The Weight of a Name

The drive home was suffocating.

Siara leaned her head against the car seat, staring blankly at the notifications flooding her phone.

#SiaraRajawatVsVardhans

#CEOWithATemper

#RajawatEmpireInTrouble

She let out a dry chuckle. Wow. What a great way to make her first public appearance as CEO.

She had imagined this moment countless times—stepping into the limelight not just as Siara Rajawat, but as Siara Rajawat, the CEO of Rajawat Enterprises.

And what did she get?

A scandal. A headline. A full-blown social media circus.

All over a misunderstanding.

Siara rubbed her temples. The slap had been an impulsive reaction, a mistake. She hadn’t even given Ekansh Vardhan a chance to explain before her anger had lashed out. And now?

She had given the Vardhans exactly what they had been waiting for.

Another reason to start a war.

The car pulled into the Rajawat estate, its grand pillars and intricate carvings standing tall under the moonlight.

She barely stepped out before the double doors of the mansion swung open.

There stood Meera Rajawat, her mother—her expression a storm waiting to erupt.

"Maine pehle hi mana kiya tha!" Meera’s voice rang across the entrance. "Choti hai tu abhi in sab cheezon ke liye. Par nahi, tujhe toh sab kuch apne hisaab se hi karna hota hai!"

Siara sighed. "Mumma, please, abhi nahi—"

"Abhi nahi?!" Meera’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Poore desh mein Rajawat naam ki beizzati ho rahi hai! Yeh sab kya hai?"

She shoved the phone in Siara’s face.

Siara didn’t need to look. She already knew.

Every news portal, every blog, every Twitter trend—all about her.

"Ekansh Vardhan publicly humiliated by Rajawat heiress!"

"Corporate Rivalry or Personal Vendetta?"

"Is Siara Rajawat too impulsive to be CEO?"

And of course—#RajawatEmpireInTrouble was trending at number one.

Before Meera could continue, a deep, commanding voice cut through the tension.

"Bas, Meera."

Siara turned to see her father, Veer Rajawat, standing at the top of the staircase.

"Ek galti ho gayi hai, iska matlab yeh nahi ki tum usse sunate raho." His tone was firm yet calm. "Sabse zaroori baat yeh hai ki Siara ko apni galti ka ehsaas hai."

Meera huffed but fell silent.

Veer stepped down, placing a reassuring hand on Siara’s shoulder.

"Beta, andar chalo."

Siara let out a slow breath and walked inside, only to find her Chachu and Chachi waiting in the living room.

Arjun Rajawat—her father’s younger brother—sat with his usual composed aura, fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest. Beside him, his wife, Ishaani Rajawat, held a glass of water, but her sharp gaze was fixed on Siara.

"Kya zarurat thi, Sia?" Ishaani’s voice was cool, calculated. "Vardhanon se pehle bhi hamara koi accha rishta nahi raha hai. Unhone hamesha hume neecha dikhane ki koshish ki hai, aur tumne unhe yeh mauka khud de diya?"

Siara’s nails dug into her palm. Exactly what she had been telling herself the whole ride home.

"Agar yeh sab Rudra ke saath hota, toh yeh haalat hi nahi hoti," Ishaani continued. "Usne kabhi aise impulsive decisions nahi liye."

Siara’s lips parted, the sharp retort ready on her tongue—Really, Chachi? Rudra never made mistakes? Or was he just never held accountable for them?

But she swallowed the words.

She wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of watching her snap.

"Vardhanon ko toh bas ek wajah chahiye hoti hai Rajawat empire ko neecha dikhane ke liye," she said instead, voice carefully controlled. "Aur maine unhe yeh wajah silver platter par de di."

Arjun exhaled. "Siara, jo bhi hua, uska impact sirf tum tak seemit nahi hai. Yeh Rajawat naam ki baat hai."

She met his gaze evenly. "Mujhe pata hai, Chachu."

Ishaani shook her head. "Tum Rajawat ho, Sia. Tumhare decisions sirf tumhare nahi hote. Agar tumhaari jagah mera beta hota, toh yeh sab kabka sambhal liya hota." (You are a Rajawat, Sia. Your decisions don’t just affect you. If my son were in your place, this situation would’ve already been handled.)

Siara clenched her jaw.

Oh, she wanted to answer that. But she didn’t.

Because Ishaani was right about one thing—if Rudra had been in her place, this situation wouldn’t have happened at all.

Because Rudra was never expected to prove himself.

Because he had always been handed power on a silver platter, while she had fought for it.

Her mother was silent now.

Because she knew the truth too.

Siara was the first woman in their family to ever hold this position.

The eldest grandchild, the rightful heir. And yet, she had been overlooked for years.

Rudra had been chosen as CEO, despite his complete lack of interest.

But Siara had refused to accept it. She had worked at different positions in her own company, proving herself, forcing her Dadu to see her worth. And it was only because of her father’s support that she had finally gotten a chance.

Her Dadu.

Maharaj Ranvijay Rajawat.

A legend in the business world. A man whose name commanded power.

And the man who had fought against tradition, against his own family, to give his granddaughter the position she deserved.

The silence stretched, thick with unspoken words, until a deep, authoritative voice shattered it.

"Sia."

Siara turned swiftly.

Her Dadu stood near the fireplace, his regal presence undeniable.

"Kabhi kabhi galtiyan bhi zaroori hoti hain," he said, his gaze piercing. "Par seekhna aur samajhna bhi utna hi zaroori hai."

Siara inhaled sharply. "Ji, Dadu."

Ranvijay nodded, his sharp eyes flickering with something unreadable.

"Ek Raja ki taqat sirf uski gusse mein nahi hoti, uski soojh-boojh mein bhi hoti hai." (A king’s strength isn’t just in his anger, but in his wisdom too.)

Siara swallowed. This wasn’t just about what she had done.

This was about what she would do next.

She turned without another word, making her way upstairs.

Her mind was already racing.

This wasn’t o

ver.

Not by a long shot.

And if the Vardhans thought this incident had made her weak—

They were about to learn just how wrong they were.