While everyone at the Raichand house was busy preparing to surprise the newest member of their family, another kind of surprise was unfolding thousands of miles away.
And unlike the excitement at home, this one came wrapped in silence, tension, and a very angry CEO.
The conference room had started as any other business meeting.
Files were arranged across the table, laptops were open, reports were being discussed, and several department heads were ready with their presentations.
But within minutes, the atmosphere changed.
One report contained incorrect figures.
Another department had failed to follow the instructions given earlier.
A few important details had not been cross-checked before being submitted.
And what made the situation worse was that these weren't isolated mistakes. One mistake had led to another, and eventually, the entire issue had reached Krish's table.
Krish sat at the head of the conference table, silently going through the documents.
His expression gave nothing away.
That was precisely what frightened everyone.
He turned one page.
Then another.
Finally, he placed the file on the table.
"Who approved this?"
Nobody answered immediately.
Krish slowly raised his eyes.
"I asked who approved it."
One of the employees finally gathered enough courage to speak.
"Sir, I was responsible for that report, but the figures were provided by—"
"I didn't ask who provided them."
His voice wasn't loud.
It didn't need to be.
The employee immediately stopped.
Krish leaned back in his chair, his gaze moving from one person to another.
"You had one responsibility. Verify the information before it reaches this table. Instead, everyone assumed someone else had done it."
Nobody dared to interrupt.
Another employee tried to explain the delay in their department, but Krish cut him off with a single look.
The meeting room slowly began to feel less like a workplace and more like a tiger's den.
A hungry one.
An angry one.
And everyone inside knew exactly who the tiger was.
Krish's patience had reached its limit.
"Do you people even understand what one careless decision can cost this company?"
His fingers tightened around the edge of the file.
"I don't have a problem with mistakes. Mistakes can be corrected. What I have a problem with is incompetence being hidden behind excuses."
The room remained completely silent.
Krish stood.
For a moment, nobody moved.
He looked around the table one last time.
His expression was cold enough to make the message clear without a single word.
Come in front of me with another careless mistake, and you are dead.
He turned and walked out.
The conference-room door closed behind him.
For several seconds, everyone remained frozen.
Then someone finally exhaled.
Another person quietly leaned back in his chair.
A few exchanged looks.
No one said anything.
They had survived the storm.
For now.
Krish entered his cabin and shut the door behind him.
The anger hadn't disappeared.
If anything, being alone gave it more room.
He walked toward the window, staring outside while replaying the entire meeting in his mind.
His phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
Raj.
Krish answered.
"What?"
There was a brief pause.
"Bhai—"
Krish's irritation immediately returned.
"Raj, if this is about something unnecessary—"
"Bhai, I started the mission."
Krish stopped.
For a moment, there was silence.
He took a slow breath and leaned against the edge of his desk.
"Say it."
Raj hesitated before speaking again.
"I was actually calling to inform you about something."
Krish's expression changed slightly.
The irritation remained, but his attention sharpened.
He already understood that Raj wasn't calling just to waste his time.
"Go on."
Raj began explaining.
Krish listened.
He didn't interrupt.
Whatever Raj was saying, something in his tone made Krish's expression slowly become more serious.
His eyes moved toward the documents lying across his desk, but he wasn't looking at them anymore.
His attention was somewhere else entirely.
Raj continued speaking.
And Krish remained silent.
What exactly had Raj called to tell him?
That answer would have to wait.
Because sometimes, the most important information wasn't the information that was spoken immediately.
It was the information that quietly changed what came next.