The Malhotra family's dining hall exuded an air of timeless elegance and old-world charm. Rich, dark wood paneling enveloped the room, its polished surface gleaming softly in the warm glow of a magnificent brass chandelier. The ornate light fixture hung from the ceiling like a cascading bouquet of golden flames, its candles casting a gentle, flickering light across the opulent space.

Tall, arched windows with delicate muntins framed views of the lush estate grounds, allowing slivers of daylight to mingle with the room's intimate illumination. Ornate sconces adorned the walls, their soft light accentuating the room's warm ambiance and highlighting carefully chosen artwork.

At the heart of this grand chamber stood a long, oval dining table of deep mahogany, its surface reflecting the chandelier's glow like a mirror. Elegant place settings awaited the family's gathering, fine china and sparkling crystal arranged with meticulous care. High-backed chairs upholstered in muted fabric surrounded the table, each one a silent invitation to an evening of refined dining and familial conversation.

A plush carpet in rich hues of burgundy and gold sprawled beneath the table, its intricate patterns telling tales of distant lands and bygone eras. The room's corners held hints of the Malhotras' legacy - a gleaming silver service cart, an antique sideboard, and the subtle scent of polished wood and beeswax that spoke of generations of rituals and traditions.

The grand Malhotra dining hall buzzed with quiet conversation and the gentle clink of silverware. The entire clan had gathered, save for one notable absence: Abhimaan Malhotra. His wife, Shraddha, stood nervously by the chairs, her fingers unconsciously fidgeting with the delicate silk of her saree pallu. Behind her, Drishti and Kiara moved with quiet efficiency, serving the elders their morning meal.

At the center of the long table sat Rajveer Malhotra, the family patriarch, his presence commanding even in the informal setting. Beside him, Meera Rajveer Malhotra cradled young Rudra on her lap, patiently coaxing spoonfuls of cereal into the child's mouth. The empty chair next to her seemed to grow more conspicuous with each passing moment, a silent testament to Abhimaan's absence. Flanking the vacant seat were Abhimanyu and Abhiveer, their eyes occasionally darting to the door with worried expression for their Brother.

Kalyani Malhotra, the formidable grandmother, had decreed that the daughters-in-law were not to dine with their husbands or the elders. Meera had briefly considered challenging this outdated custom but thought better of it, knowing that any protest would only lead to chaos and suffering for her beloved daughters-in-law. So Shraddha, Drishti, and Kiara stood dutifully by, having finished serving the family, their own hunger ignored for the sake of tradition.

The air in the room suddenly grew thick with tension as Abhimaan Malhotra burst through the doors, his face a storm of barely contained fury. With a harsh scrape of wood on marble, he yanked out his chair and threw himself into it. Shraddha's worried gaze followed her husband, acutely aware of the volatile temper that simmered beneath his surface. In moments like these, Abhimaan became a force of nature, a walking flame that threatened to consume everything-and everyone-in its path, heedless of familial bonds or consequences.

With leaden steps, Shraddha approached the table, her hands trembling as she prepared to serve Abhimaan. He sat motionless, his head bowed and fists clenched tight enough to whiten his knuckles. The tension in the room was palpable, a thick, oppressive force that seemed to steal the very air from their lungs.

Kiara's eyes darted nervously around the table, finally locking with her husband's steady gaze. Abhiveer's silent reassurance washed over her like a soothing balm, his eyes conveying what his lips dared not speak: "There's nothing to fear." Though he abhorred violence, Kiara knew her in-laws' house was a powder keg of emotions, always teetering on the edge of explosion. Since their marriage, she had witnessed scenes she never imagined possible, each one etching itself indelibly into her memory.

Drishti stood like a statue, her face an impassive mask. Having been raised in a politically powerful family, such dramatic outbursts were commonplace to her, mere ripples in the tumultuous sea of her upbringing. Abhiveer and Abhimanyu maintained their silence, acutely aware that their brother's anger was never without cause, no matter how seemingly trivial.

Meera's eyes never left her son, worry etched deep into the lines of her face. For over two decades, she had watched helplessly as Abhimaan's temper flared, beginning when he was just a toddler of three. A flicker of hope had ignited within her when Shraddha entered his life; though his anger still burned hot, it was no longer the all-consuming inferno it once was. Slowly, imperceptibly, he was learning to temper the flames of his fury.

At the head of the table, Rajveer Malhotra and Rudra continued their meal with studied indifference, pointedly avoiding Abhimaan's smoldering presence.

Shraddha's hands trembled as she began serving Abhimaan, her eyes inadvertently meeting his. The sight of his bloodshot gaze sent a chill down her spine, confirming her worst fears: nothing was alright. He was far from okay.

After completing her task, she retreated to her place, her heart pounding an erratic rhythm against her ribcage. The air in the room felt thick with unspoken tension, making it difficult to breathe.

Abhimaan, his food untouched, broke the suffocating silence with a grave announcement. "I've increased the security of the haveli. I don't want anyone to leave the house without informing others of their destination." His piercing gaze swept across the table, lingering on Abhimanyu and Abhiveer. "This applies to both of you as well."

The brothers nodded,while Whispering "Ji bhai" as  confusion etched on their faces, but they acquiesced without protest. They knew their sibling well enough to understand that such a serious decree must have a valid reason behind it.

Turning to Meera, Abhimaan's voice softened slightly. "Maa, I request you not to leave the house please."

Meera's brow furrowed with concern as she asked, "Hua kya hai beta?" ("What has happened, son?")

The room seemed to hold its breath as Abhimaan delivered the shocking news. "Yesterday, Ekansh killed Samar Rajput."

A deafening silence descended upon the hall, broken only by the sharp intake of breath from  family members. Rajveer Malhotra, who had been stoically focused on his meal, slowly raised his eyes to meet Abhimaan's.

With a voice dripping with sarcasm and disdain, Rajveer sneered, "Chalo koi toh layak hai, Aap teeno se toh koi umeed hi nahi hai hume" ("Well, at least someone is capable,I have no hope from you three." .")

The taunt hung in the air like a poisoned dart. Abhimaan's fists clenched involuntarily, his knuckles turning white with the effort of restraining his rage. He squeezed his eyes shut, battling the tempest of emotions threatening to explode from within. The last thing he wanted was to cause a scene, especially in front of Rudra and Kiara, who were still adjusting to the complexities of their new family dynamics.

"Dad, please," Abhiveer interjected, his face contorted with annoyance. "Last time you stopped me, otherwise aaj uski teerahvi hoti." ("Otherwise, we'd be observing his thirteenth-day death ritual today.")

Rajveer's eyes flashed with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. "Ha Mand buddhi toh hai hi aap Veer, Charo taraf se uske logo ke beech mai aap uske gale per talvar dikha rahe the." ("Yes, you are indeed dim-witted, Veer. You were brandishing a sword at his throat in the midst of his people from all sides.")

Veer's face morphed into an expressionless mask, his pride visibly wounded.

"We have no hope from you three." he protested weakly, his voice trailing off. ("But there was no one there.")

Rajveer's reply cut through the air like a whip. "Yahi per toh aap mandbuddhi hue. Kabhi socha hai vo aap se milne akele kyu ayega jab usko acche se pata hai ki aap under world per hukumat karte hai?" ("This is precisely why you're dim-witted. Have you ever considered why he would meet you alone when he knows full well that you rule the underworld?")

Abhiveer's eyes widened, a dawning realization spreading across his features. It was clear he had never considered this perspective before, and the weight of his oversight settled heavily on his shoulders.

The atmosphere in the room shifted as Rajveer's steely gaze turned towards Abhimaan. His voice, low and measured, carried an undercurrent of danger. "Ekansh Abhi kaha hai?" ("Where is Ekansh now?")

Abhimaan's jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening visibly as he ground out his response through gritted teeth. "Apne Apartment per." ("At his apartment.")

The words hung in the air like a death sentence. Shraddha felt a wave of icy dread wash over her, her heart constricting with worry for her brother. The thought of Ekansh alone in his apartment, vulnerable to retribution, made her blood run cold. Her eyes darted to her husband, a mixture of disbelief and silent reproach in her gaze. How could he leave Ekansh so exposed? The haveli, with its fortress-like security, would have been a sanctuary.

"Ask the guards to escort him to the Haveli with full security," Rajveer Malhotra announced, his authoritative tone brooking no argument. Abhiveer nodded sharply, while a visible wave of relief washed over Shraddha's face. To her, Ekansh was more than family; he was her rock, her constant support through every trial and tribulation. Even now, in a world where trust seemed a rare commodity, she knew without a shred of doubt that Ekansh would believe her unconditionally.

Rajveer's gaze softened as it swept over his daughters-in-law. "Beta aap teeno bhi nasta kariye, chaliye ab." ("My dears, you three should eat breakfast too, come on now.") The women looked at him with wide, startled eyes. It was a rare occurrence for Rajveer to speak against Kalyani Shakti Malhotra, his mother, except when her words threatened Meera - a line he refused to let anyone cross. His patience with his mother's outdated ideologies had worn thin, and he was determined to shield his family from their toxic influence.

"Per papa-" ("But father-") Shraddha began to interject, her voice tinged with uncertainty. Beside her, Drishti's eyes widened in shock. This facet of Rajveer was entirely new to her; she had only known him as the man who taunted her husband with twisted words and flirted shamelessly with his wife - behavior she secretly adored.

Kiara, however, remained impassive. Her life had always been a cruel joke - preparing lavish meals but never tasting a single morsel. In her world, a single bite was a rare blessing. Memories of hiding coins to buy meager snacks during college days flashed through her mind. The word 'college' echoed in her thoughts, a bittersweet reminder of a life now shattered beyond repair. The will to piece it back together had long since abandoned her.

Rajveer's voice, gentle yet firm, cut through the tension. "Baithiye beta, aaj hamari maa aap teeno ko tang nahi karengi." ("Sit down, my dears. Today, my mother won't bother you three.") A small, tentative smile crept onto everyone's lips at his words - everyone except Abhimaan, who remained lost in the vast, tumultuous universe of his own thoughts.

The women's eyes instinctively sought out Meera, who offered a reassuring nod, her gentle smile a balm to their uncertainties.

Rajveer, sensing their hesitation, coaxed gently, "Dekhiye ab toh aap ki sasu ma bhi keh rahi hai, bethiye aur nasta kariye." ("Look, now even your mother-in-law is saying it, please sit and have breakfast.") With that, he picked up his fork and resumed eating, as if to lead by example.

Abhiveer, unable to contain himself, interjected with a mischievous glint in his eye, "Waise Papa aap ki mata shri se yaad aya, vo bol ke gayi hai ki apni behen ke yaha sukoon dhoondhne ja rahi hai, kab aayegi pata nahi." ("By the way, Papa, speaking of your esteemed mother, she left saying she's going to find peace at her sister's place. Who knows when she'll return?") His words dissolved into laughter, earning him a sharp punch on the shoulder from Abhimanyu, who mouthed a stern "Shut up."

Shraddha, Drishti, and Kiara gingerly took their seats beside their husbands, the air thick with awkwardness as they began serving themselves. Their movements were stilted, a forced normalcy that fooled no one.

Rajveer, his eyes twinkling with mirth, quipped, "Ab is umar aur sanki dimag ke saath jaha sukoon mile wahi rahe toh behtar hai." ("At this age and with that eccentric mind, it's better if she stays wherever she finds peace.") His words sent Veer into peals of laughter, while his brothers shot him withering glares.

Rudra, caught up in the infectious laughter, giggled alongside Veer. Meera, however, was not amused. She fixed her husband with a stern look, silently commanding him to stop. Rajveer's response was unexpected - a childish pout directed at his wife.

The sight of the family patriarch pouting like a scolded child sent shockwaves through the room. Kiara and Drishti exchanged looks of disbelief, their eyes wide with astonishment. Shraddha, more accustomed to these familial quirks, could only mentally facepalm at the scene unfolding before her.

Meera's voice cut through the laughter, sharp and admonishing. "Dono baap bete ka muh chup nahi reh sakta, kuch bhi bolte hai. Badi hai vo ghar mai sabse." ("Neither father nor son can keep their mouths shut, they say anything. She's the eldest in the house.") Her words were aimed at Rajveer and Abhiveer, who immediately sobered, though Abhiveer struggled to suppress his lingering amusement. Kiara shot him a warning glance, silently pleading with him to compose himself, but mirth continued to dance in his eyes.

Abhimaan's voice, laced with barely contained fury, added fuel to the simmering tension. "Vo badi hai iska ehsaas unhe khud hai?" ("Do she herself realize that she's the eldest?") His anger was palpable, a living force that threatened to explode. Beneath the table, Shraddha's hand found his, her fingers intertwining with his in a silent plea for calm, preventing him from slamming his fist onto the polished wood.

Meera, ever the peacemaker, tried to diffuse the situation. Her voice, though attempting sternness, carried an undercurrent of weariness. "Kuch bhi ho beta, per vo badi hai hum sabse aur bhooliye mat dadi hai aap sab ki vo." ("Whatever it may be, son, she's older than all of us, and don't forget, she's your grandmother.")

Abhimaan's response was a curt shake of his head, his jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth.

Sensing the escalating tension, Abhiveer attempted to lighten the mood, though his words had the opposite effect. "Ho gaya itni subah mood kyu kharab karna. Aaj hum sab ek saath nasta kar rahe hai, come on, smile." ("Enough, why ruin the mood so early? We're all having breakfast together today, come on, smile.") His forced cheerfulness only served to highlight the underlying strain.

Kiara's gaze lingered on Abhiveer, her mind a whirlpool of conflicting emotions. This jovial, peace-making persona seemed a world away from the man who had made her witness a killing, who had reduced her to tears, who had instilled a deep-seated fear in her heart. The dichotomy was jarring, leaving her feeling unbalanced and unsure.

Abhimanyu seemed lost in a world of his own, his eyes fixed on his wife with a worry that etched deep lines on his forehead. Drishti, aware of his concerned gaze, idly toyed with a paratha on her plate, occasionally sipping juice as if it were a lifeline to reality. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment before she quickly averted her gaze, finding solace in the familiar patterns of her plate.

Memories washed over Drishti like a bittersweet tide. She recalled the days when meals were solitary affairs, locked away in her room while her father and brother dined. The isolation had been a cruel companion, her tears the only witness to her loneliness. A faceless maid, her sole connection to the outside world, would silently deliver her meals and disappear like a ghost.

But life had changed, evolving like a delicate flower pushing through concrete. After her marriage, meals transformed into moments of joy shared with her mother-in-law and Shraddha. Laughter replaced silence, and companionship filled the void left by years of solitude. Then came Kiara, a ray of sunshine in human form, brightening their lives with her presence.

And her husband... Drishti's heart swelled with a cocktail of love and anguish. He was everything she had never dared to dream of - kind, loving, and supportive. A man who saw her, truly saw her, beyond the scars of her past. Yet, this very perfection was what threatened to tear them apart. The tendrils of her brother's jealousy and malice loomed like storm clouds on the horizon, threatening to destroy not just her happiness, but the reputation and life of the man she loved more than life itself.

In that moment, as the family sat around the table feigning normalcy, Drishti made a silent vow. If protecting Abhimanyu meant walking away from the only true happiness she had ever known, she would do it without hesitation. Her love for him was a force greater than her own desires, a selfless flame that would burn even as it consumed her heart.

Suddenly, Rajveer Malhotra cleared his throat, a sound that seemed to echo in the now-quiet room. All eyes turned to him, but his gaze was fixed on Kiara, his new daughter-in-law.

"Kiara, I heard you were doing law," Rajveer said, his voice a mix of curiosity and authority. (Kiara, I heard you were studying Law.)

At her father-in-law's words, Kiara's head snapped up, her eyes wide with shock. The fork she had been holding clattered against her plate, the sound sharp in the sudden silence. Beside her, Abhiveer's lips curved into an amused smile, his eyes dancing with newfound interest. He realized, with a pang of guilt, that he had never asked about her studies or her past. It was then that he truly saw the enigma sitting beside him - a woman with depths he had yet to explore, secrets hidden behind her gentle smile and quiet demeanor.

Kiara's mind raced, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and surprise. How did they know? She had kept her past so carefully guarded, like a fragile bird cupped in her hands. Her silence spoke volumes, filling the room with an almost tangible tension.

Rajveer's hearty laugh broke through the silence, his amusement at Kiara's innocence evident. "Hamne aap ka background check karwaya hai," he explained, his tone softening. "Ham chupa nahi rahe, hum bas yeh dekhna chahte the ki hamara mand buddhi beta raato raat kise shaadi karke laya hai." ( I had your background checked. I'm not hiding it; I just wanted to see whom our foolish son married so hastily.)

Abhiveer's face scrunched up in mock offense, his bottom lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout. "Hum underworld per rule karte hai, Papa. Aap har baat per hamari insult nahi kar sakte," he protested in a childish voice, his eyes twinkling with mischief. (I rule the underworld, Father. You can't insult me at every turn.)

Rajveer rolled his eyes, a fond smile playing on his lips. He turned to Rudra, and said, "Chup kar. Dekhiye Rudra, aap ke chote chachu aap se bhi zyada bacche hai." (Be quiet. Look, Rudra, your young uncle is even more childish than you.)

The room erupted in silent smile , the tension from moments before melting away like snow in sunshine. Yet, amidst the mirth, Kiara remained silent, her mind a tumultuous sea of emotions. The secrets she had so carefully guarded were now laid bare, and she felt exposed, vulnerable. But as she looked around at the smiling faces of her new family, a small spark of hope ignited in her heart. Perhaps, just perhaps, this was a place where she could finally let her guard down and allow her true self to shine.

The air in the room seemed to thicken as Rajveer turned his penetrating gaze back to Kiara. "Kiara beta, aap ne jawab nahi diya," he said, his voice gentle yet probing. (Kiara, dear, you haven't answered.)

"Ji vo..." Kiara began, but the words caught in her throat like butterflies in a net. Her eyes, wide and uncertain, darted around the room as if seeking an escape.

"Papa," Rajveer said softly, and the simple word sent a shockwave through Kiara. She stared at him, her heart pounding a staccato rhythm against her ribs. "Aap hame papa bula sakti hai bakiyo ki tarah. Aap bhi hamari beti hai Shraddha aur Drishti ki tarah." (You can call me Papa like the others. You're our daughter too, just like Shraddha and Drishti.)

Kiara's eyes welled up with tears, a smile trembling on her lips like a newborn star. The word 'Papa' echoed in her mind, a balm to wounds she had deep inside her soul. "Papa," she whispered, tasting the word, "Hamne abhi nahi socha hai." (I haven't thought about it yet.) Rajveer nodded, understanding in his eyes.

Then, like a storm changing direction, Rajveer's attention swiveled. "Aur aap, Mukhya Mantri Saheb," he said, his voice taking on a sharper edge. (And you, Chief Minister.)

The room crackled with sudden tension. Meera, sensing the brewing storm, grasped Rajveer's shoulder, a silent plea to stop. She knew her second son, Abhimanyu, wouldn't weather his father's taunts as easily as Veer had. But Rajveer, with a reassuring glance at his wife, forged ahead, leaving Meera to sigh in resignation.

"Toh Mukhya Mantri saheb, pata chala kisne goli chalai thi rally mai, ki bas agli baar ka intezar kar rahe hai?" Rajveer's words were sharp, each one a carefully aimed dart. (So, Chief Minister, have you found out who fired the shot at the rally, or are you just waiting for the next time?)

Abhimanyu's jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with barely contained anger. "Hame pata hai kisne goli chalai, kyu chalai, kya chahta hai vo insaan. Hum khud sambhaal lenge use," he replied, his voice a low, controlled rumble. (I know who fired the shot, why they did it, and what they want. I'll handle it Myself .)

As he spoke, Abhimanyu's eyes instinctively sought out Drishti. Her face was a blank canvas, devoid of any emotion, and it sent a chill through him. He offered her a smile, warm and reassuring, but received no response.

In that moment, the world around Abhimanyu seemed to fade. He knew Drishti well enough to read the worry hidden behind her impassive facade. Despite her denials, despite her claims that their relationship meant nothing, he knew the truth that lay in her heart. He had seen her tears when he ignored her, noticed the cloud of gloom that followed her on days when they didn't speak.

It affected her, yes, but it affected him even more. Each of her silent tears was like a dagger to his soul, each day without her voice a hellish eternity. As he looked at her now, outwardly calm but inwardly turbulent, Abhimanyu felt the familiar pull - the inexorable tug of a love that refused to be denied, no matter how hard they both tried to ignore it.

Rajveer's keen eyes swept across the table, lingering on his son's face. The unspoken tension in Abhimanyu's furrowed brow spoke volumes. With a slight nod, Rajveer acknowledged the weight of unspoken burdens.

"Bas yeh badle ki aag aap tak rahe toh behtar hoga. Parivaar mai uski chingari nahi ani chahiye," Rajveer said, his voice low but firm.

[ "It would be better if this fire of revenge stays with you alone. Its spark shouldn't reach the family."]

Abhimanyu's shoulders relaxed slightly as he nodded in agreement. The last thing he wanted was for his political machinations to cast a shadow over the warmth of their family bonds.

Rajveer's gaze swept across his three sons, each lost in their own thoughts. "Aap teeno humse study mai miliye. Hume baat karni hai aap se," he announced, his tone brooking no argument.

["You three, meet me in the study. I need to talk."]

Veer, caught mid-bite, hastily swallowed his morsel and nodded, a flicker of apprehension crossing his face. Abhimanyu's nod was more measured, his mind already racing with possibilities. Abhimaan, however, seemed lost in a world of his own, his eyes unfocused as he absently pushed food around his plate.

Rajveer's voice cut through Abhimaan's reverie like a knife. "Mr. Abhimaan Rajveer Malhotra," he said, emphasizing each syllable, "I want you in my study . Did you get that?"

Abhimaan's head snapped up, suddenly alert. He met his father's stern gaze and nodded, a mixture of curiosity and trepidation evident in his eyes.

The tension at the table was momentarily broken by young Rudra's antics. The little boy's face scrunched up in displeasure as he pushed away his bowl of cereal, shaking his head vehemently at his grandmother's gentle coaxing.

A twinkle appeared in Rajveer's eye as he leaned towards his grandson. "What if," he said conspiratorially, "you finish your breakfast like a good boy, and then you get to ride in Bade Chachu's jeep?"

Rudra's eyes widened with excitement, all thoughts of rebellion forgotten.He clapped his hands giggling.

___________________________

The rain's gentle cadence orchestrated a symphony of tranquility across the sprawling Malhotra Haveli. As the clock quietly ticked towards four in the afternoon, the grand estate stood wrapped in a hushed reverence, its usual bustling energy subdued by the whims of nature.

The veranda, typically a hub of activity, now exuded an otherworldly calm. Each raindrop's descent created ripples in the air, their collective melody a soothing balm to the senses. The sky, heavily laden with dense clouds, cast a preternatural twilight over the landscape, blurring the lines between day and night.

In this ethereal setting, three figures graced the veranda, their presence a stark contrast to the solitude that enveloped the rest of the haveli. The daughters-in-law of the Malhotra clan had found refuge in this peaceful corner, each lost in her own reverie as the world outside washed anew.

Shraddha sat on the cool floor, her legs folded gracefully beneath her. In her lap lay young Rudra, his cherubic face peaceful in slumber. The soothing pitter-patter of rain had lulled the usually energetic child into a deep sleep. Shraddha's fingers absently stroked his hair, her eyes distant as she contemplated the rhythm of the falling rain.

Beside her, Drishti reclined on a woven mat, her gaze fixed on the brooding sky above. A small, enigmatic smile would occasionally grace her lips, as if she were privy to some secret whispered by the clouds themselves. Her hand lazily traced patterns on the mat, mimicking the dance of raindrops on the garden beyond.

Kiara stood apart, a solitary figure by the stairs leading to the open area. Her eyes roamed over the small garden below, a labor of love cultivated by their mother-in-law. The rain had intensified the vibrant hues of the flowers and vegetables, creating a living canvas of nature's artistry. Kiara's posture spoke of a quiet contemplation, her thoughts perhaps as deep and complex as the storm clouds overhead.

The absence of the household staff, sent to their quarters due to the inclement weather, only amplified the sense of intimacy among the three women. Their husbands had departed after breakfast, venturing into the tempestuous world beyond without a word of explanation. Yet here in this moment, surrounded by the gentle fury of nature, such worldly concerns seemed distant and insignificant.

The rain continued its gentle descent, creating a misty veil around the Malhotra Haveli. Kiara stood at the edge of the veranda, her hands outstretched to catch the cool droplets, her face alight with childlike wonder. The water sparkled on her skin, a testament to her carefree spirit.

Shraddha's concerned voice cut through the patter of rain. "Kiara, idhar aa jaiye. Tabiyat kharab ho jayegi aap ki."

["Kiara, come here. You'll fall ill."]

Kiara turned, her lips forming a playful pout. Her eyes danced with mischief as she replied, "Par bhabhi, dekhiye na kitna accha mausam hai. Ek kaam karte hai, bheeg jate hai. Kisi ko pata bhi nahi chalega."

["But sister-in-law, look how beautiful the weather is. Let's do one thing, let's get drenched. No one will even know."]

Shraddha shook her head, a fond smile playing on her lips as her hand continued its gentle caress of Rudra's head. "Phir hamare devar sa jo sabko pareshaan karenge, uska kya?"

["Then what about my brother-in-law who will trouble everyone?"]

A blush bloomed on Kiara's cheeks as she retreated from the rain, settling beside Shraddha. Her earlier exuberance faded, replaced by a wistful sadness. "Hum kuch kar kyu nahi sakte bhabhi? Veer ke dar se hame sab koi kaam nahi karne deta."

["Why can't I do anything, sister-in-law? Out of fear of Veer, no one lets me do anything."]

Guilt flickered across Shraddha's face. She knew all too well the constraints placed upon Kiara, a young woman in her prime, trapped within the gilded cage. "Unhe aap ki fikar hai, baccha," she offered gently.

[ "he worry about you, child."]

Kiara's gaze drifted skyward, her voice tinged with resignation. "Itni bhi kya fikar jo aap ko ek pinjre mein qaid kar de?"

[ "What kind of worry is it that imprisons you in a cage?"]

She rested her head on Shraddha's shoulder, seeking comfort. Shraddha's hand moved to pat Kiara's head lightly, her voice soft with reassurance. "Sab theek ho jayega, bas kuch din aur."

["Everything will be alright, just a few more days."]

The moment of solace was shattered by Drishti's voice, sharp and bitter as she stared out into the rain. "Kuch theek nahi hoga, na hota hai."

[ "Nothing gets better, nor will it ever."]

"Aisa nahi hai. Jab samay beet jayega aur aap mud ke dekhengi, toh aap ko lagega ki jo ho raha tha vo sahi tha."

[ "It's not like that. When time passes and you look back, you'll feel that what was happening was right."]

Drishti's eyes met Shraddha's, a mixture of admiration and bewilderment swirling in their depths. A sad smile played on her lips as she asked, "Itni khush kaise reh leti hai aap, bhabhi? Hum toh baaton baaton mein toot jate hain, rone lagte hain, koste hain khud ko aur dusron ko bhi."

["How do you stay so happy, sister-in-law? I break down in conversations, start crying, curse myself and others too."]

Shraddha's smile deepened, a quiet wisdom radiating from her. Her gaze seemed to look beyond their present moment as she replied, "Jab aap ke paas kuch nahi hota aur achanak se bahut kuch bhagwaan aap ko de dete hain, khud aap ko ehsaas ho jata hai."

["When you have nothing and suddenly God gives you so much, you realize it yourself."]

Her words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken experiences. Drishti nodded, a newfound understanding dawning in her eyes.

However, Drishti's own perspective, tinged with a bittersweet reality, soon followed. "Kabhi kabhi aap ke paas sab ho kar bhi kuch nahi hota. Dusron ko lagta hai ki aap kitne khush hain, vo hamari life jaisi life expect karte hain jo door se acchi dikhai deti hai par paas se hai bas andhera."

[ "Sometimes you have everything yet nothing. Others think you're so happy, they expect a life like ours which looks good from afar but up close is just darkness."]

Kiara, who had been listening intently, added her own poignant observation. Her voice was soft, almost lost in the patter of rain. "Par kabhi aap ke ho kar bhi aap uske saath nahi ho sakte, chah kar bhi nahi mil sakte."

[ "But sometimes even when you belong to someone, you can't be with them, can't meet them even if you want to."]

Shraddha nodded, her eyes reflecting a deep understanding of the complex emotions swirling around them. The weight of unspoken dreams and silent longings seemed to settle over the trio like a delicate mist.

After a moment of contemplative silence, Shraddha's voice, filled with a quiet determination, broke through. "Hum samajhte hain, par aap dono hamari baat manengi?"

[ "I understand, but will you two listen to what I have to say?"]

Drishti and Kiara exchanged glances, confusion and curiosity mingling in their expressions as they nodded hesitantly.

"Abhimanyu aur Abhiveer ko samay dijiye. Hum jante hai hame isme nahi bolna chahiye par bas ek baar hamri baat maniye. Aap kabhi life mein is decision par regret nahi karenge, wada hai hamara."

["Give Abhimanyu and Abhiveer time. I know I shouldn't speak of this, but just once, listen to me . You will never regret this decision in life, that's my promise."]

Kiara nodded, hope flickering in her eyes like a newly kindled flame. Drishti, however, hesitated, her voice tinged with a mixture of longing and fear. "Hum try kar rahe hai par..." She trailed off, the unspoken threat to her husband's life hanging heavily in the air between them.

[ "i'm trying but..."]

Shraddha's reassuring voice cut through Drishti's doubts. " Bas try hi bahut hai. Hum Abhimanyu ko jante hai, vo aap ko kabhi dukh nahi denge."

[ " that's enough, just trying is plenty. I know Abhimanyu, he will never give you sorrow."]

A small smile bloomed on Drishti's face as she nodded, a glimmer of renewed faith in her eyes.

The moment was punctuated by Rudra stirring in his sleep, his small form nestled in Shraddha's lap. With a mother's intuition, Shraddha gently patted him, her touch soothing him back into peaceful slumber.

Kiara's eyes softened as she gazed at the sleeping child. "He is so cute," she murmured, her voice filled with affection.

Shraddha's smile widened, her eyes shining with love as she looked down at Rudra. "Jaan hai yeh hamari. Inke bina pata nahi hamara kya hota."

[ "He is my life. I don't know what would have happened to me, without him."]

Drishti's gaze, too, was drawn to the sleeping toddler. Her earlier melancholy seemed to lift as she watched Rudra's peaceful face. Kiara, overcome with tenderness, leaned in to place a soft kiss on Rudra's forehead.

"Bahut hi pyaare aur sab ki jaan hai hamare yuvraj," Drishti said, her voice warm with affection.

[ "Our little prince is very lovely and everyone's darling."]

Shraddha, caught in the wave of love, bent to kiss Rudra's chubby cheeks, her lips brushing against his soft skin.

___________________________

The study of Mr. Rajveer Malhotra stood as a fortress of tension, its atmosphere thick with unspoken concerns. The rhythmic assault of rain against the glass windows provided an ominous soundtrack to the gathering. Night had fallen, and with it, the weather had taken a turn for the worse. The occasional flash of lightning illuminated the room in harsh, fleeting bursts, followed by the low rumble of thunder that seemed to echo the gravity of the situation at hand.

Abhiveer was the last to enter, his footsteps hesitant as he took his seat. His eyes, filled with confusion, darted between his father and brothers before he finally broke the silence.

"Papa, you called us. What's the matter?"

Rajvansh's gaze swept over his sons, each a pillar of the Malhotra empire in their own right. His voice, when he spoke, was low and measured, cutting through the tension like a knife.

"Abhimaan, any movement from the Rajputs?"

Abhimaan's response was a simple shake of his head, but the implications of this stillness hung heavy in the air.

Rajvansh's brow furrowed, his mind clearly working through the implications.

"Strange. They're not the kind to sit quietly. This means they have a big plan."

He turned to Abhiveer, his tone brooking no argument.

"Abhiveer, increase the black guard around the house. Security and bodyguards must be vigilant to avoid any harm. Anyone could side with the Rajputs for money."

Abhiveer nodded, the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders like a heavy cloak.

Abhimanyu sat in uncharacteristic silence, his mind seemingly far away from the tension-filled room. In contrast, Abhimaan's posture spoke of barely contained energy. His head felt ready to burst, the culmination of a day spent strategizing with Ekansh, anticipating the Rajputs' every possible move. In his mind, the pieces were set, the plans laid. Any action now would ignite a war, and this time, there would be no going back.

"Abhimanyu," Rajveer's voice cut through the charged silence, drawing his son's distant gaze back to the present moment.

The study, already charged with tension, seemed to crackle with newfound intensity as Rajveer's words cut through the air like a well-honed blade.

"Your father-in-law, make him understand who the Malhotras are. Now his daughter is also a Malhotra, so make him shut his overflowing trap, otherwise my gun will talk to him."

Abhimanyu shook his head, exasperation etched across his features. His father-in-law's foolishness had pushed beyond the boundaries of patience, despite prior warnings. In a low, almost inaudible murmur, he breathed,

"It would be better to just shoot him."

A wicked smirk played across Rajveer's lips, a testament to the darkness that lurked beneath the family's polished exterior.

"Enough of outside matters, let's talk about home now."

Rajveer announced, his tone shifting from menacing to stern."You three married of your own will, one even married our enemy's daughter."His gaze bore into Abhimanyu.

" I consider all three daughters-in-law as my. daughters, and i won't tolerate tears in their eyes."

Abhiveer nodded in agreement, but Abhimanyu's face twisted with annoyance. "You have no right to interfere in our personal lives." he declared, his voice laced with defiance.

Rajveer's eyes flashed with anger at the challenge.

"You three can't handle anything, that's why i have to intervene."

Abhimanyu gritted his teeth, visibly struggling to contain the tempest of emotions threatening to burst forth. His breath came in heavy, measured exhales as he fought to maintain composure, aware of the regret that often followed his outbursts.

Rajveer's attention then swiveled to his youngest son. "And you, Mr. Abhimaan Rajveer Malhotra, i didn't expect this from you. I thought these two were slow-witted, but you're supposed to be the sensible one."

Abhimaan's face fell, the weight of his father's disappointment palpable. He knew exactly what his father was alluding to - his changed behavior towards Shraddha, a shift that hadn't gone unnoticed by the ever-watchful eyes of the family.

The tension in the study reached its breaking point as Abhimaan, his face a mask of barely contained emotion, abruptly stood. "I don't want to talk about anything." he declared, his voice tight with suppressed feelings.

With that, he strode out of the room, the door slamming behind him with a force that seemed to shake the very foundations of the Malhotra mansion. The sound reverberated through the study, a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil within.

Rajveer's eyes, hard as flint, swept over his remaining sons. His voice, when he spoke, carried the weight of generations of Malhotra power and expectation.

"Don't let the shadow of your profession fall on your family, your wife. Your family is your first priority, then this work, I know the consequences that's why I'm warning you"

With those parting words, Rajveer too exited the study, leaving behind a vacuum of authority and a whirlwind of unresolved emotions.

Abhimanyu remained seated, his eyes following his father's departure before settling on Abhiveer. The younger brother was already on his phone, his voice hard as steel as he issued commands.

"I want Black security around the house, guard the ladies discreetly without making them uncomfortable. And remember, a single scratch and I will wipe you all from this whole damn planet. Did you get it?" The threat in Abhiveer's voice was unmistakable, a reminder of the ruthless world they inhabited.

As Abhiveer ended the call, Abhimanyu's lips curled into a teasing smirk. "Mafia mode," he quipped, breaking the tension with brotherly banter.

Abhiveer's laugh, though brief, lightened the atmosphere. "Ha ha, karna padta hai," he replied, a hint of resignation in his voice.

[ "Ha ha, it has to be done."]

Abhimanyu joined in the laughter, the earlier heaviness dissipating like mist in the morning sun. As they left the study together, their conversation shifted to lighter topics, the query about dinner plans a stark contrast to the weighty discussions of moments ago.

"What's for dinner?" Abhimanyu asked, his tone deliberately casual.

"Let's go find out," Abhiveer replied, a hint of his earlier smile still lingering.

As they walked down the corridor, their bickering about potential menu items echoed off the walls, a semblance of normalcy in a world teetering on the edge of chaos. The storm outside continued its relentless assault, but within the Malhotra home, the bonds of brotherhood provided a shelter stronger than any walls.

___________________________