Shraddha

I woke up feeling a heavy weight pressing down on my chest. As I slowly opened my eyes, my vision was blurred and unfocused. The room seemed to spin lazily as I blinked a few times, trying to regain clarity. A dull throbbing pounded behind my temples, an unwelcome remnant of the previous day's illness.

Gradually, my surroundings came into sharper focus. I turned my head and found my husband sleeping beside me, clutching me tightly as if his life depended on it. His arms were wrapped around me possessively, and his face was buried in the crook of my neck. I gently lifted his hand from my stomach and placed it aside, taking a moment to study his features. His brow was furrowed, and his lips were set in a tight line, a reminder of the anger he had displayed the night before.

Despite his outburst, I knew our love ran deeper than the cracks that threatened to break us. Last night, I had wanted to tell him the name - the name he longed to hear from me. The name of the person who had tried to tear us apart, who had nearly taken our unborn child, Rudra, from us. But I held my tongue, afraid of the consequences, afraid of shattering the man I loved beyond repair.

I could tolerate his anger towards me, his hatred even, but the thought of losing him forever was unbearable. He could ignore me, rage at me, but deep down, I knew he still cared. Yet when he had uttered those words - "I am here to take care of Rudra" - something within me had broken.

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I hastily wiped them away, determined not to let them fall.

I removed his hands slowly, careful not to disturb his slumber, and slid off the bed. As I stood, my eyes grew heavy, and I reached out to steady myself against the lamp table. But a wave of dizziness overcame me, causing a vase to tumble from the table, shattering on the floor with a resounding crack that filled the room.

Before I could stumble, a strong arm wrapped around me from behind, steadying me.

"Shraddha, are you alright?" His voice was laced with concern. "Why are you even standing? Who told you to walk? Don't you understand that the medication has a dizzying effect?" The words tumbled out in a frantic rush, his worry palpable.

My palm rested against his firm chest, seeking support as his strong arms encircled my waist, holding me close. I shook my head gently, my words a whisper, "I thought it would be alright, but I lost my balance. I'm fine, you don't have to care." His grip tightened around my waist as the words left my lips, and his gaze met mine, eyes blazing with a rage I couldn't comprehend, a storm brewing within those dark depths that so often remained silent.

"What's this 'don't care' attitude since yesterday?" he demanded, his voice low and intense. "I will care, it's not always your choice. I will decide what's good for me, my wife, and my son." His words hung in the air, heavy with conviction, as he looked deep into my eyes, those obsidian orbs now flickering with an enigmatic fire.

"I have good news for you, by the way," he continued, his tone shifting ever so slightly. "Ekansh killed Samar Rajput. Finally, I'm relieved. It's up to you whether you'll tell me the name; only one will die, but if not, then I will vanish the entire Rajput lineage from this planet."

As his words washed over me, my eyes widened, fear gripping my soul like icy tendrils. No, this couldn't happen. Now they would target him and Rudra, my two lifelines - one who was my life, my pain curer, my everything, my maan; the other a piece of us, a relic of our love. My heart drowned in the fear of losing them, the terror of being bereft of the two most precious beings in my world.

Schooling my features, I pushed the worry from my face, unsure why I remained silent whenever he inquired about the incident that had brought me there. His hold loosened around my waist as confusion clouded his gaze, clearly expecting a reaction from me. With a slight shift, I turned and walking away when he grabbed my shoulders and spun me around to face him. His eyes were intense, burning with a mix of desire and frustration. Before I could say a word, he pulled me forcefully against his body and crushed his lips against mine.

At first I was taken aback by his aggressive passion, but then my lips parted involuntarily as desire sparked within me. His kiss was ardent and demanding, as if he was trying to convey all the pent-up emotion and anger he felt towards me through the searing embrace of our mouths.Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, blurring the world into a kaleidoscope of color.

My hands gripped the front of his shirt as I kissed him back feverishly, getting lost in the deep, needful strokes of his tongue against mine. It was a Kiss fueled by confusing mix of anger and lust, leaving me breathless and aching for more of his fervent attention.

Though part of me felt I should protest his forceful advance, the primal hunger behind his kiss melted my resistance. I could only cling to him and surrender to the storm of passionate anger he was venting through our ardent liplock.

As our passionate embrace broke, I found myself gasping for air, my chest heaving with rapid breaths. I shifted my gaze towards him, taking in his tousled appearance - he looked utterly lost, running an agitated hand through his disheveled hair. A heated flush crept up my neck as I became acutely aware of my swollen lips, tender from the fervent assault of his hungry kisses.

Our eyes met briefly, and I saw the storm of emotions raging behind his darkened irises. With a muttered curse, he abruptly turned and stalked away, disappearing through the balcony doors. I knew this meant he needed space, a moment to rein in the turbulent desires that so often threatened to consume us both.

Alone now, I raised a trembling hand to my tingling lips, memories of his searing caresses still searing my skin. A heady mixture of desire and trepidation swirled within me as I tried to steady my ragged breathing. Part of me ached to chase after him, to lose myself in his passionate embrace once more to be in his arms and forget everything that hunt me. But another part understood his need for solitude, to wrestle with the tempest of yearning that so often left us both unraveled.

I shifted uncomfortably, my legs struggling to balance the weight of my body. It had been like this since that dreadful night when I was pregnant. The incident left me physically weakened, and I feared this fragility would be my lifelong plight. Rudra's health had suffered due to my foolishness, and this was one of the reasons my husband resented me, claiming he could never love me again. Our son was born malnourished, and the doctors warned his immunity was compromised because I neglected my own well-being during pregnancy. Tears stung my eyes as the guilt washed over me like a tidal wave. I hastily wiped away the salty drops, unaware of when they had started to fall.My son's innocent face only reinforced my resolve. I would die before letting anyone harm my child or the man who had given me renewed purpose to live.

With shaky steps, I made my way towards the closet to retrieve my clothes when my husband's raised voice caught my attention. He was yelling into the phone, but I couldn't make out the words. When had he even picked up the call? Shaking my head wearily, I continued towards the bathroom, clutching my outfit tightly. Once inside, I found myself staring into the mirror, hardly recognizing the woman staring back. My hair was a tangled mess, my lips swollen, and my face alarmingly pale - a ghost of the vibrant, confident beauty I once was. The woman madly in love with the man who had promised to cherish her forever. Now, I looked utterly defeated.

Yet, through all the turmoil, I remained grateful to the divine for blessing me with Rudra. He was my sole reason to persevere, my everything. "Mera baccha. Meri jaan." I whispered, fresh tears clouding my vision. Inhaling deeply, I steeled my resolve and slipped into a saree that drapes gracefully around my body. The soft gray fabric cascades down in elegant folds, decorated with dainty polka dot patterns scattered across its expanse. As I gather and arrange the pleats, the luxurious material feels cool and lightweight against my skin.

With measured steps, I returned to our bedroom, but my husband was nowhere in sight, not even on the balcony. Worry gnawed at my heart as I made my way towards the dining room, praying he had not left in his heated state.

___________________________

Drishti

The warm golden rays of the morning sun caressed my face, gently rousing me from the sweet embrace of sleep. As my eyes fluttered open, I looked down and couldn't help but smile at the sight of little Rudra, his head resting peacefully on my chest as he slept soundly atop my stomach. I'm not sure when during the night he had snuggled up to me, but there he lay, his tiny body rising and falling with each soft breath. To my right, Manyu's head was nuzzled into the crook of my neck, his arm draped protectively over my waist. I was completely enveloped by their warmth, cocooned between their sleeping forms in a tender cage I didn't want to escape.

Careful not to rouse them, I lightly rubbed soothing circles on Rudra's back, drinking in these precious moments. My gaze then shifted to Manyu's face, and I remembered the conversation from last night - his reluctance about having a child so soon. A small smile tugged at my lips as I recalled the fleeting look of jealousy that had flashed across his features when I fawned over Rudra. With a featherlight touch, I pressed a gentle kiss to Manyu's temple.

A familiar ache blossomed in my heart as I wrestled with the longing to start a family of our own, to hold a baby that was equal parts him and me. It didn't matter if it was a boy or girl - I had always envisioned our little trio, a loving family unit of three. But that beautiful dream kept shattering against the harsh realities of my past.

The memories came rushing back, as vivid as the day they occurred - my father's cruelty, my brother's venom, their combined efforts to crush my life, my happiness, my very soul beneath their boots. I knew all too well why they fawned over Manyu now, their sudden niceties a thin veneer over their true motives. My brother's insatiable ambition, his desperate need to rise above Manyu's political prowess in Rajasthan.

But Manyu...he was so different, so full of care and compassion. In these three fleeting months, he had shown me a tenderness I had been denied for so long. He wanted to heal the fractures between us, to soothe the broken shards of my heart. Yet I felt helpless, trapped by the fear that my father and brother would unleash their wrath upon us both if they suspected the love growing between Manyu and I.

It was my father who had tried to sell me off to that English businessman like cattle. Manyu had been the one to intervene at our wedding, defiantly marking my hairline with vermilion, staking his claim and intertwining our fates forever with that single, bold gesture.

When I first caught sight of Manyu at my father's party house just a week before our ill-fated marriage, I was instantly transfixed. He glided into the room exuding an effortless confidence, his lean frame clad in a crisp white kurta that hung loosely over fitted jeans. But it was his face that truly arrested me - chiseled features framed by high cheekbones, eyes that danced between rich browns and vivid greens in a captivating hazel gaze. A vermilion tilak adorned his forehead, striking against his olive skin.

An undeniable magnetism radiated from him, an enigmatic blend of tradition and contemporary flair. The way he carried himself commanded respect, radiating quiet strength and depth. I couldn't tear my eyes away, spellbound by his mere presence. In that moment, he seemed almost ethereal, like a figure stumbled out of an ancient epic into modernity.

Yet my heart clenched with the memory of my mother's dying gasps as my own father mercilessly took her life before my eyes, his devilish laughter still ringing in my ears. The trauma of that day had shattered something inside me irrevocably. I had lost myself, questioning why a cruel god kept me alive to witness such atrocities.

When Manyu intervened at our wedding to save me from that same monstrous fate, I understood his feelings ran deeper for me. But I could never reciprocate, not when my father could so easily exploit that tender vulnerability to destroy the man I...I cared for too much to ever put in harm's way. I had to keep him at arm's length, no matter how stubbornly he tried to draw me close.

A sudden featherlight touch on my forehead made me flinch, my arms tightening protectively around little Rudra cradled in my embrace.

I glanced over to find Manyu already awake beside me, and I couldn't help but gaze at his drowsy form. His hazel eyes were open, those long lashes resting against slightly flushed cheeks. His chestnut hair was an adorable rumpled mess, the strands sticking up haphazardly from tossing against the pillow. I had to stifle a giggle at just how boyishly disheveled he looked first thing in the morning. Those deep hazel pools locked onto mine, still glazed with sleepy haze but sparkling with warmth. A lazy, lopsided smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Morning, Jaan," he mumbled, his voice deliciously husky and gravelly from sleep.

"Morning," I murmured back. He smiled at me, then frowned when his gaze landed on Rudra. "Why is he sleeping up there?" he grumbled, pointing at Rudra nestled against me.

"He must have gotten uncomfortable in the night," I reasoned. "He's just a baby, stop fussing."

Manyu averted his eyes with an exaggerated huff that made me smile despite myself. "Kon kahega ki aap pradesh ke Mukhyamantri hai , ekdum baccho jaise jid krate hai "("Who would guess the Chief Minister of the state behaves like such a petulant child?")

His hazel gaze snapped back to mine. "Ha toh hum apni biwi ko bina hug kiye raat bhar soye aur yeh hamari biwi ke itne pass so rahe hai, Aap inki Chachi hai aur hamari biwi boliye kiska haq pehla hai aap per"("Well, of course I'm acting this way - I had to spend all night without hugging my wife, while he slept curled up against you. You're his aunt, but I'm your husband - who has the first claim on you?")

I rolled my eyes, mentally kicking myself for goading him when I should have known better.

"Waise bhi humko ab do din aap se milne ka mauka nahi milega"he murmured, his voice taking on a sadder tone, ("Besides,","I won't get the chance to see you for a couple days anyway.")

My heart clenched at his words. "Kya matlab, mauka nahi milega"("What do you mean, you won't get the chance?")

"I have to go to Delhi for work."

A pang of disappointment lanced through me. As much as I loved being surrounded by my family, Manyu's presence completed me in a way nothing else could. I would surely miss his warmth, his teasing, his easy affection over the next couple days.

"Aap abhi se humko miss karnengi toh kaise chalega ("How will it be if you miss us from now on?")

" he tsked, leaning in close enough that his lips brushed tantalizingly against my ear. "How will you cope?"

My thoughts stuttered to a halt, a tremor of desire shooting through me at his proximity. I shot him a look as I carefully maneuvered Rudra to lay between us on the bed.

"I think I'll manage just fine," I said, fighting a smile.

"Theek hai phir, ab jab kisi ko hamari yaad nahi ayegi toh hum, kuch aur din baad ayenge, kisi ko intezar hi nahi hai hamara toh theek hai, kehne ki baate hai ki aapki biwi aap ka intezar karti hai yaha per toh pati chala bhi jaye toh koi......"I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart as Abhimanyu's words pierced through me like a thousand needles.

His voice trailed off as I swiftly placed my hand over his mouth, my eyes stinging with tears that threatened to spill. The mere thought of him leaving my life, even temporarily, felt like a crushing weight on my chest, constricting my ability to breathe. How could he not understand that his absence would leave a gaping void within me, one that no amount of time could fill?

Just then, a sudden movement from little Rudra caught my attention. The sweet infant, blissfully unaware of the turmoil brewing inside me, shifted closer and opened his innocent eyes, gazing at me with a questioning look and my hands on Manyu then he pulled my hands towards him by his baby hands. In that moment, his presence was like a soothing balm, reminding me to cherish the beauty of the present rather than dwelling on uncertain futures.

With a tender smile, I gently wiped away the tears that had escaped, determined not to let my emotions overwhelm the precious moments with this bundle of joy. Rudra giggled in response, his infectious laughter melting away the tension that had gripped my heart just moments ago.

"Drishti," Abhimanyu's concerned voice reached out to me, but I couldn't tear my focus away from Rudra, finding solace in his pure, untainted wonder.

"Buddy, Chachu needs to talk to chachi, please sleep for more 5 minutes," Abhimanyu said softly, attempting to soothe the now-restless infant with gentle pats. But Rudra was having none of it, wiggling irritatingly, as if sensing the undercurrent of emotions in the room.

Instinctively, I reached out and tossed Abhimanyu's hands away, my protective maternal instincts kicking in. "Don't, he is just awake, he will start crying," I cautioned, my voice laced with a tenderness reserved solely for this precious child.

Abhimanyu looked at me helplessly, his eyes silently pleading for an understanding that seemed elusive in that moment.

Turning my attention back to Rudra, I cooed, "My baby wants to go to mumma, ha?" His bright smile was all the confirmation I needed, and I couldn't help but melt a little more inside.

"Okay, so I will take you to mumma, but first, let chachi change her dress, okay? What about chachi make you bath?" I suggested, running my hands over his tiny tummy, eliciting a burst of joyous laughter that felt like a soothing balm to my soul.

As I glanced up, I caught Abhimanyu's amused gaze, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of affection and understanding. "Inko aap pasand aa gayi hai," he remarked, a hint of teasing in his tone.

I smiled back at him, my heart swelling with a newfound sense of contentment as I pressed a gentle kiss to Rudra's forehead. "Now, bade chachu will make you bath," I declared playfully, finding a childish delight in riling up Abhimanyu, even if only momentarily.

"Why Me ?" he said, shaking his head adamantly. I looked at Manyu, his brows furrowed in determination. He abruptly stopped his movements and let out a deep sigh, resignation settling on his face.

"Theek hai, bas aap keh rahi hain isliye, per ek shart par, aap kisi ko yeh nahi batayengi," he said, eyeing me intently. I felt amused at his insistence on secrecy over something as mundane as bathing, but curiosity got the better of me. I nodded in agreement, a small smirk playing on my lips. Manyu's face broke into a warm smile as he ushered little Rudra towards the washroom.

"Manyu," I called out impulsively. He turned towards me instantly, our eyes locking. For a moment, I was transfixed by the depth of emotion swimming in his dark orbs.

"Haaye, aap aise humko kisi din heartattack de dengi jaan," he said with a feigned angry expression, attempting to conceal the tenderness underlining his words.

A warmth bloomed in my chest at his endearment. "Hum Rudra ke kapde rakh denge, aap unko pehnaa dijiyega, aur ha, aap ke saare kapde closet mein reset kar diye hain humne, toh le lijiyega,"I said, almost shyly. "Aur...kuch nahi, bas itna hi ab jayiye."

I smiled at my awkward rambling, equal parts charmed and perplexed by his attentiveness. As I made my way to the closet to retrieve a fresh saree,

With the soft saree bundled in my arms, I walked towards the adjacent room.

All brothers had separate floors for themselves, leaving many vacant rooms available. After taking a refreshing shower, I changed into a gorgeous teal-colored saree that exuded elegance and sophistication. Shimmering accents were woven throughout the saree, catching the light beautifully and adding a touch of glamour. It's draped gracefully over my figure, hugging my curves in all the right places. The rich hue complemented my skin tone perfectly, making me feel like a vision of regal beauty.

I returned to the room and found Manyu wrapped in a towel, struggling to dress little Rudra, who was giggling gleefully. The scene warmed my heart as I watched them with a fond smile playing on my lips. As Rudra finally emerged, fully clothed in a casual summer outfit - a white t-shirt with a palm tree graphic and the text "Los Angeles" printed on it, paired with matching beige shorts featuring a small palm tree motif and crisp white sneakers - he looked utterly adorable, exuding a relaxed, beach-inspired vibe.

However, when my gaze shifted to Manyu, my body betrayed me with a sudden shiver. I felt my heartbeat quicken as my eyes raked over his partially clothed form, the towel slung low on his hips, leaving little to the imagination. A flush of heat crept up my neck, and I mentally chastised myself, "Get a grip, Drishti." Yet, as if sensing my inner turmoil, Manyu flashed me a cocky smirk, his eyes darkening with an unmistakable intensity that sent another tremor coursing through me.

I entered the room, my steps faltering slightly as Manyu prowled towards me with a predatory gaze that rendered me frozen in place. As he drew closer, the air seemed to crackle with an electrifying tension. My senses were overwhelmed by his masculine presence - the faint scent of his soap mingling with the warmth radiating from his body, the sound of his measured breaths filling the charged silence between us.

Just then, a tap on the door behind me startled me from my trance-like state. I whirled around to find Veer standing there, a mischievous smile playing on his lips as if he had witnessed the entire exchange. A wave of embarrassment washed over me, coloring my cheeks a deeper shade of crimson as I averted my gaze, suddenly finding the intricate patterns on the floor utterly fascinating.

"Good morning guys, at least don't do uneven things in front of innocent children," Veer's voice rang out, laced with amusement.

"Children? There is only one child here," Manyu retorted from behind me, his deep baritone sending a shiver down my spine.

" Other One is me, your innocent baby brother. Right, buddy?" he cooed, turning his attention to little Rudra, who clapped his hands gleefully upon seeing his beloved uncle.

"Vvvv..." Rudra babbled in his sweet, baby voice, eliciting a warm smile from me.

"Yes, buddy. Your V here," Veer affirmed, striding over to scoop Rudra into his arms, peppering the giggling infant's cheeks with affectionate kisses.

"You're following my instructions like a good buddy, huh?" he murmured, his voice thick with adoration.They look cute together.

"Okay, guys, you both continue. We both innocent ones are leaving," Veer declared, though his mirthful glance in my direction betrayed his teasing insinuation. As he sauntered towards the door, cradling Rudra close, he paused and turned back slightly. "Drishti, you're looking hot today," he remarked with a wink, causing my eyes to widen in surprise.

"Bhabhi hai vo teri (She's your sister-in-law)," Manyu's curse resonated from behind me, prompting Veer to erupt into a peal of laughter as he disappeared down the hallway, his boisterous guffaws echoing in the distance. I couldn't help but smile at their endearing bickering.

Turning to face Manyu, I found him advancing towards me with a predatory gaze that sent my heart into a frenzied staccato. I instinctively backed away, only to have my retreat halted by the solid wall against my back. He closed the distance between us, the heat of his towel-clad form radiating in waves, until he was standing mere inches away, trapping me in his smoldering presence.

With a featherlight touch, he slid his hand along the bare expanse of my waist, his calloused fingers leaving a trail of delicious friction against my sensitive skin. I hissed at the electrifying contact, my breath catching in my throat as desire unfurled low in my belly.

"Uff, jaan, aap humari jaan le lenge ek din (Oh my love, you'll be the death of me one day)," he murmured huskily, his hazel eyes darkening to a molten amber as they bored into mine.

"Aap ko late nahi ho raha (you are not late)?" I challenged breathlessly, my pulse thrumming with a heady mix of trepidation and yearning.

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing tantalizingly against the shell of my ear. "Aap kahenge toh hum nahi jayenge, aap ke paas hi reh jayenge (If you say so, I won't leave, I'll stay right here with you)," he purred, his words igniting a conflagration of desire that threatened to consume me whole.

Rendered speechless by the intensity of his proximity, I found myself drowning in the depths of his smoldering gaze, helpless against the gravitational pull of his magnetism.

"Koi jarurat nahi, aap toh aur din ke liye jane wale the na, toh jayiye ab (There's no need, you were supposed to leave for a few more days, so go ahead now)," I managed to utter, weakly attempting to assert some semblance of control as I gently pushed against his chest. But he remained unmoved, his solid form an impenetrable bastion against my feeble resistance.

"Sorry, hum promise karte hain, bas 2 din nahi, 1 aur aadha din phir hum yahi honge, aap ke paas (Sorry, I promise, not 2 days, just 1 and a half day, then I'll be right back here with you)," he vowed, his words igniting a spark of hope within me that I swiftly attempted to extinguish.

Yet, deep down, a part of me thrilled at the prospect of his swift return, craving the consuming intensity of his presence like a moth drawn to a flame. "Sach mein promise kar rahe hain (You're really promising)?" I found myself asking, a hint of vulnerability seeping into my tone as I searched his eyes for sincerity.

He nodded solemnly, his gaze burning with an unspoken promise that resonated through every fiber of my being.

"Jayiye, kapde pehniye pehle (Go on, get dressed first)," I murmured, raising a tentative hand to smooth the rumpled fabric of his towel in a futile attempt to maintain some semblance of propriety.

A roguish smile curved his lips as he leaned in once more, his breath fanning warmly against my skin as he pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead. Then, with a final, smoldering glance, he turned and strode towards the closet, emerging moments later clad in a stylish navy blue printed kurta with an intricate geometric pattern all over. The long sleeves and collar lent it a polished yet relaxed vibe, perfectly complementing his rugged charisma.

As he moved to fasten the buttons, his deft fingers occasionally offered tantalizing glimpses of the toned planes of his chest, stoking the embers of desire that smoldered within me. I found myself mesmerized by the fluid grace of his motions, the play of muscle beneath bronzed skin, and the sheer, magnetic force of his presence that seemed to command the very air around him.

Clearing my throat, I tore my gaze away, silently cursing the treacherous stirrings of my body even as my heart yearned for the connection his touch promised. This man possessed an inexplicable hold over me - one that both exhilarated and terrified me in equal measure.

He smirked knowingly as his piercing gaze raked over me, seeming to strip away every layer of composure I desperately clung to. Lost in the mesmerizing depths of his eyes, I felt myself becoming unraveled by the sheer intensity of his presence. A heated flush crept up my neck as memories of his tantalizing proximity mere moments ago flooded my senses. The phantom traces of his calloused fingers still burned deliciously against my bare skin, igniting a smoldering ache within me that I struggled to subdue.

"Chale (Shall we go)?" I murmured, averting my gaze in a futile attempt to collect myself, acutely aware of the thunderous pounding of my heart.

"Ji, chaliye (Yes, let's go)," he acquiesced smoothly, his rich baritone caressing the words in a way that seemed to reverberate through my very core.

As we made our way out, the charged silence between us was a palpable force, rife with an undercurrent of yearning so potent, it threatened to unravel the last vestiges of my restraint. Each step echoed with the weight of unspoken desires, the air crackling with a tension so taut, it felt as though the slightest misstep might shatter the fragile equilibrium.

Casting a sidelong glance at him, I found myself entranced by the rugged lines of his chiseled profile, the sharp angles of his jaw accentuated by the stubborn set of his mouth - a mouth that had mere moments ago branded me with the searing promise of his imminent return. A tremor of anticipation rippled through me as I imagined the delicious havoc those lips could wreak upon my senses.

Suddenly, his gaze shifted, capturing me in its smoldering intensity, as if he could sense the heated path my thoughts had taken. A slow, knowing smirk curved his lips, and I felt my breath hitch in my throat, ensnared by the magnetic pull of his presence. In that moment, it was as if the world around us had fallen away, leaving only the two of us suspended in a void of shared yearning, teetering precariously on the precipice of surrender.

___________________________

Kiara

My eyes fluttered open, heavy with lingering sleep. The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. I reached out, my hand expecting to find the familiar warmth of his body beside me. Instead, my fingers met only cool, rumpled sheets.

Confusion clouded my mind as I rubbed my bleary eyes, trying to shake off the fog of slumber. Didn't he come home late last night? The memory was hazy , but I recall all the interaction we had, his gentle kiss on my forehead. So why was he awake so soon?

A knot of unease formed in my stomach as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. The plush carpet tickled my bare feet as I padded across the room, my heart rate quickening with each step. I checked the en-suite bathroom, peeked into the walk-in closet, even glanced in the balcony , perhaps, but desperation was setting in.

As the silence of the empty room pressed in around me, a familiar fear clawed its way up my throat. Had he gone out for "work" again? The very thought made my chest tighten, a mix of worry and frustration threatening to overwhelm me.

I sank onto the edge of the bed, my fingers curling into the sheets. I hated this part of him - the dangerous, unpredictable world he inhabited. The constant worry that gnawed at me, wondering if each goodbye might be our last. But even as that hatred burned, another emotion surged within me, equally powerful.

Because despite it all, I couldn't deny the way my heart still raced when he walked into a room. He was everything my teenage self had dreamed of - and so much more. I closed my eyes, picturing him vividly.

That boyish charm that never failed to make me smile, even on my darkest days. The way his curls fell in perfect disarray across his forehead, begging for my fingers to run through them. His body, strong and sculpted, a testament to the dangerous life he led but also a source of comfort when he held me close.

And then there was his face - features that looked as if they'd been carved by a master artist. High cheekbones, a strong jaw, and lips that could curve into the most devastating smile. But it was his eyes that truly captivated me. Deep, endless pools of blue that reminded me of the ocean on a stormy day. Eyes that could pierce through my defenses with a single glance, that softened with tenderness when we were alone.

I hugged myself tightly, torn between my fears and my care. How could someone be both my greatest joy and my deepest source of anxiety? The contradiction of emotions left me feeling raw and vulnerable.

He was out there, risking his life in a world I could never truly understand - was almost too much to bear.

When he first came to my house, I opened the door with trembling fingers. His face was obscured by a dark cloth, revealing only his eyes - piercing and intense. He was dressed impeccably in a crisp black suit that seemed to absorb the fading evening light. My heart raced, each beat echoing in my ears as a chill ran down my spine.

My hands throbbed, sticky with drying blood from where my father had viciously stabbed the broken wine bottle, its jagged edges slicing into my palms. The metallic scent of blood mingled with the lingering aroma of spilled wine, making my stomach churn. Tears had left salty tracks down my cheeks, and my eyes felt swollen and raw from crying. My once-favorite dress now clung to me, stained dark with patches of crimson that spread like inkblots on paper.

His gaze swept over me, pausing at my injured hands. In that moment, I watched his eyes transform. What had been a clear, almost luminous blue darkened to the color of a storm-tossed sea. A flicker of something dangerous - anger? possession? - flashed across his face before vanishing behind an unreadable mask.

My voice caught in my throat as I tried to speak, fear and confusion warring within me. "Wh...oo arreee yo.uu?" The words came out barely above a whisper, my tongue feeling thick and clumsy.

"You don't know me, baby," he replied, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers across my skin. "But I know you perfectly. I know every inch of you." There was an unsettling intimacy to his words, a possessiveness that both terrified and intrigued me.

Before I could react, he gently but firmly pushed past me, the warmth of his hand on my shoulder a stark contrast to the cold dread pooling in my stomach. I turned, watching him stride purposefully into our small, cluttered living room.

My father sat hunched on our threadbare couch, his eyes widening in recognition and fear as the stranger entered. The air in the room seemed to thicken, charged with an unspoken history and barely contained violence.

That night marked our first meeting, but even then, I sensed it wouldn't be our last. In the days and weeks that followed, I would come to know him as a man of startling contradictions. With me, he was gentle, almost tender - never raising his voice or laying a hand on me in anger. But I also glimpsed a ruthless brutality in how he dealt with others, a cold efficiency when it came to violence that both repelled and fascinated me.

I found myself caught in an impossible tangle of emotions - fear, gratitude, and a growing, confused affection that I didn't dare name. Each day brought new questions: Was I truly safe with him? Could I trust the kindness he showed me, knowing the cruelty he was capable of? And most troubling of all - why did a part of me long for his presence, even as another part of me screamed to run?

Flashback

The aroma of brewing tea wafted through the cramped kitchen as I prepared breakfast for my father. Our small cottage-like house, barely suitable for living, was a constant reminder of how far we'd fallen. The peeling wallpaper and creaky floorboards told the story of my father's descent into mafia gambling, which had swallowed our savings and my dreams of finishing law school. The weight of our financial debt pressed down on me, making even the simple act of making tea feel like a monumental effort.

Suddenly, my mother's scream pierced the air, shattering the fragile morning calm. My heart leaped into my throat, a cold sweat breaking out across my skin. Fear gripped me as I imagined what that man-I could barely think of him as my father anymore-might be doing to her. Without hesitation, I abandoned the kettle and raced towards the stairs, my bare feet slapping against the worn wood.

I reached her door, out of breath and trembling. My fists pounded against the unyielding surface as I pleaded, "Dad, please don't hurt her! Open the door, please!" The silence that answered me was deafening, broken only by my mother's muffled sobs and his menacing growls.

His voice, rough with anger, carried through the thin walls. "You want this, right? Give me that locket, give it to me, or you'll be dead today!"

My mother's voice, weak and quavering: "I don't have any locket."

Realization dawned on me, a sickening twist in my gut. The locket-my grandmother's last gift to my mother. A delicate golden piece with a tiny diamond that sparkled like a tear. It was our only connection to a happier past, and now he wanted to take even that away.

"Liar!" he roared. "My mother gave you that locket. Tell me where it is, bitch!"

I redoubled my efforts, my palms stinging as I slammed them against the door. "Dad, dad, we don't have that locket! Please don't hurt her, please!" My voice cracked with desperation. I slid down to the floor, my forehead pressed against the cool wood, tears streaming down my face. The pain in my hands was nothing compared to the ache in my chest, the fear for my mother consuming me.

In that moment, a plan formed in my mind. It was risky, but I had to try something. Wiping my eyes, I took a deep breath and called out, my voice steadier than I felt, "Dad, I have the locket. Open the door, please. Take it from me." My heart raced, knowing I was lying, knowing I'd rather die than give him that last precious memento if I did have it.

The lock clicked, and I scrambled back from the entrance. As he emerged, my eyes widened in horror. In his hands, he clutched a metal rod, its surface glinting dully in the dim hallway light. "Mom!" The name escaped me in a painful gasp, my imagination running wild with what he might have done.

He loomed over me, a titan of rage and cruelty. His 6'5" frame dwarfed mine, his long, unkempt beard and the jagged scar across his cheek making him look more monster than man. Before I could react, his hand shot out, fingers tangling painfully in my hair. I cried out as he began dragging me towards the stairs, my scalp burning, tears springing to my eyes.

"Chodiye hume dad(let go of me , dad)!" I pleaded in hindi, my native tongue spilling out in my distress. But my words fell on deaf ears as he hauled me down the stairs, my ankle scraping against each step, sending sharp jolts of pain up my leg.

His words cut deeper than any physical pain. "You both bitches destroyed my life. You're both useless!" The venom in his voice made me flinch, a mix of fear and anger churning inside me.

A metallic tang filled my mouth, the aftermath of the blood that trickled from my split lip. The air vibrated with the echo of my scream, a high-pitched, desperate sound that seemed to hang in the air long after it left my lungs. Each vicious word my father spewed felt like a physical blow, the venom dripping off his tongue leaving stinging welts on my already bruised spirit.

A grunt escaped my mother's lips as she stumbled down the stairs, her grip on the railing leaving streaks of crimson in her wake. My breath caught in my throat. Her usually vibrant green eyes, the color of spring meadows, were vacant, glazed over with a chilling numbness. Cuts, raw and angry red, marred the pale canvas of her skin. A whimper tore from my chest, morphing into a choked sob that wracked my entire body.

Hot tears streamed down my face, blurring the scene before me. My vision tunneled, focusing solely on my mother. She stood before the raging inferno that was my father, her slender frame dwarfed by his imposing form. Her voice, usually so full of warmth and life, was a broken whisper, "Please, don't hurt her."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis as he shoved her aside with a force that sent her sprawling. The sickening thud of her body hitting the floor echoed in my ears, a counterpoint to the roar of anger and betrayal that threatened to consume me.

"You're both useless, just useless!" His voice boomed, shaking the very foundation of our world.

Another scream ripped from my throat, a primal cry of pain and fury. My mother lay crumpled on the floor, her eyes wide open but devoid of life. They were vacant, a chilling abyss staring back at me. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage, desperate to break free. Panic clawed at my throat, its icy grip stealing my breath.

Through the haze of terror, I saw a flicker - a ghost of a smile on my mother's lips. "I'm fine, baccha," she rasped, her voice barely a whisper. "It's nothing. Your mom is strong."

The words were both a comfort and a stab to my heart. Strong? How could she be strong when she lay there, broken and unseeing? My own strength seemed to ebb away, replaced by a bone-deep weariness. My limbs felt like lead, each movement a monumental effort. Yet, I crawled towards her, propelled by a fierce love and a desperate need for connection.

"Bitches" my father murmured.

That's was just the Start of that night, that unforgettable night which made me half dead.

Flashback Ends

My cheeks were damp, tears still clinging to my lashes. That night haunted me, a vivid nightmare I couldn't shake. My head throbbed, the world tilting on its axis as I stumbled to the bathroom, desperate for relief.

The cold shower hit my skin like tiny needles, shocking my system. Gradually, the icy cascade washed away the fog of despair. I closed my eyes, letting the water stream down my face, mingling with the last of my tears. Time seemed to stop as I stood there, my racing thoughts finally quieting.

After what felt like an eternity, I emerged, wrapping a fluffy towel around my trembling body. The room was silent. Too silent. "Veer?" I called out, my voice barely above a whisper. No answer. My stomach clenched with worry and a hint of fear.

I moved to the closet, my fingers trailing over fabric until they found the light blue saree. The delicate material shimmered in the dim light, promising a moment of beauty amidst the chaos of my emotions. I draped it carefully, the familiar ritual bringing a small measure of comfort. The sleeveless blouse with its sweetheart neckline .

But as I stepped out of the closet, my fragile composure shattered. Veer stood there, fully dressed in casual clothes - a crisp grey and white striped shirt paired with white shorts. He turned, his eyes meeting mine, and I saw his brow furrow.

My heart raced, a storm of questions and fears swirling in my mind. Why was he frowning? Was he upset with me? The beautiful saree suddenly felt like armor, protecting me from the intensity of his gaze.

I wanted to speak, to bridge the gulf between us, but words failed me. The silence stretched, charged with unspoken tension. My fingers nervously smoothed the fabric of the saree, seeking comfort in its soft texture.

In that moment, I felt both exposed and guarded, torn between the desire to run into his arms and the instinct to protect my fragile heart. The room seemed to shrink, the air thick with anticipation. What would happen next? The uncertainty was almost unbearable, leaving me frozen in place, awaiting Veer's next move with bated breath.

He approached me, his steps measured and deliberate. As Veer cupped my face, his touch was gentle, almost reverent. His deep brown eyes searched mine, filled with concern. "Aap ro rahi thi?" ("Were you crying?") he asked softly, his warm breath brushing against my skin.

I shook my head in denial, but my heart raced with the lie. His familiar scent - a mix of sandalwood and something uniquely him - enveloped me, threatening to break down my walls.

Veer's lips pressed against my forehead, tender and comforting. "Aap ko pata hai na hum jante hai ki aap kab humse kuch chupa rahe hai,I hate when you lie " ("You know we can tell when you're hiding something from me,") he murmured, his words vibrating through me. I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. How did he always see through me?

"Then, tell me," he urged, his voice a soothing balm to my frayed nerves.

I took a shaky breath, my fingers unconsciously twisting the fabric of my saree. "I woke up and aap yaha nahi the," ("I woke up and you weren't here,") I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. "Humne aap ko kitna dhoodha per, kha the aap?" ("I searched for you so much, but where were you?") My eyes searched his face, desperate for reassurance.

A small smile played on his lips. "Hum yahi the, baby," ("I was right here, baby,") he said, before capturing my lips in a light, sweet kiss. I leaned into him, craving more, but he pulled back, leaving me yearning.

"How about this one?" Veer's eyes sparkled with mischief. "After breakfast, I have a surprise for you."

Curiosity piqued, I tilted my head. "Surprise?" The word held promise, momentarily pushing aside my earlier distress.

He hummed in confirmation, then enveloped me in a warm embrace. I rested my head against his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. In that moment, I wished I could freeze time, to stay forever wrapped in the safety of his arms. The world outside felt chaotic and uncertain, but here, with Veer, everything made sense.

The shrill ring of his phone shattered our peaceful bubble. Veer answered with a casual, "Ha, bhai." ("Yes, brother.")

"Well, need some privacy with Drishti, huh?" he teased into the phone. Realizing it was Abhimanyu bhaiya, I playfully swatted Veer's shoulder. He responded by planting a quick kiss on my cheek, his stubble lightly scratching my skin.

"Ok, I am coming," Veer said before ending the call. He turned to me, his expression softening. "Bhai is asking me to take Rudra from his room. Let me go get him; I'll come directly to the table."

I nodded, forcing a smile even as disappointment welled up inside me. I wasn't ready for our moment to end. Veer kissed my temple, his lips lingering for a heartbeat before he left.

As I watched him go, a mix of emotions swirled within me - love, gratitude, but also a lingering anxiety I couldn't quite shake. I took a deep breath, smoothing my saree and composing myself. The fabric felt cool against my skin, grounding me in the present.

With one last glance at the empty doorway, I turned and made my way to the dining hall. My bare feet padded softly on the cool floor, each step carrying me forward. I tried to focus on the promise of breakfast and Veer's surprise.

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