AUTHOR'S POV

"It was never a car crash. My mumma was gang raped in front of my eyes."

The words punch the air out of my lungs. For a second, I think I didn't hear her right.

She's shaking in my arms, clinging to me, I pull her into my lap, gently shifting her so her legs are curled over mine. She's still wearing that party dress, the same one from hours ago.

"After all of that... we came back to India," she says, "And I don't know why, but Dad left me. He abandoned me in New York. Took Vikram bhai with him, but left me there. Alone." She tightens her hold. "I found out that he has the same heart condition as me, a few months ago and yeah, I don't want him to die or anything, I'm not heartless. But I'll never forget that he looked at me, his own daughter, and chose to leave. I cried for him. I waited. And he never came back. And then when I finally came back to India, I thought... maybe he'd be happy to see me. Maybe they all would. But bhai, Chachaji... even Dad. They didn't pull me in. They pushed me away. They wanted me to go back, and the worst? They even took the FIR back. My mumma never got justice."

I cup her cheek gently. Her fingers clutch harder, her nails biting into my back. I lift her chin slowly, forcing her to look at me. Her eyes are red and swollen, her lashes wet and clumped together. Strands of hair stick to her skin, matted with tears. I brush her hair from her face with the back of my hand.

"It was Yashwant Bansal,"

Her whole body stiffens, she starts crying harder, her nails digging into my chest as she nods.

I close my eyes. My whole body feels like it's vibrating with rage, and it takes everything in me not to fucking explode. That sick bastard. That fucking disgusting, piece of shit monster. I knew it. I fucking knew it the moment he called her "little rabbit" at the party tonight. Because every night, while I sleep beside her, I hear her whisper that name in her sleep, begging-"I'm not a little rabbit." Over and over, begging someone not to call her that.

It was him. He's the reason she can't sleep. He's the reason she flinches in her own goddamn home. The reason she wakes up gasping and choking on her tears.

All I want is five fucking minutes alone with that bastard. Just five, no talking, no warnings. Just bare hands, locked doors, and the sound of his bones snapping one by one until he begs for a death I won't give him. That's too easy. He doesn't deserve easy.

But I can't move. Because she's here. She's in my arms, barely breathing through her sobs, and right now the only thing she needs is to know she's safe.

"Pearl," I say softly, pressing my hand to her arm. "I'm just getting you some water. I'll be right back, okay?"

I ease her down onto the couch and stand, pausing for a second to look at her before heading to the kitchen.

Her father's behavior makes no damn sense. One minute he acts like she's the reason he breathes, and the next he abandons her without explanation. What kind of man does that?

I shake my head, grab the water bottle from the fridge, and head back to her room. My brows drew together. I scanned the space, her cupboard was open, one drawer halfway out, clothes and paper scattered carelessly. Something felt wrong. My eyes darted to the bathroom door.

"Fuck," I rushed toward the door and pushed it open. The image froze me. She's standing at the sink with her trembling hands, downing a handful of pills. My chest tightens in instant panic.

"Pearl-no!" I rush in and snatch the bottle from her hand, shoving it on the counter. She turns to me, and that twists something deep inside me. I grab her jaw, trying to pry her mouth open.

"Open your mouth. Spit them out,"

"Rudra, don't-" she cries out, thrashing in my grip, but I slip two fingers into her mouth, trying to make her gag. I can't afford to waste a second, not when she finally started getting better.

She starts coughing. Her body jerks, resisting me, but then she gags hard and leans over the sink. I quickly gather her hair in my hand, pulling it back, rubbing her back as she vomits into the basin. My other hand holds her steady as her knees threaten to buckle. I turn the tap on and wash her face, then grab some tissues to gently clean the corners of her mouth. Then she jerks away from me.

"Don't," she says, her voice shaking with fury. Her eyes were red, wet, broken, and locked onto mine. "Why the fuck do you always have to come between everything?!"

Her voice shatters in the air, and she slams her fists into my chest. I don't even try to block it. I just look at her at the rage, the grief, the complete devastation behind her tears, she's been holding this in for years. Maybe her whole life. I can barely see her through the tears clouding my own eyes.

"I'm here, it's okay. Calm down," I murmur, wrapping my arms around her again though I know that would only make her angrier. "You can't take those. They're not safe."

"Shut up." Her voice cracks as she tries to shove me away. "Just shut the fuck up, Rudra." She starts hitting me again, weaker this time.

"Leave me, Rudra! I want to be alone! Just leave me the fuck alone!" I pull her into me holding her tighter as she screams into my shoulder.

"I'm not leaving you. Not this time," I whisper. "I'm right here." My vision blurs again. Watching her like this destroyed from the inside it fucking hurts.

"I don't need you," she growls. "Just move the fuck back. Why can't you ever give me space?!"

I close my eyes, "You've had space for eighteen years. And look where it's brought you."

Her gaze darts toward the pill bottle still sitting on the counter. I see it too and I move before she does. She lunges, but I grab it first and hold it out of her reach.

"Give it back!" she yells, grabbing at my arm, digging her nails into my skin.

My hand clenches around the bottle, and before I can think twice, I throw it across the bathroom. It hits the wall behind her and falls out of sight. She spins, but before she can go after it, I wrap my arms around her waist from behind, locking her against me.

"Don't,"

"Let me go," she growls through gritted teeth, struggling again.

"No."

She thrashes harder, but I hold on, my hand on her shoulder, my chest against her back, her breath shaky and fast.

"I said let me go!" she screams again.

Her knees buckle, and she collapses to the floor, sobbing. I catch her before she completely hits the ground, wrapping my arms around her, trying to hold her together even though she's falling apart right in front of me.

She's trying to get to the pills by crawling on floor. Her eyes are fixed on the damn bottle. She claws at my arms, twisting in my grip, "Let me go. Please. I need it."

"No," I breathe out, pulling her back against me, one arm tight around her waist, the other sliding around her shoulder. "You don't. You don't need any of that. You need someone to hold you right now. I'm here." I hold her as close as I can without crushing her. My face pressed to the side of her head, and my throat tightens with the burn of everything I don't know how to fix.

"It's not your fault, Pearl," I whisper near her ear. "Not a single part of this is your fault, Pearl. You didn't deserve any of it. Please, don't do this. Don't hurt yourself like this."

She doesn't stop crying. If anything, she cries harder, her legs thrashing against the floor as she keeps trying to break away. Her hands grab at mine, digging her nails into my skin like she's trying to force me to feel it with her.

"Just go. Please, why are you doing this to me?" she cries.

"I'm not leaving. Hurt me, scream at me, I don't care, just don't take those pills."

She lets out a sound somewhere between a sob and a scream and it shatters everything in me. Her head drops back against my shoulder, exhausted.

I slide my palm to her face. She didn't hear me or maybe she did and just didn't care. Her cries grew louder, more frantic, as she tried to pry my arms off her, while keeps trying to wiggle away. "You don't have to be okay right now," I tell her, gently tilting her face toward me. "But don't numb it. Don't run from it. Let it hurt, let it out, and I swear I'll sit here with you until it doesn't anymore."

She doesn't answer. She just cries. And I just keep holding her "If you need to hurt someone, hurt me," I whisper near her ear. "Scream, hit, hate me if it helps... but don't go reaching for something that'll take you away from me."

She finally stops fighting. Her breathing was uneven as she leans into me, her head resting heavily against my chest. Her eyes close but the tears don't stop. I hold her there, both of us still on the floor, and shift so I can face her properly. My arms wrap around her and she doesn't resist just buries her face in my shirt and clutches the fabric.

"You don't have to fight alone, Pearl," I murmur, brushing my hand gently through her hair. "I'm here. Not to fix you... I just want to stay. With you, through all of it. However long it takes."

Her arms wrap tighter around me and she starts shaking again. She's crying harder and screaming. I feel her ribs moving with each sob against my chest, and I can't stop my own tears from falling.

How long has she carried all this? Alone. Eighteen years of pain, silence, and whatever kind of hell she walked through to end up here, in my arms like this. I close my eyes and kiss the top of her head, wishing that I could go back and take every moment of it away. Be there with her through it all. She should never have gone through that by herself.

She shifts slightly and looks up at me. Her eyes red and glassy, her face streaked with tears. "I tried," she whispers. "I swear, Rudra... I'm trying not to take the pills. I don't want to do this anymore. I want to live like a normal person. I really do... but I can't. I can't stop myself sometimes. I don't know how to-" her voice cracks, "-but I'm trying. Please believe me. I'm trying."

I nod slowly, my hands coming up to her face. I cup her cheeks, holding her gently, my thumbs brushing away the tears that keep coming. I can feel how much of her is still that quiet, soft, scared woman underneath all the walls she built. People called her cold, rude, distant. But they never realized that the person they judged so easily was just trying to hold herself together. That the heart they thought was stone... was the one that hurt the most.

"I do believe you. And it's enough that you're still trying. You don't have to win this fight in a day. We'll take it piece by piece, and I'll be right here for all of it. Even on the days you feel like you've lost."

Her lips tremble, and she leans into my touch. I press my forehead to hers for a moment before kissing her gently there.

She folds back into my chest, and I wrap her up again. I look up, swallowing the tightness in my throat, and lift her into my arms. Her hands cling around my neck as I carry her toward the bedroom.

I place her on the bed as gently as I can. Grabbing the water bottle from the nightstand, I twist the cap open and bring it to her lips. She drinks in quick, desperate gulps, her hands trembling so much that I keep mine steady around the bottle.

Once she's done, I set it aside and pull the comforter over her. I was about to move away when her fingers latch onto my forearm. I meet her eyes.

"Don't go," she whispers.

I turn fully and slide under the comforter beside her. Pulling her into my arms, I bury my face against her neck. "I'm not going anywhere," I murmur, and I mean it.

"It's scary." Her body shivers against mine, "I was there... Taffy was barking, I was screaming at them to stop, but they didn't. They just kept-" her breath catches, "-kept doing everything to my mumma. She was screaming, fighting, begging, but no one listened. He said he didn't understand 'no' while she tried to push him away. There were three men, Rudra. Three. And they all..." Her voice breaks completely. "It happened right in front of me. I can't live with that memory. Every time I close my eyes, I see it all over again. I hear every word. I can't ever forget it. My mumma didn't deserve this."

I'm shaken in a way I can't even put into words. Her mother. God... no woman deserves something like that. The thought of her fighting, begging, and still being violated it makes my chest feel tight, like I can't breathe. And knowing Pearl saw it all, that she had to stand there powerless while it happened... I can't even begin to understand how a person survives carrying that. It's not just the pain of my Pearl that's breaking me, it's the thought of the woman who raised her. I can't begin to imagine the terror she felt, the fight she had to find in herself while those animals ignored her cries, her mother living her last moments in fear and agony, and still finding the strength to protect her daughter.

That bastard said he doesn't understand no, he'll understand it in a way that will burn into him for the rest of his life. I'll make sure every second of his existence reminds him of the screams he ignored.

She clutches my shirt, "My mumma... she pointed the gun at them and told me to run. I ran, Rudra. I fell on the road. That's when Yashwant came. He..." She swallows, "He said he'd do to me what they did to her."

My stomach drops. I pull back just enough to see her face. "What?"

She nods, crying harder. "He said it wouldn't hurt and started to pull my zip down. I begged him not to, but he wouldn't stop. Then he got a call and left."

I take a sharp breath and pull her into me again.

Yashwant fucking Bansal. I knew the man was filth, but this... this makes him something lower than a maggot. I can see his face in my mind, and it makes my hands itch. That smug bastard isn't just going to die he's going to understand what fear tastes like. I want him stripped of every ounce of control, screaming until his voice is nothing but blood and air. I want his bones to remember my grip. I want him begging, not because I'll let him live, but because I'll make sure he knows there's no end coming soon. Slow, drawn out. I'll break him in ways that make death feel like mercy, and I won't give him that mercy until I've taken everything from him his pride, his breath, his fucking soul. And when he thinks it's over, when he thinks he can't take another second, that's when I'll remind him of her face. My Pearl and her mother. And I'll keep going until there's nothing left but a broken thing that knows exactly what "no" means.

✿✿✿✿✿

N E X T   D A Y

"Where's Saanvi? Is she okay?"

Her father sits across from me on the couch, pretending to be concerned. The act makes my skin crawl and I look away, staring at the far wall of the study room, forcing myself to breathe.

"Rudra, say something. Is she okay?" My eyes shift to Pranay Malhotra her beloved Chachaji who looks at me like he's desperate for answers. I almost laugh. The theatrics are impressive.

"She saw him, didn't she?" her brother finally says.

"Well acted," I murmur, "Now stop this bullshit."

"Where's she?" her father repeats, as if repeating the question will make me forget everything I know.

"In her room. With my mother, and I'd strongly advise you to drop the concerned parent routine. Because if you actually cared, you wouldn't have abandoned her in New York. You wouldn't have withdrawn your wife's complaint after a few pathetic threats. You wouldn't have left-"

"Complete that fucking sentence, Rudra, and I'll hit you so hard your whole bloodline will feel it." I turn to Vikram, who's glaring at me with his jaw tight enough to crack a tooth. The controlled fury in his eyes, the heat radiating off him is the kind of rage that's dangerous. If he weren't on the wrong side of this, I might almost admire it.

"Only if you'd shown this kind of courage when it came to your mother's case. Or your sister's," I tilt my head slightly "And yeah, I've always wondered. What exactly has your father done to make you stand in front of him like some loyal guard dog? Because all I see is a coward-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Vikram explodes, stepping toward me before his father grabs his arm and pulls him back. He stands there, chest heaving, shooting daggers at me. I see the vein at his temple, the way his hands flex at his sides as if he's seconds away from wrapping them around my throat.

"Just because you know half the truth doesn't mean you get to stand here and bash my brother," Pranay Malhotra barks, "Because all I know is he's the strongest man I've ever met."

I look at him and feel something sour rise in my throat. The way they talk about Anubhav Malhotra, you'd think he was some kind of deity. Blind loyalty but it's pathetic.

"Fine," I say, settling into the couch in front of them, "Spill it. The whole thing. How did Yashwant Bansal walk into your lives? And why did he do what he did?"

Mr. Malhotra finally looks up at me.

AUTHOR'S POV

2007 | California

Vikram stands at the bathroom sink, brushing his teeth while staring at his reflection. His hair falls into his eyes, his loose nightshirt hangs over cartoon pajama bottoms, and panda slippers cover his feet. Suddenly a loud bang on the bathroom door jolts him.

He pulls the toothbrush from his mouth and sighs. "Saanvi, go away."

He hears another bang, louder this time.

He grits his teeth. "SAANVI!"

"I need to pee!" she shouts through the door.

"Wait for your turn!"

"I can't, Bhai! Open the door before I-"

There was a sudden silence, the kind that feels suspicious. "Saanvi?" he says, cautious.

She giggles on the other side, low and mischievous, the kind of laugh that makes him picture her grinning like a villain.

"Don't you dare pee outside the door-"

"Bhai, I'm gonna do it."

"YOU LITTLE GREMLIN!" He yanks the door open. "Go before you ruin my life!"

She struts inside like she's walking a red carpet, tossing him a glance of pure triumph.

"You're a demon in human form," he mutters.

"And you're a loser who just lost to a nine year old," she calls back from inside.

He stomps his foot like it might make him feel better.

"What's going on here?"

Vikram turns to see his father, Anubhav, standing there in a sharp suit, briefcase in hand, looking like he's stepped straight out of a boardroom.

"Dad," Vikram says, stepping toward him with exaggerated misery. "Finally, you're back."

Anubhav chuckles and crouches, pulling him into a quick hug. "What happened to my sweet little boy? Who dared to mess with you?" he asks with mock outrage.

"Your precious," he deadpan.

Anubhav only smiles. "That's not my department. Handle it yourself."

Vikram stares at him betrayed.

"You're her elder brother," Anubhav says, ruffling his hair.

"So? She beats me up, eats my chocolates and basically rules the house. Just because I'm older doesn't mean I should roll over and bow down to her like a peasant-"

"Two days ago, you put gum in her hair for fun, last week you kicked her off the bed while you were sleeping and the week before that you scared her half to death with that creepy mask," Anubhav reminds him.

Vikram presses his lips together and glances away, trying not to smile.

"You're both a pain in the ass," Anubhav mutters as he stands.

He loosens his tie and starts toward the hallway. "Now, where's my cardiologist? After dealing with business all night and dealing with this circus in the morning, I need my doctor."

"I have no idea where your wife is. Go find her yourself," Vikram calls after him.

Anubhav shakes his head at his son's audacity.

He walks into the bedroom, scanning the space until his eyes find Suhana standing by the glass balcony door. Her gaze fixed on the sprawling city skyline. The tall buildings rise like sentinels in the distance, one skyscraper cutting a sharp silhouette against the morning haze. He smiles, setting his briefcase down on the bed before crossing the room.

He slips his arms around her waist from behind, rests his chin on her shoulder, and lets his gaze follow hers toward the horizon. "Last night," he murmurs against her cheek, pressing a soft kiss there, "I realised I can't even live a night without you, Mrs. Cardiologist. I can't imagine living my whole life without you."

He exhales with a quiet chuckle. "And those two weirdos, waking up at nine thirty and fighting like it's their cultural heritage." He shakes his head, but the humor fades when he feels her body unresponsive against him.

"Suhana?" His brow furrows. He releases her and pulls back enough to turn her toward him. The sight of her red, puffy eyes and the pink at the tip of her nose makes his chest tighten.

"What happened?" His voice softens as he cups her face. "Why are you crying?" Her eyes glaze again, fresh tears threatening.

He tilts his head, his own heartbeat picking up. "Did something happen? Tell me, baby. Why are you crying?" His thumb strokes her cheek. Almost without thinking, he takes her hand, presses a kiss to the back of it and freezes when he sees the reddish imprint of fingers on her wrist.

His jaw tightens as he looks at her, "Who?"

She shakes her head.

"I asked who did this, Suhana." His tone sharpen, edged with a command.

"Yashwant," she whispers.

Anubhav closes his eyes for a moment, tilting his head as though it might contain the fury surging inside him.

"Months ago," she begins, "when he came for that house party, I noticed... the way he looked at me. It was wrong. I know you asked me that night if something was bothering me, but I couldn't bring myself to say it. I kept thinking what if I'd misunderstood? But then... then the messages started." She grips her sleeve.

"What messages?"

"He said... if I spent one night with him, he'd help you more in business." Her voice cracks under the shame, and she grips his shirt. "Yesterday, while you were out, he came to the house. He tried to make me agree. And then he-" she touches her wrist-"he grabbed me here. I told him no, Anubhav. I swear."

His breath comes sharp, his fists curling tight even as he holds her closer. "And why the hell didn't you tell me?" His tone rises, not at her, but at the thought of her suffering in silence. "All that time I kept asking you if something was wrong, and you kept saying everything was fine."

"I was scared," she says, looking up at him, "My mind just... froze. I didn't know what to do."

He presses a slow kiss to her forehead, then to her bruised wrist, his gaze fixed there. "It's not your fault," he says, though his gaze stays fixed on the mark like it's an open wound. His mind keeps replaying what it must have looked like, what that man's hands must have done. Each image sharpens his rage.

He steps back.

"Anubhav? Where are you-"

"I'll be back," he says, already moving toward the door, his chest rising and falling with controlled rage. "Stay at home."

✿✿✿✿✿

"Mr. Malhotra? Yashwant sir is actually in a small meeting-"

The receptionist's words cut off as she caught sight of him storming into the building. His face was set in a hard scowl, and with a furious glare.

Anubhav rolls up his sleeves as he walks, veins bulging on his forearms and throbbing at his neck like taut cords ready to snap. He stops just outside the meeting room, delivering a sharp, thunderous kick to the door that swung open on its hinges.

The crash echoes through the space, making half the board flinch. Inside, Yashwant sits at the head of the long table surrounded by a handful of older executives.

"Anubhav, this is not-"

The words never finish. Anubhav crosses the space in three steps, grabs Yashwant by the collar, and yanks him out of his chair. The first punch lands square on his cheek, snapping his head to the side. The second smashes into the bridge of his nose, snapping his head back.

"You put your filthy hands on my wife? You think you can sniff around her, touch her like you're entitled to even look at her? Who the fuck do you think you are?" Another punch sends Yashwant staggering until he crashes to the floor. Yashwant stumbles back, breathing hard, eyes wide in disbelief as he wipes the blood pooling at the corner of his mouth.

One of the older men at the table finds his voice. "You can't just-"

"Sit down," Anubhav snaps, cutting him off with a look sharp enough to shut him up mid sentence. "Or I'll give you a personal demonstration of what broken teeth taste like." The man sits down.

Yashwant grits his teeth. "Do you have any idea what the consequences will be?"

"Consequences?" Anubhav crouches and hauls him up again by the collar. "You worry about the consequences of what you did, you slimy son of a bitch."

Yashwant tries to shove him off, but Anubhav barely shifts. Another punch to the jaw sends him reeling. "Don't waste my time, Yashwant. You're standing here getting your face remodeled by a WBC boxer. You're not going to win this. Not with me."

Yashwant's lip curls into a half-smirk despite the blood. "Let me guess-she told you I offered her a deal? One night, that's all it would've taken. That offer still stands, you know. If you-"

The punch to the chest knocks the air out of him, sending him coughing and clutching his ribs.

"Finish that sentence, and I'll stop being a businessman right now. I will turn into the kind of man who buries you and makes your family wonder why you never came home. You even say her name again and I will make sure the last thing you see is my fucking face." Anubhav says, his voice cracking with restrained fury.

His grip tightens, dragging him close enough that their foreheads almost touch. "You claim you're here to help me? Take this advice, learn to be a man first. The woman you dared to touch, scratch that, the woman you assaulted is my wife. My woman. And the fact that you even thought I'd let that slide tells me you've never met a real man in your life."

Yashwant swallows hard, still trying to shove him away. Anubhav grabs a handful of his hair and slams his head down on the table. The impact rings through the room.

By now, there's a crowd gathered at the doorway, some gasping, others whispering.

"Call security!" someone shouts.

One man steps forward to intervene, but Anubhav's rage was a storm unleashed. He cracked the guy's jaw with a single punch. The man collapsed, clutching his face.

Yashwant is slumped on the ground now, bleeding from his nose, lip, and forehead.

Anubhav crouches, "I don't know if you qualify as a man, Yashwant. But I am. And a man stands up for his wife and her dignity, no matter what it costs him. I don't give a shit about your board, your money, or your name. I am the man who will destroy you for laying a finger on her. So listen up, spineless cocksucker, say one more word about her, and I'll fucking end you. Think twice before you even breathe in her damn direction. This partnership? Dead. You? One word away from joining it."

He straightens, dusting his hands. For a moment it seems he'll leave, but halfway to the door he turns back, takes two measured steps toward Yashwant, and delivers a brutal kick into Yashwant's ribs. Yashwant curls in on himself, groaning in pain.

Without another word, Anubhav turns and walks out. The crowd parts instantly, eyes dropping, bodies stepping back to give him a clear path.

✿✿✿✿✿

"We're going to file an FIR against Yashwant tomorrow." Anubhav says making Suhana stops tending to his knuckles on the couch and looks up at him quietly.

"I don't want to," she says softly.

"Don't fuck with me, Suhana. You already did enough by keeping quiet about that bastard. We're going to the police station. End of discussion."

Suhana finishes wrapping his knuckles and meets his eyes. "I just don't want us involved in all this. Please, just let it go."

He blinks in disbelief, like he's trying to process how she can say that. "Are you serious? You know what he did, he physically assaulted you. And you're acting like it's some kind of risk to go to the police. Suhana, listen to me. He didn't feel an ounce of shame when he did that. But you-you're the one who suffered." His frustration seeps through the calm he tries to hold.

Suhana looks down, twisting her fingers in her lap.

He sighs and rubs his face before pulling her into a tight hug. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you." His voice drops, "But you have to understand why this matters. And tell me, what are you afraid of? I'm here. We're in this together." He brushes his thumb gently over her cheek.

She looks up at him, "Please, Anubhav, don't do this. I don't want a complaint, or an FIR. This could affect your business-"

He interrupts, "Suhana, please stop with this," Anubhav says gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I've always told Saanvi never bow down to any man no matter who he is. If someone tries to suppress you, you don't back down, you stand up and fight back, never let anyone push her down. That's the kind of strength I want her to have from the very beginning. I don't want her to be the kind of woman who just lets everything slide and carries the weight of someone else's cruelty silently. And if I expect my daughter to stand her ground, how could I ever blame you, my wife, the woman I love most, for standing up for yourself? This isn't about business or consequences. This is about protecting what's ours and refusing to accept disrespect."

"I understand," she says. "I just don't want-"

"We will file that FIR. End of story."

She stands abruptly, tears in her eyes. "Why can't you stop being so stubborn? You already beat him to a pulp. The news is out. When I say I don't want the police involved, why can't you just understand that?" Her voice cracks as she struggles to hold back tears.

He steps forward, lips parted to speak, but she steps back quickly.

"Stop," she says sharply. "Listen to me. I don't consent to this. We're just a middle-class family. I want a quiet life with you and our children. But you-you always do whatever you want, like you don't care what I say. We are not filing any complaints."

"Suhana-"

"No. I said we're not filing. This is my life, and it's my decision."

Frustration bubbles in him, but he holds back.

"Say it," she urges softly.

He sighs, hesitant, then nods. She softens, steps forward, and wraps her arms around him. His hands hang at his sides for a moment, then slowly he hugs her back.

"Thank you for understanding," she murmurs. He holds her a little tighter.

✿✿✿✿✿

• A T   P R E S E N T •

Rudra stands across from Anubhav, his brows drawn together in confusion. "It's because you beat him?" he asks, disbelief threading through his voice.

Anubhav nods once, quietly.

Rudra rubs his forehead, pushing back from the couch as if trying to process it all. "What happened after your wife died? Why did you come back to India? And why send Saanvi to New York?" His questions come steady, seeking truth.

Anubhav looks up. "I went to every lawyer I could find, tried the highest courts, but the moment they heard Yashwant's name, they refused to file the complaint. The hospital doctored reports, said she died in a car accident from blood loss. Newspapers ran false stories. It was all Yashwant. Then one day, I got a call from him. That's when I found out he was stalking Vikram and Saanvi. His real target was Saanvi. I decided to come back. I pushed to file the complaint, and it eventually went through. But then, about a month after I arrived, Yashwant called again. I thought it would be a threat to drop the case. Instead, he told me the car Saanvi was supposed to be in on her way from school had a bomb."

Rudra's eyes widen in shock.

Anubhav swallows hard. "I rushed to the location near the traffic signal and saw the explosion. People were injured everywhere. I felt my life shatter. I ran through the chaos searching for Saanvi, but my heart gave out. I woke up in the hospital and learned she wasn't in the car. That's why she survived. That same day, doctors told me my heart condition had worsened-I didn't have much time left. Right after that, Yashwant called again, threatening to kill Saanvi. I was terrified. As much as I wanted to fight for Suhana, I had to protect Saanvi. I couldn't risk losing my daughter. That's why I sent her to New York away from everything, so she could live without fear. I thought if I didn't have much life left, at least she could be safe and live in peace. But somehow, my health improved because Vikram took care of me. He took over the business at a young age, and my burdens lessened." Anubhav glances toward Vikram.

Rudra studies them both for a moment, pressing his lips together as he tries to take it all in.

Suddenly, a low cry breaks the silence. Their heads turn toward the study's entrance. Adrika stands there holding Saanvi, whose tears trace down her cheeks as her gaze fixes on Anubhav.

They all rise with wide eyes.

"Saanvi..." Anubhav murmurs,

Saanvi rushes forward and throws herself into her father's arms, clinging tight as her sobs shake her frame.

"Saanvi," Anubhav murmurs again, rubbing her back softly. "Don't cry, beta. It's not your fault." His voice trembles with the effort to comfort. "You weren't supposed to hear that."

She pulls back just enough to look up at him. His heart breaks in that moment. He wipes her tears away gently, shaking his head.

"Can you tell us the date of the blast?" Abhiraj asks, standing nearby.

"May 10, 2007," Anubhav replies.

Abhiraj nods,

Rudra leans forward, "But why were you forcing her to go back to New York after she returned to India? Was Yashwant threatening you again?"

Anubhav glances down at Saanvi, still clinging to him, her face buried in his chest. He lets out a slow breath before answering. "When she said she wanted to come back, Pranay and I tried everything to convince her not to. She wouldn't listen. She came anyway. By then... she hated me. And if that's what it took to see her alive and breathing, I was willing to take that hate. So we figured if we all kept our distance, she would get tired and would have no choice but to leave India and go back."

Saanvi's shoulders tremble against him, and she hides further in his shirt. Anubhav looks back at Rudra. "I asked her to live with us. She refused. Started living alone. Pranay invited her to stay with them she refused that too. We were all on edge about her safety, so I had guards posted near her building. But then the calls started again. Over and over. That psychopath... he told me outright he enjoyed watching us at odds. Said if I dared to show her any affection, he'd kill her. He wanted her to hate me, so I'd suffer. That was his game. Make my own daughter despise me." His voice catches, and he tips his head back as if willing the tears not to fall.

Saanvi finally pulls back enough to look at him, her own face streaked with tears.

"It was only a few months after she came back to India," Pranay says, drawing their attention. His eyes flick to Rudra. "That's when you entered her life. And things started to... shift." He glances at Saanvi before continuing. "When you planned that trip to Varanasi, I wanted to stop her. I told her not to go. She wouldn't listen. I knew we couldn't afford to have her out of our sight. So... I did the one thing I thought would work. I used Suhana's name to hurt her, hoping guilt would keep her here. It was wrong. And I'm sorry. I'm really sorry Saanvi. I feel awful for doing that. But I never-" he shakes his head, meeting her eyes-"I never blamed you for Suhana's death. Not for a second."

Saanvi's lips tremble, tears spilling faster as she steps toward him. He meets her halfway, pulling her into a gentle embrace. One of his hands cradles the back of her head as if she's still a child. She closes her eyes, leaning into him for a moment before pulling back.

Pranay turns to Rudra. "I didn't know what else to do, so I asked Dr. Mishra to make sure she was never alone, especially in public places."

Saanvi blinks at him, remembering now how Dr. Mishra had insisted she not go to the ghat alone. She looks up at her chachaji, piecing it together in silence.

Pranay exhales, "That's when I found out Rudra was with her most of the time. Bhaiya and I realized quickly that Rudra wasn't just some random man he's a powerful businessman. And once they started thinking Saanvi was connected to him, no one wanted to take the risk of crossing him. For the moment, that kept her safe."

Anubhav's eyes shift to Rudra, "But I didn't know how long that safety would last. And I didn't want my daughter anywhere near you. Your reputation in the business world back then was worse. Playboy, that's what you were famous for. Every possible rumor floating around. That's why I arranged her engagement to Vihaan Oberoi. I thought he was a decent man. After the wedding, I planned to send her out of India, away from all of this. Then you overheard me talking about it and you said you wanted to marry her yourself. I nearly punched you right there. But then you told me you loved her. I didn't believe you. But you also swore you'd stopped sleeping around. Said you wanted only Saanvi. And at the time, the news backed it up, you'd actually disappeared from those headlines. Still, I wasn't convinced. But I also knew something else, with you, she was safe. And as a father desperate to keep his daughter alive... I agreed to the marriage. I'm not proud of how that decision was made, and maybe it wasn't the wisest choice but at the time it felt like the only one."

Turning to Saanvi, he cups her cheek, "I never traded you for business, Saanvi. I never signed those papers people talk about."

She swallows, blinking through the tears. "I know,"

"I'm sorry for everything," Anubhav says, "For pushing you away. For letting you believe I didn't care. I have always loved you... my precious."

The old endearment lands like a blow and a balm all at once. Saanvi shuts her eyes, and the tears spill over, unrestrained.

"Can I have a few moments with her alone? Please?" Anubhav asks,

The others exchange glances, then nod. One by one, they leave the study, closing the door behind them. Anubhav looks at his daughter.

"There's one thing I can't justify," he says after a long pause. "The distance. That part was real. All those years misunderstandings, your anger, it broke us apart. And I don't blame you. I never did. It was my decision to send you away. You were just a child. I thought I was protecting you, but in the end, I hurt you most. And your heart condition...That came from me, too. I didn't know you were suffering like that, alone." His lips press into a thin line as tears pool in his eyes.

Saanvi shakes her head. "Please don't. Don't say that."

He draws in a shaky breath. "The day I left you in New York... you called me 'Dad.'"

Her eyes lift to meet his.

"I knew what it meant. You were asking for my help. I knew I was hurting you that's why you called me that. Believe me, beta, I wanted to turn around and hold you. I wanted to bring you home. But I couldn't. It was... it was the hardest thing I've ever done, walking away from you like that."

Saanvi's tears spill faster.

"I never abandoned you, my precious girl." He reaches up to wipe her cheeks. "I was always there. Your school events, your ceremonies, your graduation... I was there. I just stayed hidden. Watching you sit alone while other kids had their parents, watching you eat by yourself, watching you grow quieter it tore me apart. But then I saw you with Shaurya, and for the first time in years, I felt relief. You finally had someone." He tries to smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

She shakes her head, "You were about to di..." She can't finish, pressing her lips together as more tears fall. "What if I never found out? All my life I thought you abandoned me. I blamed you. I hated you. And all that time, you were protecting me. How could you even think like that?" Her voice rises through her tears. "You thought if you died, I'd live peacefully? Safely?"

Anubhav shakes his head, breaking down with her. "I'm sorry. I didn't want you to carry the guilt. I knew you, you'd find a way to blame yourself. And when I saw that your in-laws treated you well, that you were happy... I didn't want to come in and drop a bomb on your life. I didn't want to take away that peace."

"So what? I was happy with them doesn't mean I forgot you. Yes, I hated you for not trusting me. I wanted you to believe me. I never cheated on Rudra, and I never cared about any property. That was all Navya's doing. But you... you chose to believe her, not me. Do you know how much that hurt?"

Anubhav's shoulders sag. "I know. And I'm sorry. I made a terrible mistake not trusting you. I'll regret that for the rest of my life."

"Even after all that, you still didn't tell me the whole truth. Why? I said so many horrible things to you. I called you a bad father, a bad husband...I even said-" Her words collapse into a sob, unable to finish remembering the cruel words she said to her father.

"Only if Mumma would have been here I wouldn't have had to go through any of this."

"I used to wonder why it had to be her. Why she had to be the one to leave. Why not you? Why didn't you die instead? Because whether you live or not it doesn't matter to me. Your presence doesn't bring comfort. It doesn't mean anything. You could be standing right in front of me or be buried six feet under it would feel the same."

"I would've rather grown up as an orphan than grow up with a father like you,"

"You failed as a father. But that wasn't enough, right? You failed as a husband too."

Anubhav pulls her into his arm. "It's okay, Saanvi. Don't do that to yourself. You were angry. You had every right to be. I know I'm the one who made us fall apart. But I'm here now, and I'll work on this. I'll do whatever it takes to close the distance between us. I want your forgiveness, you don't need to give it just because you feel sad about the past or because you're sad or feel sorry for me. None of this was your fault." He leans back, cupping her face gently. "Okay?"

Her nose was red, her eyes wet. "I'm in no place to forgive you, Dad. Because it's me I'm the reason Mumma never got justice. You were forced to send me away. You sacrificed everything for me. How can I-"

"Let me build it back, let me at least try to have what we once had," he interrupts softly. "Let me have my precious again."

"You already do," she whispers, wrapping her arms around him.

Anubhav holds her tightly, closing his eyes as a deep, long breath escapes him relief washing over every line of his face. "Meri bacchi," he whisper, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

✿✿✿✿✿

"Silas, she's not in a condition to tell anyone anything, and I don't give a damn about that operation right now." Rudra ends the call without waiting for a reply and exhales, running a hand over his face.

When he turns, he sees Saanvi standing at the entrance to the kitchen. Her posture tired, her eyes swollen and rimmed red from the night before.

"Hungry?" he asks softly.

She only nods.

"Sit. I'll get food."

She moves to the dining table while he disappears into the kitchen. A minute later, he's back with two plates. Before he can set them down, a bark echoes from the hallway. Brownie comes bounding in, tail wagging. Rudra glances at the dog, shakes his head, and heads to the counter for Brownie's food. Brownie hops onto the chair beside Saanvi, his big eyes fixed on her. When he rests a paw gently on her hand, she forces a small smile.

"I'm okay. Eat," she tells him.

Brownie lets out a short bark before tucking into his meal. Rudra watches the exchange, a small smile tugging at his lips, then sets Saanvi's plate in front of her and sits down with his own, serving food.

They eat quietly for a while before she breaks the silence. "Was that Mr. Wilson?"

He nods.

"What does he want from me?"

Rudra hesitates, setting down his fork. "On April fifth when everything happened, there was someone else there. Silas, my dad, the whole team... they've been searching for him. That's when they found you. But they didn't find him. He ran."

Her brows knit together. "Who?"

"Alfred," Rudra says. "An underground mafia boss. His organization's into human trafficking, drug supply, murders... worse. The kind of man who leaves nothing but damage behind."

"And your... spy ring thinks I know something?"

"They think you might have noticed something that day. Silas and Uncle Lorenzo didn't press you back then because you were just a kid, terrified and crying. But you don't need to-"

"They can ask me," she interrupts.

He frowns. "You're not in a condition to do this."

She takes a breath. "You said he's a big criminal. If I can help, I will. And don't turn this into an argument, Rudra. If I didn't want to, I'd say no. But I do. So I will."

Rudra studies her for a long moment before nodding once.

"Mr. Wilson seems very determined to catch Alfred," she says after a pause.

"He is. He's got a personal reason, Silas's father was the manager at NVC. Silas never planned to join the organization, but something happened that left him no choice." Rudra goes back to his food.

"What happened?" she waits.

"Fernanda García," Rudra says. "She was his girlfriend. They'd been together for years. She was four months pregnant, and they'd decided to get married. On the day of the wedding, Alfred's men attacked. Fernanda was killed instantly. The baby too. Silas was shot but survived. Later, he found out NVC had rescued women from Alfred's network, so Alfred went after him for revenge, when Silas wasn't even part of NVC. But after that... he joined for one reason, to kill Alfred. That's why he's so desperate."

Saanvi sits quietly, absorbing the weight of it. "That Alfred is a real bastard," she mutters.

"He is," Rudra agrees.

"I'll help Mr. Wilson if I can," she says softly, her gaze fixed on the bowl in front of her. "He helped me once... eighteen years ago."

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