The broker adjusted his cap, leading Ishaan, Niti, and Madhura through the narrow streets of Virar, the afternoon sun casting long shadows over the bustling market. The earlier flats had been a disappointment—cramped, damp, with peeling paint and faint smells of mildew. Ishaan's resolve hardened as they approached the next option, but first, he turned to his mother and sister, his voice low but firm.
"Before we go further," he said, glancing around to ensure no eavesdroppers, "this tension between us, the YouTube channel—it stays secret. No one can know I'm behind 'Modern Ninja.' Not the uncles, not anyone. I might try modeling too, face covered, but that's also under wraps. Agreed?"
Niti nodded eagerly, her eyes wide with understanding. "I won't tell a soul, Bhaiya. Promise."
Madhura's lips pressed into a thin line, her silence heavy, but after a moment, she gave a curt nod. "Fine. Keep your secrets. Just don't drag us into trouble."
"Good," Ishaan said, satisfied. "Let's see the next place."
The broker unlocked the door to a three-BHK flat, and as they stepped inside, the air shifted—cleaner, brighter. The living room opened up with a spacious hall, sunlight streaming through large windows onto polished floors. A generous balcony overlooked a quiet street, promising fresh air and a view of distant hills. The bedrooms were well-sized, each with semi-furnished wardrobes, and the kitchen boasted a fridge, a washing machine, a TV, and sturdy beds already in place. The locality hummed with life—near markets and schools, yet removed from the chaos of central Mumbai.
Niti's face lit up, spinning around the hall. "Bhaiya, this is amazing! Look at the balcony—we could sit there with tea!"
Ishaan smiled, noting the rent—40,000 rupees monthly, steep but worth it. "I like it. We'll take it."
Madhura's brows furrowed, her voice cutting through Niti's excitement. "Forty thousand? That's too much. We can't afford such luxury—not with court battles looming. The 4 lakhs won't stretch far."
Ishaan faced her, his tone steady. "I told you—I'll cover it. One lakh monthly—rent, groceries, extras. This flat's a fresh start, not a burden. You deserve better than cramped corners."
Madhura crossed her arms, skepticism etching her face. "And where's this money coming from? More YouTube magic?"
"Legit earnings," Ishaan replied, keeping it curt. "Trust me on this. Use the 4 lakhs I gave you for necessities—kitchen utensils, curtains, whatever you need. Build a home."
She fell silent, her gaze dropping to the floor, the weight of his insistence sinking in. Niti, however, bounced on her toes, tugging at Madhura's sleeve. "Mom, please! This is our chance—away from the uncles, their fights, their control. No more bickering every day!"
Madhura sighed, her resistance crumbling under Niti's plea and the flat's promise. "Alright. But we watch every rupee."
"Deal," Ishaan said, turning to the broker. "Sign the lease today. We'll move in this week."
The broker grinned, pulling out papers. "Excellent choice, sir. I'll handle it."
As they toured the flat again, Niti chattered about decorating the balcony with plants, her voice a melody of hope. Madhura remained quiet, inspecting the fridge and wardrobes with a critical eye, but her tension eased slightly. For Ishaan, the space felt like a fortress—shielding them from the Ahuja chaos, a step toward fulfilling Rajesh's promise. A home, not just a hiding place, he thought, the weight of responsibility lightening with each detail they planned.
Niti hugged him suddenly, her voice soft. "Thank you, Bhaiya. This feels… free."
Ishaan ruffled her hair. "You deserve it. Both of you."
Madhura watched, her expression unreadable, but the faintest nod acknowledged the shift. The flat, with its high rent and sturdy bones, was more than a dwelling—it was a declaration of independence from the uncles' grip, a new chapter carved from YouTube's unexpected bounty.