Chapter 3 : Advay

Three years had passed since the day Rohan was born.

In his previous life, three years would have been a short, forgettable span of time—just a fraction of his busy corporate existence. But as an infant, every single day had been a lesson in patience. The first few months had been the hardest. Trapped in a fragile, uncoordinated body, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to even hold his own head up, he had felt a rare kind of helplessness. Yet, his mind had remained sharp, intact—an adult consciousness hidden behind the unassuming eyes of a newborn.

It had taken time, but he had adapted. He had no choice.

His vision had been blurry at first, his limbs weak, but his ears had worked just fine. And so he had listened. Every snippet of conversation, every passing remark from his parents, his sister, and the household staff—he absorbed it all, piecing together the puzzle of his new life.

And what a life it was.

His father, Arjun Rai, was a name spoken with respect and admiration. Even the household staff seemed to carry a quiet reverence when they spoke of him. At just 31 years old, Arjun was already a titan in the business world—the sole owner of Rai Group, a multinational conglomerate worth millions, possibly even billions. Unlike many corporate heirs who inherited their empires, Arjun had built his from the ground up. He was a self-made man, an entrepreneur whose sharp instincts and relentless drive had taken him to the very top.

It was a story that Rohan, as a former CEO himself, deeply respected. To build something so vast, so powerful, at such a young age—it was no small feat.

His mother, Ilana Ivanov, was no less extraordinary. Even without seeing her past career firsthand, Rohan could tell she had once been a world-class beauty. She had once been a Russian model, gracing fashion runways across Europe, appearing on magazine covers, and capturing the attention of the world. From what he had gathered, she and Arjun had met during a business trip. Whatever had transpired between them must have been powerful, because Ilana had walked away from her career, choosing a life in India over the glamorous world of modeling.

Then there was Aditi Rai, his 10-year-old sister.

Aditi was a force of nature.

She wasn't just intelligent—she was a genius. Always at the top of her class, effortlessly excelling in every subject, she had the kind of brilliance that couldn't be ignored. But what set her apart wasn't just her intelligence—it was her personality. She was warm, funny, and endlessly energetic, filling their home with laughter and chaos in equal measure. She treated Rohan like her own personal doll, always fussing over him, playing with him, talking to him even before he could respond.

Rohan, of course, played along.

Rohan had spent three years wrapped in her attention—her chatter, her playfulness, her unwavering belief that he was the cutest, smartest baby in existence. He had to admit, it was nice. In his past life, he had been alone. No siblings, no parents, no family to return to after long workdays. This was new to him. And despite knowing that this family wasn't his by birth, he felt something he had never felt before—belonging.

And their family was small.

No uncles, no aunts, no distant cousins. It was just the four of them—Arjun, Ilana, Aditi, and himself. It might have been lonely for others, but they didn't seem to mind. And neither did Rohan. Because in his past life, he had nothing. Now, he had everything.

Soft hands pulled the fabric over his tiny arms, adjusting the sleeves with gentle precision. Rohan—no, Advay—blinked as his vision settled on the two figures fussing over him—his mother, Ilana, and his sister, Aditi.

"Hold still, little prince," Ilana murmured, smoothing out the golden embroidery on his small kurta. Her emerald-green eyes shimmered with warmth as she adjusted his stole, making sure everything was perfect. "You're going to look so handsome today."

Aditi sat beside him, her excitement barely contained as she held up a tiny beaded bracelet. "And look at this!" She dangled it in front of him proudly. "It has your name on it—your real name."

Rohan—Advay—stared at the bracelet. The beads were strung together neatly, each one carrying a single letter: A D V A Y.

The name felt right.

Ilana gently fastened it around his tiny wrist. "Your father and I thought long and hard about this name." She ran a soft hand through his slightly wavy black hair. "Advay. It means 'unique, one without a second.'"

Aditi grinned, bouncing on the edge of the bed. "Cool, right? I made sure it wasn't something lame like Chintu or Pappu."

Ilana gasped, pretending to be offended. "Aditi! Are you saying your father and I would give your brother a bad name?"

Aditi giggled, shaking her head. "I mean, I had to check! What if you picked something weird? But don't worry, Advay is awesome. It suits him." She turned to him with a dramatic flourish. "Welcome to the family, officially, baby Advay Rai!"

Advay, meanwhile, could only silently thank every divine force in existence for Aditi's intervention.

Chintu? Pappu?

He shuddered internally. Could he even imagine introducing himself in the future with a name like that? "Hello, I'm Pappu Rai, CEO of Rai Group." No, absolutely not. His business instincts from his past life rebelled at the very thought.

His lips curled into an involuntary little smile.

Yes, Advay was a name he could carry with pride. A name that belonged to him—not Rohan, the orphan-turned-CEO, but Advay Rai, the boy who had been given a second chance at life.

And for the first time in both lives, he felt genuinely happy.

The soft rustle of silk and murmured voices filled the air as Aditi carried Advay carefully down the grand steps leading to the expansive lawn of their mansion. The entire area was bathed in the golden glow of the late morning sun, casting a warm radiance over the beautifully decorated space where family and honored guests had gathered.

The naming ceremony, steeped in tradition, was set beneath a lavish white canopy adorned with strings of fragrant jasmine and marigold flowers. The gentle scent of sandalwood and incense drifted through the air, blending with the hushed conversations of the assembled guests—business elites, models, and close associates of Arjun and Ilana—all present to witness the special moment.

At the center, a sacred fire (Agni) crackled softly, its flickering flames casting a warm glow upon the faces of the priest (pandit ji) and Advay's parents, who were seated before it. The priest, an elderly man with wise eyes, recited Vedic mantras, his rhythmic chanting resonating in the air as he performed the rituals, invoking the blessings of the gods for the newborn child.

Ilana, draped in an elegant cream and gold saree, held Advay in her arms, her emerald-green eyes reflecting a quiet reverence. Beside her, Arjun sat tall, dressed in a pristine ivory sherwani, his expression composed yet brimming with pride.

Aditi, in a rich red and gold lehenga, grinned as she gently patted Advay's chubby cheek. "You're about to be officially introduced to the world, little bro," she whispered.

The priest took a golden plate filled with sacred rice and kumkum, using it to trace a delicate symbol on Advay's tiny forehead. Then, he dipped a peacock feather into a small bowl of honey and gently touched it to the baby's lips—a symbolic gesture ensuring a life filled with sweetness and wisdom.

Finally, Arjun leaned in, his deep voice steady yet filled with emotion as he whispered his son's name into his ear, as per tradition:

"Your name shall be Advay."

A hush fell over the gathering, followed by a murmur of approval. The guests clapped softly, offering their blessings as the priest called for the concluding rites.

Ilana pressed a gentle kiss to Advay's forehead, her voice soft yet full of love. "Advay Rai. One without a second, unique and strong."

Aditi beamed. "Told you it was a cool name."

The priest blessed Advay, tying a thin black thread around his tiny wrist, a protective charm to ward off evil. The ceremony concluded with a shower of rose petals from the gathered well-wishers, a symbol of love and prosperity for the newest member of the Rai family.

As the soft petals brushed against his skin, Advay, who had been unusually quiet, blinked up at the world around him.

For the first time in both lives, he wasn't alone. He had a name. A family. A future.

The afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the sprawling lawn, where laughter and playful chatter filled the air. Advay sat comfortably on Aditi's lap, his tiny hands clutching the soft fabric of her lehenga as he observed the group of children gathered around him. His sister's friends, dressed in their finest festive attire, had finished their share of sweets and were now fully captivated by him—or more specifically, his eyes.

"They're so green," one of the girls, a curly-haired child named Meera, whispered in awe, crouching closer to get a better look. "I've never seen anyone with green eyes before!"

"I know, right?" another boy, Aryan, chimed in. He leaned forward, peering curiously at Advay's face. "They look like those shiny gems my mom wears in her necklace!"

Aditi, ever the proud sister, grinned as she hugged Advay protectively. "Of course! My baby brother has the coolest eyes ever." She tilted his face slightly so they could all see. "They're just like my mom's."

"Does that mean he'll look more like your mom when he grows up?" Meera asked, tilting her head thoughtfully.

Aditi scrunched up her nose. "Hmm… not really. He has Dad's hair. Super black and wavy. And his skin's kind of in between both of them. But his eyes—those are all Mom's."

Aryan's eyes widened. "That means he'll be really handsome when he grows up!"

At this, Aditi puffed up with pride. "Obviously. He's my brother."

Advay, who had been quietly absorbing everything, blinked as he processed their words. His past self had never really thought about his appearance beyond keeping a professional image, but here he was, being admired like some rare artifact. It felt… strange.

Another girl, Anya, giggled. "He's going to break so many hearts when he grows up!"

Aditi snorted, ruffling Advay's already tousled hair. "Please, he's a baby right now. His biggest problem is learning how to say my name properly."

Advay, still too young to speak fluently, simply babbled in response, making the children burst into laughter.

Meera clapped her hands. "He's so cute! Can we take him to play with us?"

"No way," Aditi said firmly, hugging him tighter. "He's my baby brother. You guys can play with him, but I'm not letting him go."

The group agreed, and soon enough, they were all playing simple games, taking turns making silly faces at Advay to get him to giggle. And as he laughed and played, he felt a warmth settle in his heart.