As the flames engulfed the once lively halls of the school and charitable trust, Vish stood at a distance, his cold eyes reflecting the inferno. The crackling of burning wood was music to his ears the symphony of his supposed victory. He believed he had erased every trace of resistance, every innocent soul who dared to stand against his empire. The smoke danced like a crown above his head, and in that moment, he felt like a god untouchable, victorious.
Leela, the fierce protector, was gone. The children? Presumed dead. With no more obstacles, Vish saw the world bowing at his feet. He moved swiftly, establishing his underground laboratory in the deserts of Rajasthan, masked under the guise of innovation, but steeped in darkness. He poured money into secrecy, built walls around truth, and slept peacefully believing the war had ended before it even began. But what he didn't know what no flame could destroy was the spark that still burned in the hearts of four survivors. The next chapter of vengeance and destiny unfolds in Billion Dollar Love, a saga of lost bloodlines, shattered legacies, and a love strong enough to change fate itself.
SIX MONTHS LATER
Now a Fourth-year LLB student in Delhi, Arvind stood silently at their grave months later. He placed three garlands one for each of the fallen, and a third for Rani Sa. "I swear on you," he whispered, "I will protect our people. I will rebuild our Haveli. I will take down Vish." He turned, heart heavy but eyes full of fire. Because Arvind was no longer just a boy from a trust. He was a prince. A protector. And the war had just begun. He will take revenge and take over everything which he lost . He will put the persons behind the bars and trap him into the cases which are non-bailable and he has to find his brothers and sister.
All of them adjusted to the new environment and their parents are loving them like their own children. Even Aakash's father and mother belong to the middle class family. His father is an IT professional and mother is a teacher but they are earning well. But Aakash missed the charitable children and his elder brother Arvind, second brother Aarav and his sister Sanya.
TEN YEARS LATER – 2007
The winter breeze of early January swept through the narrow lanes of Delhi, brushing past the towering buildings and crowded marketplaces. The air carried a silent message, echoing the weight of time. Ten long years had passed since the tragedy that had transformed a group of young lives forever. On the outskirts of the city, where the urban sprawl met the shadow of history, stood a tall, stately man Arvind, now a 28-year-old advocate, known far and wide for his mastery in criminal law and narcotics cases.
Draped in a crisp black coat over a charcoal-grey suit, Arvind stood silently before three headstones, their names engraved in silence. He placed three garlands one for each soul lost that fateful day, The grave encrypted Sanyukta, Second Prabhas , Third Leela and a fourth for Rani Sa, the woman who loved Sanyukta as her own child . The Fifth and Sixth stone were encrypted as Ramesh and Sakshi, who was his uncle and Aunt. The cold air didn't shake his firm stance, but his eyes glistened with a memory that refused to die. He has to find his father's stone which was in Rajasthan but before that he has to find his brothers and Sister. "I swear on you," he whispered, his voice catching the hush of the wind, "I will protect our people. I will rebuild our Haveli, Charitable Trust and School. I will take down Vish."He still has not recovered from the shock which happened ten years ago. It's a nightmare for him.
As he turned, the sunlight broke through a blanket of grey clouds, painting gold over the ruins of what once was. The Haveli, now in fragments, stood like a warrior who had seen too much war dignified, broken, but not forgotten. And so stood Arvind, no longer a boy from a charitable trust, but a prince reborn in the fire of justice. A protector with a burning mission. A storm ready to strike.
While Arvind battled criminals and corrupt empires in the heart of India's capital, his siblings were scattered across the globe, their paths unknowingly diverging and connecting through the strings of destiny. Far away, in the lush countryside of England, Aarav, now twenty, stared blankly out the window of a prestigious university. The rain tapped softly on the glass, and the clouds rolled endlessly over the moors. The campus was alive with youthful energy, but Aarav felt like an island detached, drifting.
Handsome yet distant, Aarav struggled with shadows only he could feel. He had grown into a reserved young man, kind-hearted yet trapped within. He was a scholar of economics, a quiet genius, but there was a tremble in his soul he never spoke of. His trauma ran deep born of two brutal incidents in childhood that had scarred his confidence, leaving him with a haunting fear of public speaking.
Twice he had tried to open up in front of a crowd once at a school event, where mocking laughter tore through his tender heart, and again at a college debate, where a panic attack left him breathless on the floor. Since then, the stage became his battlefield, and he, a soldier without armor. But what disturbed him more was a strange allergic reaction his body recoiled at the touch of any woman. Skin contact triggered his breath to falter, his heartbeat to race, and his mind to dissolve into fear. No doctor could find the cause, but deep within, Aarav knew it was linked to the past he had forgotten.
Across the Atlantic, in the vibrant cityscape of New York, Sanya breathed in the early morning sun that filtered through the blinds of her Manhattan apartment. Twenty years old and already a rising star in psychology, she was often called a miracle worker. Her ability to diagnose mental trauma and psychosomatic illnesses in record time earned her accolades, but it was more than talent it was a gift.
Sanya had what many called a magical touch. Her presence alone calmed patients, and her intuition bordered on the divine. But Sanya had never returned to India. The memories of her childhood were a blur, lost in the folds of time and transition. Yet, on quiet nights, a voice would echo in her dreams an elder brother calling her Sanu with tenderness, another one laughing, and a small boy clutching her finger.
She would wake up with tears on her cheeks and a longing she couldn't name. In a warm household in Haryana, a young boy with curious eyes and a book always tucked under his arm sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by a flurry of toys and encyclopedias. Aakash, now fifteen, was the pride of his school, a first-grade topper with a memory like a sponge and the kindness of a saint.
He lived with a loving couple and his adoptive parents. His father, an IT professional with gentle eyes, would always smile when Aakash hugged him tight after a math lesson. His mother, a schoolteacher, adored him like her own flesh and blood. Yet, Aakash often gazed at the stars at night, feeling like a part of him lived in another universe. He missed his siblings Arvind Bhaiya, with his serious eyes and warm hugs; Aarav Bhaiya, who always protected him from bullies; and Sanya Didi, whose lullabies still whispered in his dreams. He never knew why they weren't around, and no one ever gave a clear answer. But his heart knew. Somehow, they were meant to reunite.
Back in Delhi, Arvind sat in his vast chamber filled with books, case files, and the scent of justice. He had grown powerful not just with wealth or position, but with purpose. He had spent the last ten years tracking Vish, the man who destroyed their family, orchestrated the betrayal, and stole their inheritance.
Arvind had built a network, gained allies, and gathered every piece of evidence. His plan was not just to expose Vish but to bury him under the weight of non-bailable offenses, money laundering, blackmail, and more. The time was near. But Arvind's greatest wish was not revenge, it was to find his siblings.
He had searched everywhere, but Aarav and Sanya were lost in the system. Aakash had been easier to locate, thanks to a social worker who recognized his name from the trust. Arvind ensured he was placed with a good family, visited him occasionally in disguise, and sent anonymous gifts on his birthdays. Every time he saw the boy, his heart would shatter and heal at the same time.
The universe had scattered four stars in different skies, each glowing alone. In England, under the grey clouds, Aarav struggled with an invisible war. In America, amidst the skyscrapers, Sanya healed others while ignoring the wound inside her. In Haryana, Aakash learned, smiled, and waited. In Delhi, Arvind prepared for a storm that would shake the roots of evil. And as fate would have it, the time was approaching. Letters would be sent. Flights would be booked. Truths would be uncovered. And when they returned to the land where it all began, the Haveli would rise again. Because the war wasn't over. It had only begun.