the beginning.

“The estimated revenue is approximately forty-two million, while the expected expenditure remains close to twenty-six million. Based on the current analysis, the overall margin should remain stable, provided there are no unexpected changes in the market.”

The executive finished speaking and slowly turned toward the projector, deliberately avoiding the man's eyes. He continued looking at the displayed figures, hoping that his detailed explanation had answered everything correctly.

For several seconds, nobody spoke. The young man could feel the silence behind him and knew he was still being watched. He finally gathered enough courage to glance sideways, only to find those eyes fixed directly on him.

The Devil was still staring at him.

The young executive immediately looked away, his mind racing as he tried to figure out what he had done wrong. He had checked every figure twice, yet standing under that unwavering gaze was enough to make him doubt himself.

“I’m asking you something.”

The young man straightened immediately.

“Yes, sir.”

He carefully repeated the figures, this time making sure every detail was clear and precise. When he finished, he lowered his eyes again and waited, completely uncertain whether another question or a sharp correction would follow.

The Devil continued watching him for several seconds. Then his expression remained unchanged as he finally spoke, his voice calm and unexpectedly approving.

“Impressive.”

The young man's heart nearly jumped with happiness. He felt as though he had received something far more valuable than a doubled salary. Still, he knew better than to celebrate. He simply gave a small respectful nod.

Before he could say anything else, a distinctive ringtone suddenly echoed through the conference room. Every person at the table immediately recognized it, and the room became completely silent as the Devil calmly reached for his phone.

“I’m in a meeting.”

“I know that... I did not ask where you are... I asked when you are coming home.”

He glanced at the clock on the wall, calculating the time without showing even the slightest change in expression.

“It is 8 p.m. and I need 10 minutes. After 10 minutes, I need 20 minutes to reach home.”

“Okay... You have until 8:30.”

The call ended, and he placed the phone on the table. He looked toward the files again, and everyone immediately understood what those ten minutes meant. They had ten minutes to finish everything before he left.

The room came alive instantly. Files were opened, figures were checked, and the remaining points were discussed at remarkable speed. Nobody needed another instruction. Everyone knew the meeting had exactly ten minutes left.

The meeting finally came to an end. The moment he rose from his chair, everyone in the room stood up instinctively. Without saying another word, he picked up his files and walked out, leaving behind a silence nobody dared disturb.

Everyone released the breath they had been holding for the past several minutes. A few men exchanged exhausted glances before one of them finally leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chest as though he had just survived something dangerous.

“Finally, the Devil is gone.”

A few quiet smiles appeared around the table as everyone relaxed. One of the younger executives shook his head, looking toward the closed door with disbelief, before speaking in a low voice.

“Does anyone even remember his real name anymore, or are we all planning to remember him as the Devil for the rest of our lives?”

A small wave of laughter passed through the room before the men looked at one another, and almost together, they finally said the name that belonged to the man everyone feared.

TAVISH LUTHRA.

By the time Tavish reached the parking lot, it was already eight fifteen. His steps remained steady and calculated as he checked his watch once before approaching the car. The driver immediately moved toward the rear passenger door.

Before the driver could open it, Tavish gave him a brief look and pointed toward the driver's seat. The driver understood instantly, unlocked the car, and moved aside without asking a single question.

Tavish slid behind the steering wheel while the driver quietly took the passenger seat beside him. The moment the engine started, the driver glanced at him from the corner of his eyes, already regretting whatever had brought him into that seat tonight.

The car shot forward, moving through the roads with frightening speed. Tavish drove with complete control, but there was nothing relaxed about his driving. Every turn was calculated, every acceleration deliberate, and every passing second mattered to him.

The driver silently held onto the seat as Tavish continued driving without slowing down. He had promised that he would reach home within the required time, and nothing, not even traffic, seemed capable of changing that decision.

Exactly fifteen minutes later, the car stopped outside his house. Tavish stepped out immediately, checked his watch once, and walked inside without wasting another second. The moment he entered, his eyes settled on the figure waiting calmly in the living room.

A five-year-old boy sat comfortably on the sofa with his arms folded across his chest and one leg resting over the other. His serious expression remained fixed on Tavish, as though he had been waiting specifically to judge whether his father had kept his promise.

Tavish slipped both hands into his pockets and walked toward him, his expression softening only slightly when he saw the boy sitting there with such unmistakable confidence.

“You knew I was in a meeting.”

“Yes, I know… And I am sorry, but I needed to talk to you about something important.”

“Okay… Can I know what was so important?”

“I don't like it here… You know that.”

Tavish glanced toward the dining table, where his parents were already seated. He then returned his attention to the boy and walked closer before lowering himself in front of him.

“Ivaan, we are here right now, so we will have to stay for a few days.”

Ivaan slowly lowered his shoulders, clearly displeased by the answer, but his expression remained composed. He looked directly at his father, displaying the same quiet confidence that had become almost natural to him.

“But you are wasting my studies.”

A faint smile appeared on Tavish's face. He lightly pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose before looking at his son with an expression that carried both amusement and surrender.

“Okay, fine… I am sorry... We are going back this Monday.”

Ivaan gave a small nod, apparently satisfied with the decision. Tavish continued looking at him for a moment, quietly observing every familiar feature, every expression, and every little movement that reminded him of himself.

There was hardly anything about Ivaan that did not resemble Tavish. The same sharp features, the same controlled expressions, the same steady gaze, and the same habit of speaking only when necessary seemed to exist naturally within the little boy.

Yet his eyes were different. Tavish looked into them carefully, his expression softening as his fingers gently touched the boy's face. There was something about those eyes that reminded him unmistakably of his son's mother.

“Did you have dinner?”

Ivaan shakes his head quietly. Tavish stood and held his son's hand, leading him toward the dining table. He pulled out the chair beside him, waited until Ivaan sat comfortably, and then settled into his own seat.

Megha immediately looked at Tavish as he joined them. Before he could begin eating, she placed her attention firmly on him, clearly waiting for an opportunity to discuss something she considered important.

“I need to talk to you about something important.”

Tavish calmly looked at his mother while serving food onto Ivaan's plate first. He then served himself before answering, his tone remaining controlled and completely unaffected by her statement.

“You know very well that I do not discuss unnecessary things at the dining table.”

Megha fell silent. The rest of the meal continued without further discussion, with only the quiet sounds of plates and cutlery filling the room. Tavish remained focused on his food and occasionally glanced toward Ivaan.

Once Ivaan finished eating, Tavish looked at him and spoke calmly.

“You can go to your room. I will come in a little while.”

Ivaan did not argue or ask questions. He simply got down from his chair and walked toward his room with the same composed manner that seemed almost identical to his father's.

Tavish watched him disappear before turning back toward his mother. Megha waited for his attention, then finally said what she had been trying to discuss since he arrived.

“I have found a girl for you.”

Tavish's expression changed only slightly. He leaned back against the chair, resting his back against it as he looked at his mother with quiet amusement.

“You chose a girl for me before too. What happened to her?”

Megha immediately fell silent. Karan looked toward his son, his expression becoming serious as he finally decided to intervene in the conversation.

“You cannot spend your entire life alone.”

Tavish slowly pushed his chair back and stood. His expression remained calm, but the authority in his voice left no room for another argument.

“I have my son. I do not need to think about anything beyond that.”

He looked directly at both of his parents, his voice remaining steady as he made his decision clear without raising it into an argument.

“And I expect you both to stop talking nonsense about this. I do not want to get married, and I do not think about marriage. It would be better if this matter ended here.”