The following weekend, the Chauhan family finally completed the renovations of their new home, a massive, palatial estate that gleamed with luxury. Dheeraj and Riya Chauhan decided to celebrate by throwing a grand housewarming party, inviting not just friends but business associates, military officials, and high-profile guests from across Kashi. It was a perfect opportunity to flaunt their vast network, and they made sure that the Agastya family was on the guest list, knowing that their longstanding friendship would only add warmth to the occasion.
Karna, Devi, and Dhruvansh attended the event with their extended family—children from the orphanage. For them, family meant more than just blood relations, and they treated the orphanage kids as their own. But when they arrived at the Chauhan estate, they quickly realized this party was much more than a small gathering of close friends. The mansion was bustling with elite guests, many of them wealthy businessmen, military officers, and conglomerate leaders, all of whom had come with their children. Their motives were clear—they wanted their children to form connections with Diya Chauhan, who was destined to inherit the Rai Industries empire.
As soon as Dheeraj noticed the Agastya family, he excused himself from his circle of influential guests and rushed over, greeting them warmly. "Karna! Devi! It's great to see you all here. Dhruvansh, I hope you're ready to have some fun today. Diya," he called to his daughter, "why don't you introduce Dhruvansh and his friends to the others?"
Diya nodded, somewhat reluctantly. She led Dhruvansh and the orphanage kids over to the group of second-generation rich kids. Introductions were made, but it quickly became evident that the rich kids weren't exactly thrilled to meet children who didn't share their privileged backgrounds. The difference in their clothing, demeanor, and even speech was painfully obvious, and soon the condescending remarks started flying.
"Where'd you guys get your clothes? Some charity store?" one of the rich boys sneered.
"They must be so used to hand-me-downs," another added, laughing.
Dhruvansh, who had been quiet the entire time, distracted by his own thoughts about his real parents, finally snapped out of his daze when he saw his orphanage brothers and sisters being mocked. He stepped forward, his voice calm but firm, "Enough. Don't treat my family like this."
The rich kids, emboldened by their numbers, turned their attention to him. "Oh, look, the 'orphaned genius' speaks. What are you gonna do? Cry to your parents? Oh wait, you don't have any!" the leader of the group, a boy from the Kumar family, taunted, his voice dripping with cruel amusement.
Dhruvansh's face darkened. His heart pounded in his chest, but he held his composure, even as he glanced at Diya, silently hoping she would step in. But to his disappointment, she stood back, watching with a faint, amused smile. That was all the confirmation he needed—she wouldn't help him.
"Let's go," Dhruvansh said quietly to his brothers and sisters from the orphanage. They started to turn away, but the rich kids weren't about to let them leave without one final jab.
"Yeah, run away, coward! Go cry to your—oh, wait, you don't have a mom, do you?!" The Kumar boy laughed loudly, enjoying the moment, until he saw Dhruvansh stop in his tracks.
The expression on Dhruvansh's face was unreadable, but his eyes—his eyes burned with a cold fury. Without a word, he turned and walked straight toward the Kumar boy. What happened next was over in less than two seconds.
Dhruvansh's fists flew in quick succession—a left hook to the face, a right cross, followed by a brutal shoulder jab and a punch to the stomach. The Kumar boy doubled over, vomiting water as he gasped for air. Before anyone could react, Dhruvansh's last blow—a perfectly executed uppercut—sent the boy flying three feet in the air. He landed with a thud, unconscious.
The scene was chaos. The other rich kids, frozen in place, could hardly process what had just happened. Diya, who had been trying to stay detached, stepped forward, realizing things had gone too far.
"Dhruvansh, stop!" she shouted, but it was too late. Dhruvansh, his anger not yet spent, was already moving toward the boy again for a final blow when strong arms grabbed him from behind.
It was Karna, his face a mix of concern and fury. "Dhruvansh! What are you doing?"
Dheeraj, along with several of the conglomerate leaders, rushed over, pulling the unconscious boy away. The room buzzed with tension as the adults gathered, trying to understand what had just unfolded. The leader of Kumar Industries stormed over, furious.
"What happened here? Why is my son lying unconscious? Who's responsible for this?!" he demanded.
One of the other rich kids, seizing the opportunity, lied. "Dhruvansh started it! He just attacked us out of nowhere!"
Karna, holding Dhruvansh firmly, looked at him with disappointment. "This isn't like you. I raised you better than this. Why did you start a fight, Dhruvansh? This is not how we behave."
Dhruvansh, his chest still heaving with anger, pointed at Diya without hesitation. "Ask her," he said, his voice cold.
Diya's face drained of color. She knew exactly what he was talking about. She had seen the bullying unfold but chose to ignore it. Worse, she knew that if her father found out she allowed the situation to escalate, she would face harsh consequences.
But instead of owning up to her mistake, Diya lied. "It wasn't like that, Dad. Dhruvansh and his friends were causing trouble from the start. I tried to stop it, but they wouldn't listen. He instigated the fight."
Dhruvansh's anger flared again, this time more intensely. His voice, now filled with unfiltered rage, echoed through the room. "You rich kids are all the same. I should've never come here! I would've stayed in my room if I knew this is how it would turn out. I don't care if you blame me, but I will not stand by while you accuse my siblings of something they didn't do!"
Then, he did something no one expected.
Lifting his sleeve to reveal his wristwatch, Dhruvansh spoke loudly and clearly, his voice full of conviction, "Eye, hack the CCTV in the upper left corner and retrieve the video from when we arrived. Play it right here, crystal clear."
The room fell silent. The adults exchanged looks, some amused, others curious. Many thought the boy was about to make a fool of himself. Karna, however, knew better. His face paled as he realized what was about to happen.
"Yes, Dhruvansh," came the robotic yet human-sounding reply from his wristwatch.
In seconds, the house's security cameras were hacked, and a crystal-clear video appeared on the massive TV screen in the living room. The footage began playing from the moment Dhruvansh and his orphanage family had approached the group of rich kids.
The room watched in stunned silence as the entire interaction unfolded, the cruel taunts and mocking from the rich kids clearly visible. Every word, every gesture, was laid bare. The video left no room for misinterpretation—it showed exactly how the rich kids had started the bullying, and how Dhruvansh had only acted in defense of his family.
Gasps and murmurs filled the room. Some adults were impressed by the boy's resourcefulness, while others were utterly shocked. As the video ended, the once-confident rich kids now stood trembling, knowing there was no escaping the truth.
Dheeraj and the leader of Kumar Industries turned red with embarrassment. Diya, now fully aware of the mess she had created, stared at the floor, unable to meet anyone's eyes.
Karna, his anger now mingled with pride, released Dhruvansh from his grip. "Well," he said, addressing the room. "It seems the truth is right in front of us."
Dhruvansh, still burning with residual anger, gave one final glare toward the rich kids, then quietly turned and walked out of the room, leaving the adults to deal with the aftermath.