Shraddha

The soft morning light filtered through the gauzy curtains, painting the room in a warm, golden glow. I stirred from my slumber, consciousness slowly seeping in as the gentle sound of laughter tickled my ears. Blinking away the last vestiges of sleep, I propped myself up on my elbows, my vision gradually focusing on the heartwarming scene before me.

There, bathed in the gentle sunlight, sat my husband on the plush leather couch. In his strong arms, he cradled our Rudra, whose infectious giggles filled the air like music. At their feet, a playful puppy scampered about, his tiny paws pattering against the hardwood floor. Rudra's eyes sparkled with delight as he watched the furry bundle of energy, his chubby hands reaching out to touch him.

Abhimaan, ever the gentle giant, His large hand delicately stroked puppy's head, eliciting a happy tail wag that sent Rudra into another fit of giggles. The sight of my boys - both big and small - filled my heart with an indescribable warmth.

As if sensing my gaze, Maan's eyes met mine across the room. A slow, tender smile spread across his face, lighting up his ruggedly handsome features. He mouthed a silent "Good morning," his eyes conveying a depth of love that words could never fully capture. I returned his smile, feeling a flutter in my chest that, even after all this time, his presence still evoked.

Suddenly, Rudra's gaze shifted to me, his cherubic face lighting up with recognition. "Mumma!" he called out, his voice filled with pure joy and excitement. My smile widened, heart swelling with love for my precious little one.

With graceful movements, Maan rose from the couch, Rudra secure in his arms. He crossed the room in a few long strides, the puppy trailing behind . Gently, he placed Rudra on the bed beside me before taking a seat himself, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight.

Rudra, full of morning energy, crawled towards me with determination. His tiny hands gripped my shoulder for support as he pulled himself up, standing on wobbly legs. Without warning, he leaned in, peppering my cheeks with wet, enthusiastic kisses. I couldn't help but giggle at his adorable display of affection, the sound mingling with his own gleeful laughter.

"Good morning to you too, baccha," I cooed, my voice soft with motherly love. "Mumma loves you so much." I returned his kisses, my lips brushing against his soft, chubby cheeks. Rudra, in his excitement, began to playfully suck on my cheek, causing another wave of laughter to bubble up from within me.

Suddenly, I felt Maan's strong arms encircle us both. With playful possessiveness, he gently pulled Rudra away, setting him down on the bed a short distance away. In one fluid motion, he slid closer to me, his arm snaking around my waist and drawing me against his solid chest. I looked up at him, amused by the mock challenge in his eyes as he gazed at Rudra.

"Your kissing time is over for the day," Maan declared, his deep voice tinged with playful authority. "Now, I'll be the only one kissing my wife." To emphasize his point, he pressed a warm kiss to my cheek, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

"Maan," I protested weakly, though I couldn't help but smile at his antics. "He'll start crying." I glanced worriedly at Rudra, who was watching us with wide, curious eyes.

Maan leaned in close, his breath tickling my ear as he whispered, "Let him learn to fight for his women." His tone was light, but there was a hint of genuine sentiment beneath the teasing words.

I rolled my eyes, torn between exasperation and amusement. "Isn't it a bit early for him to learn that?" I questioned, even as I melted further into Maan's embrace, his arms tightening around me possessively.

I felt a blush creep up my cheeks as Maan's words echoed in my mind. His playful tone sent a shiver down my spine, rekindling memories of our passionate moments. "Don't roll your eyes, darling," he teased, his voice a rich baritone. "We both know how I make you roll your eyes. And no, it's perfect timing for him to learn."

Lost in the moment, we failed to notice my baby Rudra's stealthy approach. The toddler, with determination glinting in his eyes, crawled towards us with surprising speed. His tiny hand grasped my shoulder as he pulled himself up, balancing precariously on his chubby legs.

Surprise bloomed on my face as Rudra planted a wet, sloppy kiss on the very cheek Maan had just kissed. The little one's eyes, mirrors of his father's, darted between Maan and me before he threw his arms around me in a fierce hug. "Mumma!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with pure, unbridled love.

My heart swelled with emotion as I returned his embrace, holding him close. "Yes, mera baccha, Mumma's precious one. Mumma is yours, only yours," I cooed, my voice thick with emotion. Rudra's delighted giggle filled the air, a sound more beautiful than any symphony.

I caught Maan's gaze, finding his eyes alight with pride and love. He leaned in close, his breath tickling my ear as he whispered, "Only because he is our son." His words sent another wave of warmth through me, painting my cheeks a deeper shade of pink.

With fluid grace, Maan stood and reached for the puppy, gently lifting the tiny ball of fur onto the bed. The mattress dipped slightly under its minuscule weight as the puppy took its first tentative steps, its little legs trembling with the effort.

Rudra, still nestled against my chest, turned his head at the movement. His eyes widened with wonder as he watched the puppy's approach. "Du-du!" he called out, reaching one chubby hand towards the furry newcomer.

Laughter bubbled up from my chest as I scooped up the puppy with my free arm, pressing a soft kiss to its downy head. "How was your sleep, baby?" I asked the pup, who responded by snuggling deeper into my embrace. Rudra, not to be outdone, leaned forward and mimicked my action, placing a gentle kiss on the exact spot where I had kissed the puppy.

The change in Rudra was palpable. Since the puppy's arrival, he seemed more animated, more engaged with the world around him. It was a beautiful transformation to witness.

I looked up to find Maan watching us, his expression one of pure contentment. Our eyes met, and a spark of understanding passed between us. "I think we're officially Puppy Mumma and Puppy Papa now, too," he said, his voice warm with amusement. I nodded in agreement, knowing he had also noticed the positive changes in Rudra.

Maan's next words caught me completely off guard. "Get ready, both of you. I'm taking you out for breakfast today, and we'll pick up some dog food for our new family member." My eyes widened in surprise. This was unexpected - Maan taking us out. He hadn't done so in a long time, not since... well, not since he believed I had broken his trust.

"Come on, both of you get ready," he repeated, flashing us a rare, dazzling smile before disappearing into the walk-in closet.

I glanced down at Rudra, who was now fully engrossed in gentle play with the puppy. My heart felt full to bursting with love for my little family. "Come on, sweetheart," I said softly, "let's get ready for our special day out."

I dressed Rudra , he was a vision of adorable charm in his miniature jeans and t-shirt, while I had chosen a flowing green suit , The fabric swished softly against my skin as we made our way down the hallway, a gentle reminder of the special day ahead.

As we walked, I felt a soft nudge against my legs. Looking down, I saw our new furry family member - a chubby ball of fluff with eyes full of curiosity. I scooped him up, his warm weight a comfort in my arms. A fleeting thought crossed my mind - who could look after him while we were out? Then I remembered Kiara's eager request to spend time with our newest addition.

Just then, Maan appeared, cutting a striking figure in his casual t-shirt and jeans. I couldn't help but smile at the sight - father and son were unintentionally matching, creating a heartwarming picture of familial harmony. The resemblance between them, always strong, seemed even more pronounced in their coordinated outfits.

"Hold him for a moment," I said to Maan, gesturing towards Rudra. "I'm going to drop the puppy off with Kiara."

Maan nodded, his strong arms easily lifting Rudra. As I watched them together, my heart swelled with pride and love. My boys - both so handsome, so perfect in their own ways.

With the puppy cradled in my arms, I made my way to Kiara's room. The plush carpet muffled my footsteps as I approached her door and knocked gently. After a moment, the door opened, revealing Kiara's sleepy face.

"Good morning, Kiara," I greeted her warmly.

Her eyes lit up despite her apparent fatigue. "Good morning, bhabhi," she replied, then cooed at the puppy, "and good morning to you too, cutie."

Concern washed over me as I noticed her pallor. "Are you alright? You look a bit pale," I inquired, my voice laced with worry.

Kiara managed a weak smile. "I'm okay, bhabhi. It's just... you know, that I'm on periods."

Understanding dawned on me, and I nodded sympathetically. "I see. I came to leave the puppy with you since you wanted to play with him. We're going out, and this way Rudra won't fuss. But if you're not feeling well, you should rest," I suggested, not wanting to burden her.

"No, no, I'll take care of him," Kiara insisted, reaching for the puppy. Her eyes sparkled with affection as she cradled him close.

"You really don't have to. I could ask Drishti instead," I offered, but Kiara shook her head firmly.

"Absolutely not," she said, hugging the puppy protectively. I couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm.

"Alright then," I conceded. "Make sure he eats something, okay?"

Kiara nodded, and with a final goodbye, I headed towards the parking area, my heart light with the knowledge that our puppy was in good hands.

As I approached the cars, a heartwarming scene unfolded before me. Rudra was standing in one of the vehicles, Maan stood close by, one hand supportively on Rudra's back, ensuring our son's safety. Rudra was patting his legs against the car's metal frame, creating a rhythmic sound that echoed through the garage. His face was alight with joy, reveling in this new experience.

As our eyes met, a warm smile spread

across my face. Maan gently lifted Rudra, our precious boy, and handed him to me. I cradled him in my arms, feeling his tiny body wiggle with excitement as he giggled, his chubby legs kicking playfully.

"Easy now, little one," I cooed, "You might accidentally hurt Mumma." Rudra's bright eyes locked onto mine, his lower lip protruding in an adorable pout that melted my heart.

Maan guided us to the car, his strong hand supporting my back as I carefully maneuvered into the passenger seat with Rudra. The leather seat was cool against my skin as I settled in, adjusting Rudra on my lap. Maan slid into the driver's seat, his movements fluid and confident.

As the engine purred to life, curiosity got the better of me. "Where are we headed?" I asked, watching Maan's profile as he navigated the bustling city streets.

He turned to me, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Your favorite Chinese restaurant," he replied, his voice rich with anticipation. My heart fluttered at his thoughtfulness, a familiar warmth spreading through my chest.

Rudra bounced excitedly on my lap, captivated by the passing scenery. The city lights danced across his wide eyes as we drove, his tiny hands reaching out as if trying to catch the colors.

Upon arriving at the restaurant, Maan smoothly parked the car. He stepped out and came around to my side, opening the door with a flourish. Taking Rudra in one arm, he extended his other hand to me. I placed my hand in his, feeling the strength and tenderness in his grip as he helped me out of the car.

Hand in hand, we walked into the restaurant. The usual bustle was noticeably absent, with only a skeleton staff present. The quiet atmosphere was almost eerie, yet oddly intimate. Confusion must have shown on my face as Maan led us through the silent dining area, his expression unreadable.

We approached a beautifully decorated table in the center of the room, adorned with flickering candles and delicate flower arrangements. Maan pulled out a chair for me, and I sat down, still bewildered by the emptiness surrounding us.

"Why is it so quiet?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper in the stillness of the room.

Maan's eyes met mine, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Because I wanted no distractions during our family time," he explained, his words filled with warmth and sincerity.

A blush crept up my cheeks at his heartfelt comment. Before I could respond, a waiter appeared, bearing trays laden with steaming dishes. He arranged them on our table with practiced efficiency, then bowed slightly to Maan before retreating.

"Shall we?" Maan gestured to the feast before us, and we began to eat. The aromas of ginger, garlic, and exotic spices filled the air as we savored each dish. We took turns feeding Rudra, his gleeful giggles punctuating the meal as he tasted new flavors.

After our memorable dinner, we headed to the mall. As we browsed the pet food aisle, Rudra's excitement bubbled over at the sight of dog pictures on the packages. His tiny voice chirped "Duu-Duu" repeatedly, bringing smiles to our faces.

Suddenly, Maan's phone rang, interrupting our shopping. He excused himself, placing a tender kiss on my forehead before stepping away. In that moment, I felt a profound sense of gratitude wash over me. This normal, loving family outing was everything I had dreamed of for so long.

As I reached for a package of dog food, I accidentally bumped into a woman standing nearby. She was older, with kind eyes that seemed oddly familiar.

"I'm so sorry," I apologized quickly. "I didn't mean to bump into you."

The woman smiled warmly. "No worries, dear. Is this little angel yours?" she asked, gesturing to Rudra, who shyly buried his face in my shoulder.

"Yes, he is," I replied, my voice filled with pride.

"He's absolutely precious," she commented, her eyes twinkling. As she walked away, I couldn't shake the feeling that I knew her from somewhere.

Maan returned just then, his eyes following the retreating figure of the woman. "Who was that?" he inquired, a hint of concern in his voice.

"I'm not sure," I answered truthfully. "We just bumped into each other by accident."

His expression softened immediately. "Are you alright?" he asked, his hand gently touching my arm.

I nodded, reassuring him with a smile. He took Rudra from me, holding him close as we made our way to the checkout. As we left the mall and headed home, a sense of contentment washed over me. Today had been magical, a glimpse of the family life I had always longed for. Yet, a small part of me couldn't help but wonder if this blissful normalcy could last. For now, though, I chose to savor every precious moment.

__________________________

Abhimanyu

As the first rays of dawn crept through our bedroom curtains, I stirred from a restless sleep. My eyes remained closed, desperately clinging to the last vestiges of slumber, as I instinctively reached out for Drishti. My fingers, expecting the familiar warmth of her soft skin, met only the cool, crisp fabric of empty bedsheets.

A wave of unease washed over me as I forced my eyes open, squinting against the gentle morning light. Our bedroom, felt jarringly empty without her presence. The events of last night crashed over me like a tidal wave, and I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration.

God, I had fucked up. I had shouted at her, my Drishti, my everything, because some bastard had the audacity to want her. The mere thought of it made my blood boil all over again. But I shouldn't have taken it out on her. She had gone out without guards, and I... I lost it. I made her cry. The memory of her tear-filled eyes was like a dagger to my heart.

I called out softly, "Drishti?" My voice was rough with sleep and tinged with hope. The silence that answered me was deafening, amplifying the growing worry in my chest.

Rising from our bed, I padded across the cool marble floor, searching for any sign of her. The closet stood open, some of her clothes missing. My heart raced as I checked the balcony, usually her favorite spot for morning meditation, but it was empty. The bathroom, too, showed no trace of her presence.

"Drishti!" I called again, louder this time, my voice echoing through our spacious room. With each empty room, my anxiety mounted. Had she left me? The thought alone was enough to make me feel like I was losing my mind. I needed her like I needed air to breathe. She was my safe haven, my escape from the harsh realities of the world outside.

I approached our bedroom door, my heart pounding in my chest. As I opened it, time seemed to stand still.

There she stood, bathed in the soft morning light streaming through the hallway windows. My Jaana, my shade in the storm. She was a vision in a crimson saree that draped elegantly over her graceful form, accentuating every curve I knew by heart. The fabric shimmered with each small movement, like ripples on a tranquil lake.

Her delicate wrists were adorned with intricate red bangles that chimed softly as she shifted, creating a melody that seemed to harmonize with the rapid beating of my heart. The golden glow of her naptuan chain caught the light, drawing my gaze to the gentle curve of her neck that I longed to kiss. A vibrant streak of vermilion graced her hair parting, a poignant reminder of our sacred bond that made my chest swell with pride and love.

Drishti's eyes, those deep pools I could lose myself in forever, met mine for a fleeting moment before she bashfully averted her gaze. A hint of a blush colored her cheeks as she took in my shirtless form, her reaction stirring a mixture of affection and desire within me. Even after all this time, her shy glances still had the power to make my heart race.

The air between us was charged with unspoken words and lingering tensions from the night before. I longed to bridge the gap, to wrap her in my arms and never let go. Yet I restrained myself, allowing her the space to process her emotions, even though every fiber of my being screamed to hold her close.

I watched Drishti, my heart constricting at the sight of her rigid posture and averted gaze. The anger I had anticipated seeing in her eyes was conspicuously absent, replaced by something far more unsettling - a deep, impenetrable sadness that seemed to dim the very light that usually radiated from her being.

With graceful movements that belied the tension in the air, Drishti glided towards our shared closet. I found myself mesmerized by the soft swish of her saree against the plush carpet, a sound that normally brought me comfort but now seemed to emphasize the distance between us. She emerged moments later, my towel and clothes in hand - a daily ritual that, even in her apparent distress, she hadn't abandoned. The realization sent a pang of guilt through my chest, a sharp reminder of her unwavering devotion.

As she placed my things on the bed with careful precision, I noticed the slight trembling of her hands - a detail that would have escaped anyone else but was glaringly obvious to me. I want to kill myself for hurting her this bad.

Drishti then moved towards the bedside table, her movements measured and deliberate. She picked up her phone, the device suddenly seeming like a shield between us as she perched on the edge of the bed, her attention focused on the screen.

In that moment, as I watched her fingers move mechanically across the phone's surface, an idea struck me with the force of a lightning bolt. This distance between us, this silence - it was unbearable. I had to bridge the gap, to reconnect with the woman who held my heart in her hands.

"Drishti," I called out softly, her name a prayer on my lips. She looked up, her eyes meeting mine, and for a brief second, I saw a flicker of the warmth I so desperately missed.

"Hum aaj bahar nahi ja rahe," I declared, my voice carrying a hint of the authority I wielded outside these walls, but softened by the love I felt for her. I watched as she processed my words, a myriad of emotions flitting across her face too quickly for me to decipher. Then, to my surprise and growing frustration, she simply stood up and walked back to the closet.

I felt a spark of annoyance ignite within me. Why wouldn't she question me? Where was the fiery spirit of the woman who never hesitated to challenge my decisions, to push me to be better? As she returned with a set of casual clothes, replacing the formal wear she had initially selected, I felt my patience waver.

"Fuck this," I muttered under my breath, the words escaping before I could stop them. In one fluid motion, I reached out and grasped her arm, pulling her towards me with a gentleness that belied my frustration.

The moment she collided with my chest, I felt her body shiver, a tremor that ran through her and into me, connecting us in a way that transcended the physical. Yet she remained still, neither embracing me nor pulling away, her lack of response more painful than any rejection.

"Apne pati ko maaf nahi karengi aap?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, laden with a vulnerability I rarely allowed myself to show. I felt her gaze upon me, and when I looked down into her eyes, what I saw nearly broke me. Those beautiful orbs, usually brimming with life , now seemed devoid of emotion, as dark and impenetrable as the night sky without stars. But beneath that darkness, I sensed something deeper, a maelstrom of feelings she was desperately trying to conceal.

"Maaf kar de hume, biwi," I pleaded, my words a gentle caress meant only for her ears. I poured every ounce of my remorse, my love, and my need for her into those simple words, hoping they would reach the part of her that seemed locked away.

"I'm sorry" I whispered slowly.

When she finally spoke, her voice was soft and tinged with uncertainty. "Aapp... Aap humse naaraz nahi hai?" The innocence in her question made my heart soar. My angel, always thinking of others even when she was the one who deserved an apology.

I poured out my heart to her, explaining my fears and my love. "Hum aap ko kaid nahi karna chahte jaana, bas darte hai. Iska matlab yeh nahi ki aap kahi ja nahi sakti, bas itna chahte hai ki aap guards ke saath jaye, taaki aap surakshit rahe. Bas iske alawa hum aapko kisi cheez ke liye nahi rokenge. Hamari Amanat hai aap, Jaana hai, kabhi kuch ho gaya toh hum kya karenge , hum je-"

Before I could finish, she placed her delicate hand over my mouth, her touch sending shivers down my spine. "Aisa na bole aap," she said, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. I couldn't resist pressing a gentle kiss to her palm, reveling in the softness of her skin.

"Toh aap hume pareshan hi itna karti hai," I said defensively, unable to hide the hint of a smile. Her answering pout was adorable, making me want to kiss it away.

"Ha toh, humne jaan bujh kar nahi kiya tha," she replied, her quick defense melting away the last of my resolve. I pulled her closer, relishing the feeling of her head resting against my chest.

"Jante hai hum," I murmured into her hair. "Maaf nahi karengi hume?" I felt her shake her head against me, and I couldn't help but smile, hugging her tighter.

"Toh mehnat karwana chahti hai," I said, a playful challenge in my voice. "Theek hai, hum bhi Abhimanyu Rajveer Malhotra hai, aise haar nahi manenge."

I felt her melt against me, her body softening in my embrace. "Theek hai, toh dekhte hai," she whispered, accepting my challenge with a hint of mischief in her voice.

"Challenge accepted, biwi," I replied, my heart swelling as I watched a beautiful blush spread across her cheeks.

Drishti is more than just my wife; she was my home, my anchor in the chaos of life.

In this moment, with Drishti in my arms, I felt invincible. The world outside could wait. Here, in our little bubble , we had found our safe haven.

_________________________

Drishti

With a gentle reluctance, I disentangled myself from Abhimanyu's warm embrace. The lingering scent of his cologne, a heady mix of sandalwood and spice, enveloped me as I looked up into his eyes. Those deep, expressive orbs that never failed to make my heart skip a beat were now filled with a tender warmth that made me want to lose myself in his arms all over again.

Summoning my resolve, I said softly, "CM saheb, karyalaya bhi jana hai aapko. Taiyaar ho jayiye." My words hung in the air between us, a gentle reminder of the world that awaited beyond our private sanctuary.

Abhimanyu's response was not in words, but in actions. With a delicate touch that sent shivers down my spine, he brushed my hair from my shoulders. His lips found the sensitive spot on my neck, and I felt my body respond instinctively to his touch. A mixture of desire and playful exasperation bubbled up within me.

"Manyu," I breathed, my voice a blend of gentle admonishment and poorly concealed pleasure. I could feel his smile against my skin, and despite my best efforts, I found my own lips curving upwards in response. His joy was infectious, a balm to the worries that had plagued me.

"Hamne kaha na , hum kahi nahi ja rahe," he murmured, his voice taking on that stubborn tone I knew all too well. It was the voice of Abhimanyu the man, not Abhimanyu the Chief Minister - a distinction only I was privileged to witness.

Gathering my wits, I countered, "Accha, toh oath ceremony ki taiyaari yu hi ho rahi hai na?" I watched as a small frown creased his brow, a rare crack in his usually composed demeanor.

His response came with a seriousness that momentarily dispelled our playful mood. "Ceremony got delayed due to incident that took place with Ma and Papa, so we have time." Then, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that took my breath away. "Aur ha, yaad rakhiyega aap aa rahi hai hamare saath."

The weight of his words settled over me like a warm blanket. It wasn't just an invitation; it was a declaration of his desire to have me by his side, always. As he stepped back, breaking our embrace, I found myself missing his warmth immediately.

"Ji ha, bilkul," I agreed, my heart swelling with love and pride. "Pehle taiyaar ho jaye aap." With gentle insistence, I guided him towards the washroom, pressing his neatly folded clothes into his hands.

"Jayiye," I urged, fighting the urge to pull him back into my arms. Abhimanyu's response was a playful flying kiss, his eyes twinkling with mischief before he disappeared behind the bathroom door.

As the door closed, I found myself staring at it, lost in thought. The events of the past day came rushing back, threatening to overwhelm me. The mere thought of losing Abhimanyu, of him getting hurt, felt like a knife twisting in my heart. He is now my greatest vulnerability that I never thought I'll have.

My mind drifted to yesterday's clandestine meeting with Yumika, my dearest friend and now, through a twist of fate, my sister-in-law.

Flashback

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the bustling city streets as I pulled into the parking lot of our old college haunt - a quaint little restaurant tucked away on a quiet corner. My hands trembled slightly as I unwrapped the silk scarf from around my head, letting out a deep breath to steady my nerves. The familiar scent of brewing coffee and freshly baked pastries wafted through the air, stirring bittersweet memories of carefree days gone by.

As I stepped inside, my eyes immediately sought out our usual table - a cozy booth nestled in the back corner, partially hidden by a lush potted fern. There she was, my dearest friend Yumika, hunched over a half-empty glass of mango shake. Even from a distance, I could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers fidgeted restlessly with the paper napkin.

I approached quietly, gently placing my hand on her shoulder. She startled at the touch, but as our eyes met, recognition flooded her face. In an instant, she was on her feet, wrapping me in a fierce embrace that nearly knocked the breath from my lungs. I could feel her body shaking with silent sobs as I returned the hug, my own eyes stinging with unshed tears.

"Hey now," I murmured, trying to inject some lightness into my voice, "I know it's been a while, but there's no need to flood the place, okay?" My attempt at humor fell flat as Yumika continued to cling to me, her tears soaking into the fabric of my blouse.

Gently, I guided her back to her seat, fishing a clean handkerchief from my purse to dab at her tear-stained cheeks. "There, there," I soothed, fighting to keep my own composure. "Let's sit down and you can tell me what's troubling you."

Yumika took a shuddering breath, visibly trying to collect herself. "Drishti," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "I don't know how to go on like this. I feel like I'm drowning."

My heart clenched at the pain etched across her face. This vibrant, spirited woman who had always been my rock - now she looked so small, so fragile. I reached across the table to clasp her trembling hands in mine. "Whatever it is, we'll face it together. Just like we always have."

She nodded, drawing strength from our connection. Then, with shaking fingers, she reached for her purse and withdrew a folded slip of paper. As she handed it to me, I could see the fear in her eyes - a deep, primal terror that made my blood run cold.

With mounting dread, I unfolded the paper. The moment I comprehended its contents, it felt as though the ground had fallen away beneath me. My vision swam, and for a moment, I feared I might faint right there in the restaurant.

"Yumika," I breathed, struggling to form coherent thoughts. "How...when did this happen?"

Her face crumpled, a fresh wave of tears spilling down her cheeks. "That night," she choked out. "When he was drunk. He...he made me take pills after, but somehow..." She trailed off, unable to continue.

I closed my eyes, fighting back a surge of nausea. My brother - my own flesh and blood - how could he have become this monster? The sweet boy I'd grown up with seemed like a distant memory, replaced by a cruel, power-hungry stranger who saw Yumika as nothing more than a possession.

"Have you told him?" I asked gently, already dreading the answer.

Yumika shook her head vehemently. "I can't," she whispered. "Drishti, he'll kill me. He'll kill my baby. You know he will."

The truth of her words hit me like a physical blow. I knew all too well the depths of my brother's obsession, his ruthless pursuit of power. A child would be seen as nothing more than an obstacle to be eliminated.

I rose from my seat, moving around the table to envelope Yumika in another embrace. "I'm so sorry," I murmured into her hair. "This is all my fault. If I'd never introduced you..."

She pulled back, her tear-filled eyes blazing with sudden intensity. "No," she said firmly. "Don't you dare blame yourself. He's responsible for his own actions - for what he's done to both of us."

We clung to each other, our shared grief and fear creating a bubble around us that shut out the rest of the world. For a moment, it was just the two of us - best friends, sisters in all but blood - facing an uncertain future together.

The spell was broken by the arrival of a man in a crisp black suit, his presence radiating an aura of quiet menace. Yumika stiffened in my arms, a flicker of resignation crossing her face.

"Ma'am," the man intoned, his voice devoid of emotion. "The sir is inquiring about your whereabouts."

Yumika's spine straightened, a hint of her old fire returning as she glared at the newcomer. "Tell him I'm fine," she snapped. "And that I'm not with any 'fucking man.' And while you're at it, tell him to stop having me followed like some disobedient child!"

I squeezed her hand, silently urging caution. As much as I admired her spirit, I knew all too well the consequences of defying my brother's will.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," the man replied, unmoved by her outburst. "But I have strict orders to escort you home immediately."

Yumika's shoulders slumped in defeat. She looked to me, a silent plea in her eyes. With a heavy heart, I nodded. "It's okay," I whispered. "Go. We'll find another way to talk soon. Just... take care of yourself. And the little one."

She stood on shaky legs, embracing me one last time. "Thank you," she breathed. "For everything."

I watched as she walked away, flanked by my brother's henchman. The weight of all that remained unsaid hung heavily in the air between us. As the door swung shut behind them, I sank back into my seat, the magnitude of our situation crashing over me like a tidal wave.

Now what?

_________________________

Abhiveer

The crisp morning air nipped at my skin as I stood on the practice ground, surrounded by a sea of towering pines. Their evergreen scent mingled with the acrid smell of gunpowder, creating an oddly comforting aroma that reminded me of countless training sessions.

I raised the sleek, cold metal of my pistol, its weight familiar in my hand. My eyes narrowed, focusing on the target before me - a faceless mannequin with concentric circles painted on its head. Time seemed to slow as I exhaled, my finger caressing the trigger.

Bang!

The gunshot shattered the early morning stillness, echoing through the forest. A perfect hole appeared dead center in the mannequin's forehead, a testament to my unwavering aim.

"Wow, boss! Good job!" Abhishek's voice cut through the ringing in my ears. I turned to him, unable to suppress an eye roll at his exuberance.

"I'm born to do this," I muttered, more to myself than to him. "God knows I'm perfect at what I do."

The practice ground sprawled around us, a clearing carved out of the dense forest. Various targets and obstacles dotted the landscape, designed to challenge even the most skilled operatives. The rising sun cast long shadows across the dew-covered grass, giving everything an almost ethereal glow.

My mind wandered to the reason I was here at this ungodly hour. The memory of the threat to my family burned hot in my chest, fueling a rage that threatened to consume me. I knew it was the Rajputs, but the question that gnawed at me was why my brother - my bhaiya - wasn't taking action. I made a mental note to speak with him before making my next move.

Glancing at my watch, the glowing digits showed 6:00 AM. I couldn't help but think of the warm bed I'd left behind, and more importantly, the beautiful woman still sleeping there. My wife's face flashed in my mind, a moment of softness in the hard world I inhabited.

A commotion drew my attention. Abhishek, ever the showman, was flexing his abs for a group of female trainees. Their giggles carried across the field as I shook my head at his antics. Despite his childish behavior, I couldn't deny his skills. In our line of work, perfection and loyalty were paramount - and Abhishek had both in spades.

"Abhishek!" I called out, my voice carrying the unmistakable tone of authority. He snapped to attention, practically materializing before me, his face a mixture of respect and barely concealed fear. I had to fight back a smirk at his reaction.

"I'm leaving," I informed him, my voice low and serious. "Check the shipment coming from Russia when it reaches." I paused, fixing him with a stern look. "And yeah, don't talk to my wife on the phone if she picks up."

Abhishek's face fell slightly. "God, boss, how many times are you going to repeat that?" he grumbled, though there was no real defiance in his tone.

I dismissed him with a wave, turning towards the sleek black SUV parked at the edge of the clearing. As I walked, gravel crunched under my boots, the sound mingling with the awakening birdsong of the forest.

Sliding into the driver's seat, I felt the supple leather conform to my body. The engine roared to life with a turn of the key, its powerful rumble a stark contrast to the natural sounds of the forest.

After a forty-minute drive through the winding roads, the imposing silhouette of the haveli loomed before me. The grand ancestral home stood silently against the awakening sky, its intricate architecture a testament to generations of family history.

As I stepped inside, the familiar scent of home enveloped me - a mixture of sandalwood incense and the lingering aroma of yesterday's spices. An unusual glow caught my eye - the kitchen light was on, casting a warm halo in the otherwise dim house. It was peculiar; nobody stirred this early unless Dadi Sa was present. Her absence usually meant peaceful mornings for all.

Curiosity piqued, I made my way towards the kitchen. The sight that greeted me at the doorway sent a surge of anger through my veins. There she was - my petite wife, Kiara, busy at the stove. I had explicitly warned her about entering the kitchen, yet here she stood, defiant in her disobedience.

I approached silently, my gaze falling on the pot before her. Pasta. The rich aroma of herbs and tomatoes filled the air. As I drew closer, my chest brushed against her back. She startled, but I quickly placed my hand over hers, preventing her from jumping in fright. Leaning in, I rested my chin on her shoulder, my lips grazing her ear.

Kiara's unique scent washed over me - a heavenly blend of jasmine and something uniquely her. It was peace incarnate, the very fragrance I yearned for in my tumultuous life. I felt her shiver, then relax as she recognized my presence.

"You startled me," she whispered, her voice a melody in the quiet morning.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my tone measured despite the anger simmering beneath. She gestured towards the pasta, as if it explained everything.

"I'm making pasta. I was hungry," she replied simply. But that wasn't the answer I sought. I wanted to know why she was in the kitchen after I had expressly forbidden it.

"What are you doing in the kitchen, Kiara?" I repeated, my voice taking on an edge of anger. She stiffened in my embrace, sensing my displeasure.

"I asked you a question," I pressed, turning her to face me. I switched off the burner and placed my hands on the counter, effectively caging her. Our eyes met, and she spoke hesitantly.

"I... I couldn't sleep because of my period cramps," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "When I woke up, you weren't there, and I was hungry. So I decided to make some pasta."

My expression softened at her words. She was in pain, and I hadn't been there for her. I placed a gentle hand on her belly, earning a wide-eyed look from her.

"Is it hurting badly?" I asked, my anger dissipating.

She swallowed hard before answering, "It's... it's a bit better now."

A smile tugged at my lips. In one fluid motion, I scooped her up into my arms. She let out a surprised gasp, her hands instinctively grasping my shoulders.

"Veer, what are you doing?" she hissed as I set her down on the counter.

"Stay here," I instructed. "I'll finish making the pasta."

She looked at me with those innocent eyes that never failed to captivate me. "You know how to cook?" she asked, a hint of surprise in her voice.

"Yes, my dear wife," I replied, a hint of playfulness creeping into my tone. "Don't underestimate your husband."

A blush bloomed across her cheeks, painting them a delightful strawberry hue. I adored how easily she flushed at my words.

I turned my attention to the pasta, stirring the sauce and checking the noodles. Kiara sat silently on the counter, her eyes following my every move. The kitchen filled with the comforting sounds of cooking and the rich aroma of the sauce.

Once the pasta was ready, I plated it carefully. Taking a forkful, I blew on it gently to cool it down before offering it to Kiara. Her face flushed anew as she parted her lips, accepting the morsel. The soft moan of appreciation that escaped her as she savored the taste sent a jolt through me.

"Damn, woman," I muttered under my breath, caught between amusement and desire. The innocence in her eyes contrasted sharply with the effect she had on me, creating a delicious tension that hung in the air between us.

"It's so delicious," Kiara murmured, her eyes closing in bliss as she savored each bite. I continued to feed her, ensuring she finished the entire plate. The soft morning light filtering through the kitchen windows cast a golden glow on her face, accentuating her delicate features.

"I'm impressed," she said between bites, a hint of playfulness in her voice. "You're skilled with more than just guns."

I narrowed my eyes at her teasing remark, closing the distance between us until I could feel the warmth radiating from her body. The air around us seemed to crackle with unspoken tension.

"Well, my dear," I said, my voice low and husky, "I know many more things. Would you like me to demonstrate them for you?"

Her eyes widened, a mix of shock and something else - perhaps curiosity? - flashing across her face. Realizing I might have pushed too far, I quickly backtracked, not wanting to frighten her. I cherished these moments when she felt comfortable enough to speak freely with me.

"I'm sorry, my lady," I said softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Please, continue eating."

Her smile returned, warm and genuine, lighting up her entire face. I felt a surge of affection as I watched her finish the pasta, savoring each bite as if it were a gourmet meal.

"So, you really can cook?" she asked, her tone tinged with wonder.

"Do you doubt it?" I replied, raising an eyebrow.

Her smile widened, and I found myself captivated by the joy radiating from her.

"Can I ask you something?" she said suddenly, her voice hesitant.

I looked at her, confused. I was prepared to grant her any wish - save for her desire to see her mother. "Of course," I replied, curious about what she might request.

Kiara hopped down from the counter, standing before me with an almost childlike excitement. "Will you cook some chole for me?"

Her simple request caught me off guard. In that moment, she looked so innocent, so far removed from the dark world I inhabited. I couldn't help but lean in and place a gentle kiss on her nose.

"Anything for my baby," I whispered, my heart swelling with an unfamiliar warmth.

She beamed at me, then turned to leave the kitchen. In one swift motion, I scooped her up into my arms. She let out a surprised yelp, her small fists playfully hitting my chest.

"You scared me!" she exclaimed, a mix of exasperation and amusement in her voice. "I can walk, you know."

I gazed down at her, drinking in the sight of her nestled in my arms. "I know you can, sweetheart," I said softly. "But I can't bear the thought of those cramps hitting again, or you feeling dizzy."

She nodded, resting her head against my chest. I could feel her relaxing in my embrace, her trust in me evident in every line of her body.

"I'm used to the pain," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

I halted mid-step, my body tensing. Those words held a weight beyond mere physical discomfort - I knew she wasn't just referring to the cramps. A surge of protectiveness washed over me as I looked into her eyes, seeing the shadows of past hurts lingering there.

Leaning down, I placed a tender kiss on her forehead. She snuggled closer, as if trying to burrow into my very being.

"But I'm not," I said, my voice thick with emotion. "I can't bear to see you in pain. Not now, not ever."

We entered our bedroom, a sanctuary of soft colors and plush furnishings. I gently laid her on our bed, the silken sheets enveloping her small frame.

"I'm here," I reassured her. "Sleep now."

She nodded, her eyelids already growing heavy. I watched as she drifted off, her breathing becoming deep and even. The sight of her peaceful slumber filled me with a sense of calm I rarely experienced.

Once I was certain she was in deep sleep, I quietly made my way to my study. The room was a stark contrast to our bedroom - all dark wood and leather, reflecting the more somber aspects of my life.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Abhishek's number. He answered quickly, his breathing heavy and labored.

"What happened?" I demanded, my voice a sharp blade in the darkness.

The voice on the other end hesitated, then rushed out the words: "Boss, the Spanish tried to steal the shipment, but we were on time. I'm sorry for not informing you earlier, but everything is under control now."

As he spoke, I found myself at the window, staring out at the glittering city below. My fingers gripped the cold metal railing of the balcony, knuckles turning white with barely contained fury. The Spanish. Always the fucking Spanish, with their leader at the helm - a man I loathed with every fiber of my being.

He wasn't just my business rival; he was the motherfucker who had bought my wife from my gambling-addicted father-in-law. And now, here he was again, circling like a vulture, looking for any weakness to exploit. The thought of him made bile rise in my throat.

"Inform me the moment everything is unloaded," I ordered, my voice low and dangerous. I heard a hurried "Yes, boss" before I ended the call, the silence rushing back in to fill the void.

I stood there for a moment, letting the cool night air caress my face, trying to calm the storm raging within me. Then, like a moth drawn to a flame, I found myself moving back inside, drawn to the one source of peace in my turbulent world.

There she lay, my angel, my lifeline, sleeping peacefully in our bed. The moonlight spilled through the window, bathing her in an ethereal glow. My heart clenched at the sight of her - so innocent, so unaware of the darkness that threatened to engulf us both.

I approached silently, drinking in every detail of her face. The gentle curve of her cheek, the flutter of her eyelashes against her skin, the soft parting of her lips as she breathed. Lowering myself beside her, I pressed my lips to her forehead in a feather-light kiss.

Time seemed to stand still as I lingered there, breathing in her familiar scent, feeling the warmth of her skin against mine. In that moment, I made a vow, my words barely a whisper in the night:

"I'll protect you, even if it costs me my life."

It wasn't just a promise, an empty platitude to be forgotten in the light of day. No, this was a commitment etched into my very soul. Come hell or high water, I would keep her safe, shielding her from the brutal world that lay beyond these walls.

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