The next morning, after breakfast, Adil asked his parents to sit down with him in the living room. His serious expression immediately told them this was not an ordinary conversation.
"I've been meaning to tell you both something," Adil began. "A few months ago, I opened an investment account through a Swiss bank. When the Soviet Union started collapsing, I believed the rouble would continue losing value. I took a short position against the Soviet rouble."
Arif looked at him, confused. "Short position?"
"It means I was betting that the currency would fall," Adil explained. "When it collapsed, I closed the position at the right time."
"How much did you make?" Meera asked quietly.
Adil hesitated for a moment before answering. "Around forty crore rupees."
Neither of his parents spoke. Arif simply stared at his son, trying to decide whether he had heard correctly.
"Forty crore?" he repeated slowly.
"Yes."
"And this is all legal?"
"Completely legal," Adil replied. "Everything was done through the bank. I have all the transaction records and documents."
Arif let out a long breath and shook his head. "I knew you were intelligent, but I never imagined something like this."
Adil continued, "I've already used ₹4.9 crore to purchase a commercial building."
"You bought a building?" Meera asked, still overwhelmed.
"Yes. I didn't buy it as an investment property. I bought it because it's going to become the headquarters of my first company."
Arif leaned forward. "What company?"
"A production house," Adil answered. "Right now I'm an actor, but I don't want to remain dependent on producers forever. One day I want to produce my own films and television serials, discover new talent, and build a studio that stands for quality."
His father nodded thoughtfully. "That makes sense. And the building?"
"It gives me an office and a long-term asset. Instead of paying rent every month, I'd rather own the place."
"And that's all?" Meera asked.
Adil smiled. "No. My second business will be a fast-food chain."
"A fast-food chain?" Arif raised an eyebrow.
"I've been thinking about it for a long time. India has thousands of restaurants, but very few professionally managed fast-food brands that can expand nationwide. If we build a business with consistent quality, reasonable prices, and quick service, we can open branches across the country."
Arif remained silent for a few moments before speaking. "Films and food are two completely different businesses."
"They are," Adil admitted. "That's why I won't run everything myself. I'll hire experienced professionals. My job is to provide the vision, the capital, and make the important decisions."
Meera looked at her son with pride. "You've planned much further ahead than we realized."
Arif smiled faintly. "Forty crore is a lot of money, Adil. It can disappear just as quickly if you're careless."
"I know," Adil replied. "That's why I don't want to spend it on luxury. I'd rather build businesses that keep creating wealth long after my acting career is over."
Arif nodded approvingly. "Then you have our support. Just promise me one thing."
"What?" Adil asked.
"No shortcuts. Build everything honestly, even if it takes longer."
Adil smiled. "I promise."
The following afternoon, Adil drove his parents to Andheri West. As the car came to a halt before the fifteen-storey commercial building, Arif and Meera looked up at it in silence. The modern glass façade reflected the winter sun, making the building appear even more imposing than they had imagined.
"This is the building I told you about," Adil said quietly.
For several moments, neither of them spoke. Arif stepped out of the car and slowly walked toward the entrance, his eyes moving from the polished granite walls to the company name temporarily displayed on a small board near the lobby. Meera followed him, still trying to comprehend that her twenty-year-old son owned an entire commercial building.
"You really bought this?" Arif asked, almost in disbelief.
Adil smiled and handed him the registered sale documents. "Everything is complete. The property is fully registered."
Arif carefully glanced through the papers before returning them. He looked at his son for a long moment, pride evident in his eyes.
"I never imagined I'd see something like this in my lifetime," he said softly.
Meera folded her hands and looked toward the sky. "May God always keep you humble and protect you from evil eyes," she whispered before placing her hand affectionately on Adil's head.
The three of them spent nearly an hour walking through the empty building as Adil explained how each floor would eventually be used. Listening to his plans, both Arif and Meera realized that this wasn't an impulsive purchase. Every detail had already been carefully thought out.
When they finally left, Arif placed a reassuring hand on his son's shoulder.
"We're proud of you," he said. "Just remember that success brings responsibility."
"I know," Adil replied with a smile. "I won't forget."
The following day, Adil began work in earnest. The fifteen-floor building in Andheri West that he had purchased for ₹4.9 crore during the final days of December was far more than an office address. It was the foundation upon which he intended to build his future. Sitting alone in his temporary office with the architectural drawings spread across his desk, he carefully began assigning each floor.
The fifteenth floor and the topmost floor, would be entirely his. It would serve as both his private residence and executive office. Covering nearly eight thousand square feet, the front section would house his office, a spacious meeting lounge, a conference room for confidential discussions, a library, and an adjoining office for his personal assistant, Arjun. The rear section would be converted into his private living quarters, complete with a master bedroom, kitchen, dining area, lounge, two bathrooms, and a personal study.
Bombay's traffic consumed countless hours every day. By living in the same building from which he operated his businesses, he intended to save the one resource he valued above everything else, time.
The eleventh to fourteenth floors would become the headquarters of Zenith Film Productions. The eleventh floor would house administration and creative development, the twelfth finance, legal affairs, and archives, the thirteenth executive offices and conference rooms, while the fourteenth would serve as the company's creative hub with script rooms, pre-production facilities, and editing suites.
The sixth to tenth floors would be allocated to the administrative headquarters of Zest Fast Food Private Limited. This was not the operational base of the food chain itself. The individual outlets across Bombay would manage their own daily operations. This was the central nerve system, the place where accounts were maintained, audits were conducted, supply chain orders were processed, expansion planning was handled, and all major administrative decisions for the entire ZEST network were made. Although the restaurant chain would not begin operations until later in the year, its corporate headquarters had to be established from the beginning. The sixth floor would accommodate finance, the seventh operations and supply chain management, the eighth human resources and training, the ninth marketing and brand development, and the tenth floor would be reserved for the company's senior executives, including Managing Director Vikram Puri.
The fifth floor would contain shared facilities for both organizations, including a boardroom, staff training centre, medical room, records storage, and cafeteria.
The first to Fourth floors would remain vacant for future plans. Adil intended to build a Security Company on these floors.
The ground floor would serve as the reception lobby with visitor management and security, while the basement would provide parking for nearly sixty vehicles, along with the generator room and other utility services.
Looking over the completed floor plan, Adil allowed himself a brief smile.
Every property connected to his businesses, from this headquarters to the future ZEST Outlet locations across Bombay, would be owned outright. There would be no landlords, no lease renewals, and no monthly rent. Every title deed had been verified, registered, and secured through Aditya Narayan's legal office.
If he was going to build an empire, he wanted its foundations to belong to him.
The renovation contract had already been awarded to one of Bombay's most reputable construction firms, and work commenced on January 3rd, with multiple floors undergoing renovation simultaneously. The fifteenth floor received top priority since Adil intended to move into the building as soon as it became habitable.
The next morning, he began making calls. Within two days, news spread rapidly through Bombay's film industry. Experienced executives, production managers, accountants, and legal professionals began expressing interest in joining his new venture. More than sixty enquiries reached him through phone calls, recommendation letters, and industry contacts. His reputation had opened doors long before his company officially opened them.
News of him starting his own bus's reached the newspapers. The headlines appeared across Bombay over the following days.
FILMFARE: ADIL ALI STARTING HIS OWN PRODUCTION HOUSE? SOURCES CONFIRM
CINE BLITZ: THE PRINCE GOES BEHIND THE CAMERA, ADIL ALI'S BIG BUSINESS MOVE
SCREEN WEEKLY: ZENITH FILM PRODUCTIONS: ADIL ALI'S AMBITIOUS NEW CHAPTER
STARDUST: AT JUST NINETEEN, ADIL ALI WANTS TO OWN BOLLYWOOD, IS HE READY?
News of his fast food chain business has not yet reached Media.
Adil skimmed through the newspapers over his morning tea before setting them aside. Publicity could wait. Building the companies came first.
He personally interviewed every senior candidate, believing that the first employees would determine the culture and standards of the organization. Every appointment had to be right.
The first appointment he confirmed was Rajiv Shenoy as General Manager of Zenith Film Productions.
Forty-one years old, Rajiv had spent nearly fifteen years managing productions for one of Bombay's established mid-sized production houses. He possessed an excellent reputation for discipline, budgeting, and keeping film schedules on track, qualities that were rare in an industry notorious for delays and cost overruns.
During the interview, Adil asked only one question that truly mattered.
"What do you believe is the most important responsibility of a General Manager?"
Rajiv answered without hesitation.
"To make sure the organization functions efficiently enough that creative people can focus on being creative. If administration becomes a problem, management has already failed."
Adil smiled.
"You're hired."
Rajiv accepted immediately at a monthly salary of ₹25,000.
The second appointment was Priya Kapoor, thirty-four, who joined as Head of Production. Having coordinated several successful films over the previous eight years, she had earned a reputation for remaining calm under pressure. Directors trusted her, technicians respected her, and she understood every stage of filmmaking, from pre-production to the final day of shooting.
Her salary was fixed at ₹18,000 per month.
For finance, Adil deliberately avoided hiring someone from the film industry.
Instead, he appointed Suresh Iyer, a thirty-eight-year-old Chartered Accountant with over a decade of corporate finance experience.
During the interview, Suresh looked directly at Adil and said, "I've never worked in films."
"That's exactly why you're sitting here," Adil replied. "I want clean books, proper audits, and complete transparency. I have no interest in the accounting practices this industry is famous for."
Suresh smiled.
"In that case, we'll get along."
His monthly salary was fixed at ₹15,000.
The company's Legal Executive became Meera Desai, a twenty-nine-year-old corporate lawyer who had spent five years with a respected Bombay law firm. She impressed Adil with her preparation, professionalism, and attention to detail. Before arriving for the interview, she had already studied the registration documents of both Zenith Film Productions and Zest Fast Food Private Limited.
Her salary was ₹13,000 per month.
For Creative Development, Adil selected Rajan Mehta, a thirty-six-year-old former assistant director with an exceptional understanding of screenwriting. His responsibility would be to evaluate every script submitted to Zenith and identify projects worth developing.
"You'll probably reject ninety-five percent of what arrives," Adil told him.
Rajan laughed.
"If the remaining five percent are exceptional, it'll be worth it."
His monthly salary was ₹14,000.
Finally, Adil appointed Arjun Tiwari as his Personal Assistant. At twenty-six, Arjun lacked the experience of the others but came highly recommended for his efficiency, discretion, and ability to remain composed under pressure.
"Working with me won't be a nine-to-five job," Adil warned.
"I wasn't looking for one," Arjun replied confidently.
His salary was fixed at ₹10,000 per month.
With the senior leadership in place, Adil gathered them in the unfinished conference room on the thirteenth floor for their first meeting.
The walls were still being painted, electricians were working outside, and the sound of drilling echoed throughout the building. Yet Adil considered it the perfect place to begin.
He looked around the table before speaking.
"Most production houses are built around one successful producer. I don't want that. I want Zenith to become an institution that continues producing great films long after I'm no longer acting."
Everyone listened attentively.
"I don't care about office politics. I don't care about flattery. I care about professionalism, honesty, and results. If anyone has a better idea than mine, I expect them to say so. Good companies aren't built by people who simply agree with the boss."
Rajiv nodded in approval.
Adil continued.
"Our reputation will be our greatest asset. We will honour every contract, pay every employee on time, treat every technician with respect, and never compromise our integrity. If we build that reputation, talented people will come to us on their own."
The room fell silent for a moment before Rajiv spoke.
"I think we've all joined the right company."
One by one, everyone around the table nodded in agreement.
For the first time, Zenith Film Productions no longer existed merely on paper. It had become a living organization, led by people who believed in the same vision.