Aayat's POV

I didn't look at him.

Couldn't.

Because if I did, I knew I'd break in ways I never allowed myself to.

"I used to call him uncle. I used to trust him with my little brother's hands."

My lips curved, but there was no emotion left in it.

"And he smiled. Every time."

I felt numb. Not crying. Not shaking.

Just... empty.

"Funny thing is," I said softly, "the world thinks monsters come with horns. With scars. With anger."

I finally turned to Mihir.

"But the one who killed my brother used to bring chocolates."

Silence.

Heavy. Suffocating.

"I hate that person," I whispered. "Not because he took Aarav from me..."

My voice dropped even lower.

"But because he still gets to live like family."

Something in my chest collapsed after that.

I didn't realise when Mihir moved.

Didn't realise when his arms came around me.

But he didn't pull me.

Didn't tighten his grip.

He just stood there.

Letting me lean into him if I wanted.

Letting me fall apart without asking me to be okay.

And for the first time in years...

I let myself.

I didn't mean to cry.

It just... happened.

One second I was talking, breathing, pretending like always

and the next my chest felt too tight to hold anything in.

I hate that part of myself.

The part that still breaks.

I felt Mihir's hand on my back before I even realised I was shaking.

He didn't pull me closer. Didn't say anything dramatic.

He just stayed.

That was worse than comfort.

That was safety.

"You don't have to be strong here," he said quietly.

I almost laughed. Almost told him he didn't know what he was asking.

But instead, I leaned forward.

Just a little.

"I'm tired of breaking in places no one can see," I whispered.

I felt his chest rise as he breathed. Slow. Controlled.

"Then stop hiding it."

I wanted to tell him I didn't know how.

That I'd been hiding since I was a child.

That it wasn't a choice anymore, it was muscle memory.

But I didn't.

I just stayed there until my breathing slowed, until the ache in my throat dulled.

When I finally pulled back, my face felt hot and stupid.

"Sorry," I said.

He frowned like the word offended him. "For what?"

"For forgetting the contract for a moment."

The sentence tasted bitter.

He said something about being human. About not performing in front of him.

It should've made me feel better.

It didn't.

Because the problem wasn't that I forgot the contract.

The problem was that with him...

it was starting to feel unnecessary.

"I don't cry," I said quietly.

"I noticed. You implode instead."

I smiled despite myself.

Then I did what I always do.

I straightened my spine. Fixed my face. Put myself back together.

"I'm fine now."

And he looked at me like he didn't believe a single word.

He was right.

I wasn't fine.

I was just done crying.

And somehow, that felt more dangerous.

I wiped my face quickly, forcing my voice to stay steady.

"Let's focus on Naina and Advit," I said. "This isn't about me."

Mihir was quiet for a moment.

Then he said, softly, not dramatic, not loud

"Even in a contract, Aayat... you're still under my responsibility."

I looked at him.

Not shocked. Just... caught.

He didn't step closer. Didn't touch me.

Just added, almost like he was reminding himself as much as me:

"So I won't let anything happen to you. That's all."

That was it.

Not love.

Not a promise that broke the rules.

Just a line that felt far too gentle for a deal on paper.

I took a breath, steady this time.

"Okay," I said. "Then let's do this properly. Let's find Naina and Advit."

Mihir nodded immediately. "We don't rush. We don't react to Dev. We trace him. We break his leverage."

I shook my head. "That'll take time we don't have."

He looked at me sharply. "And what's your shortcut, Aayat?"

I met his eyes. Didn't flinch.

"I'll sell my company to him."

The words landed heavier than I expected.

Mihir laughed once. Not amused. "No."

"It's the only way he'll move," I said calmly. "He wants control, not money. This is his real price."

He stepped closer. "You didn't build that empire for someone like Dev to touch it."

"And you didn't become CM to lose your siblings," I replied just as quietly.

His jaw tightened. "We'll find another way."

"There isn't one," I said. "Not one that keeps them safe."

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then he said, low and firm, "I don't agree."

I nodded. "I know."

"But you're still doing it," he said.

"Yes."

Silence again.

Finally he looked away, hand running through his hair, like he was fighting ten thoughts at once.

"Convince me," he said. "Because right now all I see is you walking into his trap."

I stepped closer.

"Dev thinks I'm the price," I said. "Let him believe that. While he's busy owning my company... you find where he's hiding Naina and Advit."

His eyes darkened. "And if he doesn't keep his word?"

"Then you take everything from him," I said simply.

"Just like he plans to take everything from you."

He stared at me for a long time.

Then, finally, he said the one thing that told me he'd lost the argument

"...You're really doing this, aren't you?"

I didn't answer.

I just nodded.

And for the first time since I met Mihir Raghuvanshi, he looked like a man who had no power left to stop what was coming.

I took a slow breath.

"I'll go," I said. "I'll meet him with the company papers. Everything ready."

Mihir looked up instantly. "I'm coming with you."

I shook my head. "No."

"That's not a suggestion," he said, already standing. "You're not walking into Dev Chopra's office alone."

I stepped in front of him. "And you're not turning this into a political war."

His jaw tightened. "This is personal."

"That's exactly why you can't come," I said quietly.

He frowned. "Explain."

"If you walk in with me, he wins twice," I said. "Once by owning my company. And again by proving he can drag the Chief Minister wherever he wants."

He opened his mouth, but I didn't let him.

"You're too visible, Mihir. Too powerful. He'll use your presence to change the deal."

He stared at me, eyes burning. "So I just sit here and wait while you hand yourself over?"

I softened my voice. Just a little.

"You don't wait," I said. "You watch. You trace. You prepare."

He shook his head. "That's not enough."

I stepped closer, lowering my voice.

"If something goes wrong," I said, "you need to be free to move. Not locked in the same room as me."

Silence.

Then he said quietly, "You think I don't know that?"

I looked up at him. "Then trust me."

He laughed once, bitter. "You're asking a man who controls an entire state to trust a stranger with his wife."

I met his eyes.

"You're not trusting a stranger," I said.

"You're trusting the only person who's choosing to walk into the fire so you don't have to."

For a long second, he didn't speak.

Then he said, softer than before, almost gentle—

"...Don't make me regret letting you go alone."

My chest tightened.

I gave him a small smile. Not brave. Just honest.

"Then don't," I said. "Make him regret underestimating me instead."

I stepped into Dev's office.

"Ah, Aayat," he said smoothly, leaning back in his chair. "I was expecting you. The papers?"

"I'm not signing anything," I said, voice sharp. "Not until I see Naina and Advit."

He raised an eyebrow, amused. "Proof?"

With a flick of his hand, one of his men brought a tablet. On the screen, Naina and Advit appeared. They sat stiff, expressionless. Their eyes met mine.

I held the tablet a moment, then spoke coldly, fixing Dev with a hard look.

"Any wrong move from you, Dev... and you'll be dead. Understand?"

His smile didn't falter, but there was a flicker, just for a second.

"I understand," he said, smooth as ever. "But you'll sign eventually, Aayat."

I turned, keeping my voice low and deadly calm. "Maybe. After I make sure they come back safe."

I left his office, every step measured, heart racing, mind already planning the next move. Naina and Advit were alive. That was all that mattered.

I barely reached the door before a sharp hand stopped me.

Dev Chopra. Calm smile, cold eyes. The predator who had always known exactly how to corner me.

"Going somewhere, Aayat?" His voice was smooth, deceptively casual.

"I'm leaving," I said, forcing my tone steady. "I've seen the kids. That's enough for now."

He stepped closer, close enough that every instinct in me screamed danger. "Too clever, aren't you?" he said. "Always thinking two steps ahead. But not this time. You're not leaving until you sign."

I froze.

"You sign," he continued, "or you'll see your sister-in-law and brother-in-law... dead."

The words landed like a hammer. My pulse spiked. Every muscle tensed. Every memory I had, the years of blood, sweat, and sleepless nights building my company from nothing, flashed before me.

I thought of the first office I rented, the single desk and the second-hand chairs.

I thought of the nights I stayed awake, working while the world slept, while others doubted me, laughed at me, told me I couldn't do it.

I remembered every late-night call, every deal fought for, every risk I took to make the empire I'd built with my own hands.

And now here I was, cornered. Forced to give it all to save the people Mihir loved most.

I took a deep breath. My hands were steady. My mind raced, but my voice was calm. "Fine," I said, picking up the pen.

Dev's smile widened. "Good girl. That's the way to play the game."

I looked down at the papers. Every signature I placed felt like a betrayal to my years of work, but I didn't hesitate. Not once. Naina and Advit's lives mattered more than any empire. More than pride. More than vengeance.

I signed. Carefully. Deliberately. Every line etched in ink was a small death of the empire I had built, but also a calculated move in a bigger game.

Dev leaned back, satisfaction curling his lips. "Now we can talk. You see how simple that was?"

I didn't answer. I didn't show relief. Not yet. My mind was already planning the next moves, already thinking two, three steps ahead. Because while I had signed, I had not lost.

I had merely bought the time I needed.

The tablet flickered again, showing Naina and Advit. They were safe, for now. That was enough. That had to be enough.

I took a slow breath, remembering the first day I stepped into the corporate world, the first victory, the first hard-fought deal. Every failure, every rejection, every sleepless night had led me here—to this impossible choice. And I would survive it. I would find a way to get our family back, and to take back everything Dev thought he had won.

Because I had built more than a company. I had built resilience. Strategy. Ruthless focus. And no man, no Dev Chopra, was going to break that.

I handed back the pen. My face calm. My mind racing.

"Done," I said.

Dev's smile didn't fade, but the brief flicker in his eyes told me he knew he hadn't fully won.

I stepped back, heart pounding, ready to play the next move in a game he thought I couldn't control.

___

The house was quiet when I walked in.

Too quiet.

Mihir was in the living room, pacing, phone in hand, jacket still on, like he hadn't sat down since I left. The moment he saw me, he stopped.

His eyes went straight to my face.

"You signed," he said. Not a question.

I nodded once. "Yes. It's done."

For a second, he didn't react. Just stood there, processing. Then he exhaled sharply, like he'd been holding his breath for hours.

"Thank you," he said. And then again, slower, heavier.

"Thank you, Aayat. Seriously. Thank you."

I shrugged lightly, trying to keep it casual. "They're alive. That's what matters."

"No," he said immediately. "Don't downplay this. You didn't just save them. You walked straight into his trap knowing exactly what it would cost you."

I looked away. "It's just a company."

He gave a short, disbelieving laugh. "You built that 'just a company' from nothing. And you gave it up like it was... paperwork."

Then, softer: "Thank you. For trusting me with the rest."

The word trust sat between us, heavier than anything else.

I changed the subject, like I always do. "So. Are you done staring at me like I just came back from war?"

He blinked, then smirked faintly. "Maybe. Depends. Are you going to collapse or should we eat first?"

I raised an eyebrow. "You're asking me out to dinner?"

"In our own house," he said. "Relax. Contract-safe."

I smiled despite myself. "Fine. But you're ordering. I'm too tired to think."

We ended up sitting at the dining table with takeout boxes between us, nothing fancy, just comfort food.

For the first time all day, it felt... normal.

Mihir leaned back in his chair. "So. The great Aayat Raghuvanshi signs away an empire and still chooses butter paneer masala."

"Trauma makes you crave carbs," I said dryly.

He chuckled. "Noted. I'll remember that for future hostage situations."

I looked at him. "You're really bad at serious moments."

"You're really bad at letting people worry about you."

Fair.

We ate in comfortable silence for a while. Not awkward. Not tense. Just... two people pretending life wasn't on fire outside.

Then he said, casually, "You know, most people would've cried after today."

I smirked. "Most people aren't emotionally constipated."

He laughed properly at that. "That's the first time I've seen you use that word."

"Don't get used to it."

He studied me for a second, then said quietly, "Still... thanks. One last time. I don't think I'll ever be able to repay what you did today."

I met his eyes. "You already are."

"How?"

"By not letting it be for nothing."

That made him nod.

No dramatic promises. No romantic lines. yet slowly acting like something more human than a deal.

For one evening, at least, the war paused.

And that was enough.

I took another bite, not even looking at him.

"You're terrible at making jokes. Terrible human."

He didn't even blink. Just sipped his water.

"When did I make a joke, witch?"

I finally looked up. "You exist. That's the joke."

He scoffed. "Bold words from someone who sold her company today."

"Careful," I said calmly. "I can still sell you next."

He paused. "To whom?"

"Highest bidder. Probably someone with a personality."

He leaned back, completely unfazed. "So basically, you're saying you regret marrying me."

"I regret not negotiating better food in the contract."

He glanced at the table. "This is five-star catering."

"And yet I'm still starving. Tragic."

He shook his head. "You've been impossible since day one."

"And you've been boring since birth."

A beat.

Then, softer, without the edge

"But you're alive," he added.

I looked at him. Just for a second.

"So are you," I said. "Unfortunately."

He smirked. "That's the nicest thing you've said all day."

And just like that, it felt familiar again.

I poked at the food like it had personally offended me.

"The food is not so good, Mihir. You don't know how to order."

He shrugged.

"I wasn't there to cook."

I glanced at him slowly.

"Yeah. That's the problem."

He frowned. "How is that a problem?"

"If you were there, at least I'd know who to blame properly," I said. "Now I'm just suffering anonymously."

He exhaled through his nose. "So this is still my fault."

"Obviously," I said. "You approved the existence of this meal."

He leaned back. "I run a state. I think I can handle dinner."

I took another bite. Regretted it instantly.

"This dal tastes like it has trust issues," I muttered. "Even my worst hostel food had more personality."

He actually looked offended. "It's from a five-star kitchen."

"That explains it," I said. "They forgot salt in exchange for aesthetics."

He shook his head. "You're impossible."

"And you're terrible at logistics," I replied calmly. "You manage riots better than menus."

For a moment, we just sat there , arguing over food like nothing else existed.

No contracts.

No Dev.

No deals.

Just us, pretending this was the only problem in the world.

I kept eating anyway. Out of spite. Out of hunger. Out of the general need to feel something that wasn't stress.

I pointed at a piece of paneer.

"This looks like it's been through an identity crisis."

Mihir glanced at my plate. "It's paneer."

"No," I said seriously. "It was paneer. Now it's a regret."

He sighed. "You're eating it."

"I'm emotionally supporting it in its final moments."

He stared at me. "You need help."

I took another bite. "You need taste buds."

Silence for a second.

Then I looked at him, really looked at him, sitting there all calm, all controlled, like the world didn't scream at him daily.

"How does the public even handle you?" I asked suddenly.

He frowned. "Handle me how?"

"Your face," I said. "Your tone. Your permanent 'I know better than you' energy."

"That's called confidence."

"That's called insane," I corrected. "You walk around like rules are optional and people are NPCs."

He smirked. "They elected me."

"Mass delusion," I said instantly. "Collective hallucination."

He laughed. "You're saying the entire state is wrong?"

"I'm saying they haven't had dinner with you."

He leaned forward. "And you have?"

"Unfortunately. Repeatedly."

Another bite. Worse this time.

I shook my head. "Seriously though. Why are you like this? So calm. So... unbothered."

He paused. Thought for a moment.

"Because if I react to everything," he said quietly, "I won't survive a week."

I didn't expect that answer.

I poked my food again. "So you're not insane."

He raised an eyebrow. "Disappointed?"

"A little," I admitted. "I was hoping for a tragic villain backstory."

He smirked. "Sorry to ruin it."

I looked at him, then said lightly, "Still. You're exhausting."

He replied immediately, "And you're emotionally violent."

"Fair," I said. "But at least I'm honest about it."

He watched me for a second, then said, "You ask a lot of questions for someone who pretends not to care."

I shrugged. "Curiosity. Boredom. Trauma. Pick one."

He smiled faintly. "You're terrible at small talk."

"I don't do small," I said. "Only disasters."

He leaned back, amused.

"Good. Then we're perfectly matched."

I rolled my eyes.

"Don't get ideas. This is still a terrible arrangement."

He looked at the table, the food, the quiet house.

"Yeah," he said. "Terrible."

But neither of us moved to leave.

Eventually, the food was abandoned. Not finished. Just... emotionally rejected.

Mihir stood up, stretching his shoulders. "It's late."

I checked the time. Too late to pretend I wasn't exhausted.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm done being functional for today."

We walked toward the hallway in silence, not awkward, just tired.

At the bedroom door, he stopped automatically.

"You take the bed," he said, like it wasn't even a question.

I raised an eyebrow. "Obviously."

He gave me a look. "You didn't even hesitate."

"I signed away a company today," I replied. "If I don't get a mattress, I'll sue the universe."

He exhaled a small laugh. "I'll take the couch."

"Try not to resign in your sleep," I said. "The sofa can't handle that kind of responsibility."

He smirked. "You're worried about me?"

"Don't flatter yourself. I'm worried about the furniture."

I went into the room, kicked off my shoes, collapsed on the bed without ceremony.

The ceiling felt too quiet.

For a moment, I just lay there, staring, letting the weight of the day finally sink into my bones.

From the doorway, Mihir's voice came casually:

"Lock the door?"

I glanced at him. "Why? You afraid I'll escape?"

"More like afraid you'll order more food."

I rolled my eyes. "Goodnight, CM."

He nodded once. "Goodnight, witch."

The door closed softly.

I turned to my side, pulling the blanket up.

No chaos.

even if we were pretending not to need each other.

It was 2 a.m. when the doorbell started ringing.

Not once.

Not twice.

Like someone was personally offended by our existence.

I opened my eyes, disoriented, stared at the ceiling for a second, then at the time on my phone.

2:03 a.m.

Of course.

I sat up and listened.

Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.

I sighed and looked toward the couch.

Mihir was asleep like a man who had successfully retired from consciousness. One arm hanging off the sofa, phone on his chest, face completely relaxed.

This man runs a state.

But cannot hear a doorbell threatening to file a complaint.

I got up, walked to him, and nudged his shoulder.

Nothing.

I nudged harder. "Mihir."

No response.

The doorbell rang again. Longer this time.

I leaned down, right near his ear.

"Your house is being attacked."

He shifted slightly. "Mm... cabinet meeting..."

Unbelievable.

I poked his cheek. Hard.

He groaned. "What?"

"The doorbell is ringing," I said flatly.

He frowned, eyes still closed. "So?"

"So wake up," I said. "Unless you've outsourced emergencies to me as well."

He finally opened one eye. "It's 2 a.m."

"Yes," I said. "And someone is emotionally committed to our door."

Another aggressive ring echoed.

He sighed, sat up slowly, hair a complete disaster.

"You heard it too?" he asked.

I stared at him. "No, I imagined it. I woke you for entertainment."

He rubbed his face. "Fine. We should check."

I crossed my arms. "Congratulations. You've joined the investigation."

We both walked toward the door ,me fully awake, him still half in another dimension, while the bell rang again like it was keeping score.

I was officially disappointed.

Not annoyed. Not irritated.

Disappointed.

Because if someone was ringing a doorbell like that at 2 a.m., it usually meant one of two things:

    1.    Emergency.

    2.    Someone was about to die.

And Mihir Raghuvanshi was walking like he was on a midnight stroll in a park.

He yawned. Actually yawned.

"You know," he said lazily, "if it's bad news, I'd prefer to receive it after proper sleep"

I stopped.

Went straight to the kitchen.

Picked up the nearest jug of water.

Didn't even warn him.

Just threw it.

All of it.

Direct hit.

Mihir froze for exactly half a second.

Then

"What the HELL—"

He jumped back, soaked, hair dripping, shirt clinging, staring at me like I'd committed a war crime.

"Are you insane?!" he shouted.

I crossed my arms calmly. "You were in power-saving mode."

He looked down at himself. "You could've just shaken me!"

"I tried," I said. "You negotiated with your dreams."

The doorbell rang again.

Long. Aggressive.

He wiped his face, suddenly fully awake now.

"...Okay. I'm awake. I'm awake."

I pointed at the door. "Good. Because whoever's outside is clearly not leaving."

He ran a hand through his wet hair. "If this is a prank, I'm banning doorbells."

"If this is an emergency," I said coldly, "you're already late."

The bell rang again, even louder.

And this time, neither of us laughed.

I took one step back from the door.

"Mihir, you check."

He turned slowly, still dripping water, eyebrow lifting in that irritatingly calm way.

"Are you afraid, witch?"

I glared at him. "Shut up. I'm not afraid."

Another DING DING DING cut through the air, even more impatient.

He smirked. "Sure sounds like it."

"I'm being logical," I snapped. "You're the one with security, power, and an entire state's enemies. Statistically, you should go first."

He folded his arms. "So if someone shoots, I take the bullet?"

"Yes," I said immediately. "That's literally your job description."

He stared at me. "You're unbelievable."

"And you're still not opening the door," I replied.

The bell rang again, this time someone actually knocking along with it.

Hard.

Mihir finally stepped in front of me. "If this is a ghost, I'm blaming you."

"Why me?"

"Because you threw water on me. That's how horror movies start."

He reached for the handle.

Paused.

Looked back at me. "If I die, delete my browser history."

"Open the door before I push you through it," I said.

He muttered something about witches and terrible humans, then slowly unlocked the door...

Mihir turned the handle.

The door opened.

And for a second, my brain refused to process what I was seeing.

Naina stood there.

Not just injured , drenched in blood. From head to toe. Like she had walked out of a nightmare and into our house by mistake.

And in her arms

Advit.

Unconscious. Limp. His head resting against her shoulder, his body barely holding itself up.

Mihir froze.

Actually froze.

Like his body forgot how to function.

"Naina..." his voice cracked in a way I'd never heard before.

She didn't answer.

She just walked inside.

Pulled Advit in with her.

And then, without saying a word, she turned around and locked the door.

The click echoed through the house.

Mihir moved first.

He rushed to them, hands shaking, pulling Advit gently from her arms, lowering him onto the couch like he was made of glass.

Naina finally collapsed.

Not on the floor.

Not dramatically.

She just sank down where she stood.

Mihir dropped to his knees in front of her.

Wrapped his arms around her like he was afraid she'd disappear.

"You're here... you're here..." he kept repeating, voice breaking. "Thank God, you're here."

She didn't hug him back.

She just stared ahead, eyes empty.

I snapped out of it.

Ran to the kitchen, grabbed a glass, filled it with cold water, came back and didn't even think twice.

I splashed it on Advit's face.

Hard.

He jerked, coughing, sucking in air like he'd been underwater.

Mihir turned instantly. "Advit!"

Advit blinked, disoriented. "W-what... where am I?"

"You're safe," Mihir said immediately, gripping his shoulder. "You're in my house. You're safe."

Advit looked around slowly.

Then at Naina.

His face changed instantly.

"Naina...?"

That's when she broke.

She suddenly grabbed Mihir's shirt with both hands.

"Bhaiya..." she cried. "Bhaiya—"

Mihir pulled her into his chest. Tight. Protective. Like he used to when we were younger.

"What happened?" he whispered. "Who did this to you?"

Her words came out in pieces.

"He came... he tried... he hit Advit first—"

She looked at Advit, who was now fully awake, staring at her in shock.

"He tried to kill him," she sobbed. "But he's safe... bhaiya he's safe..."

Mihir held her face gently. "Who? Who did this?"

Her breathing turned uneven.

Her hands started shaking.

"I... I fought him..." she whispered. "I pushed... I don't remember how..."

Her voice dropped to almost nothing.

"Bhaiya... I—"

She looked up at him, eyes wide, terrified.

"I killed him."

Naina's hands were still shaking in Mihir's shirt.

Her voice came out broken, panicked.

"No... no, I didn't kill him. I hit him. I hit him so hard, I don't know if he's alive. I just... I couldn't stop..."

Mihir pulled her back slightly, holding her face, forcing her to look at him.

"Who?" he asked, his voice suddenly cold. Dangerous.

"Who did this, Naina?"

She swallowed.

Tears finally spilled.

"...Viraaj Raichand."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

AND YES TELL ME HOW WAS THE CHAPTER??????

To be continued

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