The sun, a brazen splash of orange, was already peeking over the horizon, but Vishambhar Singh Rajvansh was quite content in his four-poster bed, the silk sheets cool against his skin. A soft snore rumbled in his chest, a testament to the blissful slumber he had planned to prolong well into the afternoon. His dreams, a hazy blur of golf courses and triumphant business deals, were rudely interrupted.

"Vishambhar-ji!" A gentle prod, then another, firmer one. "Are you planning to sleep through our grandson's wedding preparations? Get up, you lazy lion! We need to go shopping."

Vishambhar groaned, a deep, guttural sound that vibrated through the mattress. "Sadhana, my dear, it’s barely eight! Even the birds are still deciding whether to chirp or simply stretch their wings." He cracked open one eye, a sliver of light illuminating the determined glint in his wife’s gaze. Sadhana, always impeccably dressed even at this ungodly hour, stood over him, hands on her hips, a faint smile playing on her lips. She was a force of nature, a gentle whirlwind that swept him up in its wake.

"The early bird, Vishambhar-ji, catches the most exquisite bridal jewelry! Now, up, up, up!" She tugged at his arm, her strength surprising for a woman her age. Vishambhar chuckled, a rumbling sound. He was an aged man, yes, with silver hair and a slight stoop, but his mind was as sharp as ever, and his heart, though mended, still beat for the joy of his only grandson, Ram.

Ram. The boy who had once been pure sunshine, a living embodiment of laughter and mischief. That light had been cruelly extinguished the day his parents, Kshitij and Avantika, Vishambhar’s own son and his beloved daughter-in-law, died in that horrific accident. Ram was only eight then. The boy’s smile, once so readily given, had been snatched away, replaced by a quiet stoicism that worried Vishambhar to his core. He yearned to see that bright spark return, that genuine happiness that only true love could ignite.

That yearning had led him to Siya Thakur. He had met Ekansh Thakur during a business collaboration, a sprawling, intricate deal that had brought their two empires closer. He’d seen Siya then, just a glimpse, but it was enough. He’d read about her, of course, seen her in business magazines and interviews. Her achievements were astounding for someone so young. She was a hard-working woman, no doubt, the way she had not just maintained but practically raised the shares of the Thakur Empire spoke volumes of her capability. She had been in business, in some capacity, for a very long time, it seemed. And there was something else, something that tugged at his heartstrings every time he saw her. She carried a sweet, almost ethereal smile, a smile that reminded him so profoundly of Avantika, Ram’s mother. Siya was just like his daughter-in-law, a beautiful, intelligent, and kind soul.

Ram, bless his heart, had given them the right to choose his life partner. He trusted them implicitly. Vishambhar smiled, a genuine warmth spreading through his chest. Such a good boy, his Ram. He had raised him well, despite the tragedy. Now, it was time to bring joy back into his life.

"Fine, fine, I'm up," Vishambhar grumbled playfully, swinging his legs out of bed. "But you're buying me extra strong coffee."

"Done!" Sadhana chirped, already bustling towards the wardrobe. "Now, hurry along, Vishambhar-ji! The day awaits!"

***

The Experia Mall was a bustling hive of activity, even at noon. Shoppers swarmed like diligent ants, flitting between glittering storefronts, their voices a constant hum in the vast, air-conditioned space. Vishambhar, though usually a man of quiet contemplation, found himself enjoying the vibrant energy. Sadhana, of course, was in her element.

"I've heard that a new SYT shop has opened here, Vishambhar-ji," Sadhana said, her voice lilting with excitement. "Let's go and see some jewelry. For the wedding, you know." She winked mischievously.

Vishambhar nodded, a wide smile stretching across his face. "Excellent idea, my dear. The more sparkle, the better!" He scanned the crowd. "Where is your grandson? He was supposed to be here!"

"Oh, that boy," Sadhana sighed, though her eyes held a fond exasperation. "Your son had an important meeting with his team regarding the new ventures with Thakur Groups. They’re still in the process of finalizing the deal, you see."

"Hmph," Sadhana huffed playfully. "I am looking to order him to make Siya my GDIL as soon as possible first, then he can look into any deal!"

They both erupted into soft, conspiratorial laughter, their eyes twinkling. The thought of Siya and Ram, their Siya and their Ram, becoming a couple filled them with a quiet joy.

They settled into the plush velvet chairs of the SYT shop, a haven of glittering displays and hushed whispers. Vishambhar’s gaze drifted, taking in the opulent surroundings, when he saw her. Siya. She was standing near a display of intricate diamond necklaces, her back to them. She wore a beautiful long gown, its dark fabric a stunning contrast to her fair skin. Her hair, a cascade of dark waves, flowed freely, catching the light. She looked younger, fresher, even more beautiful than the pictures he had seen. She was truly a beauty.

He hadn't been formally introduced to her yet, no. The marriage, though, was as good as fixed by the elders, a quiet understanding solidified between the two families. He had, however, once asked Ekansh-ji about a particular painting in his office, a vibrant landscape, only to learn it had been made by Siya when she was just thirteen. Even though Avantika had been friends with Mridhula, Siya’s mother, he hadn’t been particularly close to the Thakur family until these recent business deals began.

"Sadhana-ji," he murmured, gently pulling his wife's attention. "Look." He subtly gestured towards Siya. "If she says yes, she would be your GDIL."

Sadhana’s eyes followed his, and a soft gasp escaped her lips. A wide, beatific smile spread across her face. They both sat there, unashamedly adoring their future daughter-in-law, a silent pact forming between them. Her baby face, so innocent and sweet, captivated them.

Suddenly, a woman's voice, sharp and dismissive, sliced through the tranquil hum of the shop, pulling Vishambhar’s attention away from Siya. But his wife’s eyes, he noticed, never moved from Siya’s face. What Vishambhar saw, however, was a flicker of pain, a glint of unshed tears in that sweet girl’s eyes. His blood began to simmer. He immediately recognized the young man standing beside the woman. His father, and the man himself, had tried to set up deals with their company countless times, but Ram, ever discerning, had never given their company a second glance. They were, in Vishambhar’s estimation, nothing more than opportunistic vultures.

“Look at her,” the woman sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. “Trying to pass off as some high-class socialite. Probably just here to gawk at things she can’t afford. Typical.”

The young man chuckled, a grating sound. “Oh, leave her be, darling. Some people just don’t know their place. The poor thing probably thinks these diamonds are just fancy pebbles.”

Vishambhar and Sadhana-ji exchanged a look, their faces a mask of controlled anger. The misbehavior of this couple was beyond infuriating. They continued to observe Siya Thakur, the only princess of the Thakur family, a brilliant woman by all accounts. What struck Vishambhar most was the way she held herself. Composed, her posture regal, even as those venomous words rained down on her. But then, as the couple crossed a line, he noticed her eyes. They hardened, a cold fire igniting in their depths, reflecting anger and disgust. She truly was a gem, a pure diamond.

Siya’s voice, when it came, was soft, almost a whisper, yet it cut through the air with the precision of a surgeon’s scalpel. “Perhaps,” she began, turning slowly to face the couple, a faint, almost imperceptible smile gracing her lips, “you are right. Perhaps I am merely ‘gawking at things I can’t afford.’ But then, what does that make you, who can afford them, yet lack the most basic currency of all?” Her smile widened, a subtle, knowing curve. “Dignity.”

The young man’s jaw dropped. His eyes, wide with surprise, stared at her. The woman, too, seemed to deflate, her haughty expression faltering. The way Siya spoke, with such quiet power and unwavering confidence, made Vishambhar trust her more than those two venomous people standing there. Her face remained innocent, that small smile still in place, but her words made him smile. An innocent woman who knew how to stand up for herself. He didn't know why, but a certainty bloomed in his heart: this was the only girl for his Ram.

He immediately pulled out his phone, discreetly. Click, click, click. He recorded the entire scene, the full, glorious display of Siya’s quiet strength. They were still enjoying the show, captivated by her composure. But her last statement, delivered with a casual shrug, truly solidified his conviction.

“Though, if you’re ever in need of a lesson in class, or perhaps a loan for some actual manners,” Siya continued, her voice light, almost amused, “do let me know. I’m always happy to help those in need.” Her smile remained, innocent as a child’s, but her voice, her walk, that subtle shift in her demeanor… she was a powerful queen, a sharp mind cloaked in a gentle exterior. She was, indeed, a GEM.

“Sadhana-ji,” Vishambhar whispered, his eyes still fixed on Siya as she turned and gracefully walked away, leaving the stunned couple in her wake. “I made the right decision getting her married to Ram. She is a GEM.”

The shop manager, who had been hovering nervously, sweating profusely as he witnessed the confrontation, was visibly shocked. He looked between the retreating figure of Siya and the fuming couple, then back at Vishambhar and Sadhana, who were beaming.

“This was the biggest news in the business world,” the manager stammered, addressing Vishambhar, “that Ram Rajvansh was getting married…”

Sadhana-ji, ever eager to share, chimed in, “Are, ji, she is the only daughter of Ekansh Thakur! The owner of the SYT chain!” Her reply made Vishambhar smile even wider. He saw the manager’s eyes widen to saucers, his face paling further. He was sweating profusely now, clearly nervous as hell, realizing he had just witnessed a scene involving the owner of the very shop he managed.

Vishambhar decided to put him out of his misery. He called for his attention, his voice firm but kind. “Manager Sahab.”

“J-Ji?” The man jumped, his eyes darting to Vishambhar.

“I want you to do something for me.” Vishambhar’s gaze hardened slightly. The manager gulped, bracing himself for the worst.

***

Two days later, the Thakur Mansion buzzed with a different kind of anticipation. The Rajvansh family had decided it was time to have dinner with the Thakurs, to formally introduce themselves to Siya. After all, she would soon be a part of their family.

Siya entered her house late that evening, the familiar scent of jasmine and old wood greeting her. The weight of the day’s office work, a mountain of spreadsheets and negotiations, clung to her like a second skin. She made a beeline for her room, shedding her crisp business attire for something more comfortable, a white long frock with an Indo-western cut that felt soft and cool against her skin. She gathered her hair into a loose bun, a few tendrils escaping to frame her face.

Taking a deep breath, she walked towards the grand living room. The murmur of voices reached her before she even saw them. Guests. Her parents, Ekansh and Mridhula, were seated on the plush sofa, their faces alight with a welcoming glow. An old couple sat opposite them, their expressions kind, a hint of anticipation in their eyes.

Siya smiled, her nerves a faint flutter in her stomach. She folded her hands in a traditional greeting. “Namaste!” Her voice was soft, melodic. She greeted everyone, her gaze sweeping over the unfamiliar faces, before gracefully settling onto the empty side of the sofa, beside her parents.

“Namaste, bacha. How are you, beta?” The old Mrs. Rajvansh, her eyes crinkling at the corners, asked, her voice warm and gentle.

Siya’s smile widened, genuine and sweet. “All good, Dadi maa. I hope you are well too.”

The old man, Mr. Rajvansh, leaned forward slightly. “Do you know us, beta?”

Siya blinked, a faint blush rising on her cheeks. “Nahi… I am sorry.” She replied sweetly, her eyes flicking to her father, a silent question in their depths.

Ekansh Thakur smiled at his daughter, a loving warmth in his gaze. “Betu, they are the elders of the Rajvansh family. We are currently working on a collaboration with them. They are also our old friends and are here for dinner with us. We were waiting for you.”

Siya’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. Ram Rajvansh. She had met him before, briefly, at a few business functions, but never his family. “Oh! I am sorry for keeping you guys waiting. You all chat; I will go and check in the kitchen with today’s dinner.” She smiled, a hint of nervousness now evident in her eyes, but she carried herself with an effortless grace, her composure impeccable. With another polite nod, she walked out of the room, leaving the elders to their conversation.

Once she was out of earshot, Sadhana-ji turned to Mridhula, her eyes sparkling. “She is a happy child. I like her very much.”

“Yes, she is,” Mridhula agreed, a proud smile on her face.

“Well,” Sadhana-ji began, her voice dropping slightly, “we are here to tell you what happened yesterday with Siya…” She then recounted the entire incident at the SYT shop, her voice calm but her eyes flashing with indignation. Vishambhar, meanwhile, pulled out his phone and played the recorded video, the scene unfolding silently before Ekansh and Mridhula. As they watched Siya's quiet strength, her cutting words, and the stunned faces of the rude couple, a wave of worry washed over them. They knew their daughter was strong, but to see her face such ugliness… Their hearts ached, and a cold anger settled in their chests.