Mihir's POV

"He's very dangerous, bhaiya," Naina said, her voice barely holding together.

"He wanted papa's property. Everything that belongs to Anirudh Raghuvanshi."

My chest tightened.

"He was waiting for him," she continued. "But then he found out... that he died."

My hands curled into fists.

Because Anirudh Raghuvanshi wasn't dead.

The world believed he was.

But I knew the truth.

I was the truth.

Years ago, after everything that happened... after what he did to Maa... I made a decision that no court ever knew about.

No prison.

No trial.

No headlines.

I locked him away from the world myself.

Alive.

Erased.

I told everyone he was gone because I thought silence would protect us.

Protect Maa's dignity.

Protect Naina.

Protect Advit.

Protect what was left of this family from becoming a public spectacle.

And now

Because the world believed Anirudh Raghuvanshi was dead...

Viraaj Raichand came looking for what was his.

And when he couldn't reach him

He came for us.

For Naina.

For Advit.

They had to run because of a lie I created.

Because I thought hiding the monster would end the damage he caused.

Naina's voice cracked again.

"He said if we didn't do what he wanted... he'd kill you next."

Of course.

He couldn't reach the father.

So he hunted the children.

Advit shifted weakly beside her.

"We didn't know where else to go."

I looked at them

Covered in blood.

Shaking.

Terrified.

And all I could think was

I did this.

Not him.

Me.

"You're not running anymore," I said finally.

My voice sounded calm.

It wasn't.

Naina's fingers were still clutching my sleeve like if she let go, something would drag her back out of this house.

"He knows everything, bhaiya," she whispered. "Not just about Papa... about us. About the properties. About the trusts. About the land still under Anirudh Raghuvanshi's name."

A cold weight settled in my stomach.

That wasn't public information.

Which meant this wasn't random greed.

This was planned.

"How long?" I asked quietly.

She didn't answer immediately.

Her eyes dropped.

"...Weeks."

My head snapped up.

"Weeks?" My voice came out sharper than I intended.

"He found us after the airport," she admitted. "At first it was just messages. Then calls. Then he sent people. He said if we didn't cooperate, he'd expose everything. That Papa isn't dead. That he's still alive."

Alive.

The word echoed in my head like a gunshot.

Advit stirred slightly on the couch, his breathing uneven but stable now.

"He wanted us to sign documents," he rasped weakly. "Transfer approvals. Access permissions. He said legally everything still traces back to Anirudh Raghuvanshi. And since he's 'dead'... it's easier to manipulate succession."

Succession.

Assets.

Ownership.

This wasn't just blackmail.

This was inheritance warfare.

"And when you refused?" I asked.

Naina's lips trembled.

"He came himself tonight."

My jaw tightened.

"He said he was done asking nicely. He said if Papa couldn't give him what he wanted, then Mihir Raghuvanshi would."

Aayat shifted beside the doorway, but I didn't look at her.

I couldn't.

Because I already knew what Naina was about to say.

"He hit Advit first," she whispered. "He said this was just a preview."

Her breathing grew uneven again.

"He told me next time it would be you."

Silence filled the room.

Heavy.

Suffocating.

"So I hit him," she said suddenly, panic rising in her voice again. "I didn't think. I just grabbed whatever was there and I— I hit him. Again. And again"

Her hands started shaking violently.

"I don't know if he's alive, bhaiya. I don't know"

I pulled her into me before she could spiral further.

"You did what you had to do," I said firmly.

But my mind was already racing somewhere else.

Viraaj Raichand didn't come for money.

He came for Anirudh.

And Anirudh...

was still under me.

Hidden.

Alive.

And for years I believed locking him away would end the damage he caused.

Tonight proved otherwise.

Tonight proved monsters don't stop hurting people just because you hide them.

Sometimes

they just give someone else a reason to come looking.

And this time

He found us.

Naina's words hit me like a punch I didn't see coming.

"Bhaiya," she said, voice trembling, "do you know... when Anirudh killed Mumma... but before he could do anything to us, Mumma went to Maasi, whom he killed?"

I froze. The words refused to fully sink in. My chest tightened.

"She... she told me and Advit to stay with Maasi. Advit was just two months old," Naina continued, tears spilling freely now. "Maasi... she shifted to London because of her husband, Trakshay. You know him. Useless. Greedy. Money first. Everything."

I wanted to speak, to say something, but my throat felt locked.

"I tried calling you... every time Trakshay said no one would believe it was me," she whispered, voice breaking. "I had to be Aadhya Mittal for years... just so I could survive. Do you know how much I missed you? Missed Mumma? Everything..."

She looked at me, eyes wide, full of fear and exhaustion. "Everything was ruined... I know it was hard for you."

I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. All the years I'd spent trying to protect them, all the isolation, all the choices I'd made, they felt meaningless compared to the pain they'd endured.

And yet... she was here. Alive. Advit was alive. Somehow, against all odds, we'd survived.

I pulled her close without thinking. Not as a brother. Just... as someone who'd failed them and wanted to make it right.

"Shh... it's okay," I murmured, voice raw. "You're here now. That's what matters. I... I should've been there. I should've..."

I trailed off, guilt clawing at me. But she didn't yell. She didn't argue. She just let herself lean into me.

For the first time in years, I realized the weight of all I'd lost, and all I still had.

And for once... maybe it was enough just to hold them.

I looked at Naina, her small frame trembling, and at Advit, still half-asleep in her arms. My chest tightened.

I had kept them safe, or at least I thought I had, but seeing them now, I realized how much I had failed. How much they had suffered while I was busy being "in control."

Naina's voice shook as she told me everything, the lies, the hiding, the false identity, the years she missed me. Advit had been just a baby... two months old... and I hadn't even held him.

I wanted to take it all away. Every moment they had been scared, every tear they had cried... I wanted to erase it.

But all I could do was pull them close.

I knelt down, letting Naina rest against me, letting Advit curl into my side. I didn't speak. Didn't need to. The warmth of them, alive, breathing, safe, was enough.

I had no right to guilt them. They had survived. They had waited. And I... I would never let them feel alone again.

"I'm here," I whispered quietly. "I'm not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever."

For the first time in years, the weight on my chest eased a little. Not gone, but lighter. And with them by my side, maybe, just maybe, I could finally be the brother they deserved.

I looked at Naina, seeing the fear and relief in her eyes all at once.

"She's Aayat... my wife," I said quietly, letting the words land. "I know you already know."

Naina blinked, and before I could say anything else, she turned to Aayat.

"I'm... sorry," she whispered. "For the airport... I didn't mean"

Aayat waved her off gently. "It's okay. Really."

Aayat looked at them. "Go freshen up. I'll get the food."

I stared at her. "You're going to cook?"

She shook her head. "No. You order it. I'm terrible at cooking."

Advit smiled, Yay! Food!"

Naina smiled softly. "It's... nice to just eat without worrying."

I leaned back on the couch, watching them go. For the first time in a long while, the house felt calm.

And that was enough.

⸻

I watched Aayat move around the kitchen, her hands busy with the takeout boxes.

"You're not cooking?" I asked, tilting my head.

She didn't look up. "No. You're ordering. I trust your... judgment."

I raised an eyebrow. "You trust me? That sounds dangerous."

She smirked over her shoulder. "I said judgment, not... your taste in everything else."

I laughed. "Careful. I might start thinking that's a challenge."

"Maybe it is," she said quietly, leaning on the counter. Her eyes caught mine for a second, a spark, almost... too human.

I stepped a little closer. "And here I thought contract husbands were supposed to be boring and obedient."

Her lips twitched. "Obedient? Not me."

"Good," I said, matching her smirk. "Obedience is overrated."

She shook her head, laughing softly. "You're impossible."

"I'm your impossible," I said, low, almost teasing.

She froze for half a second, then looked back at the boxes. "Don't get used to that title," she muttered.

I moved closer, just enough for her to notice. "Oh, I already have."

Her eyes flicked up to me, sharp, amused, dangerous. "Hah. You wish."

"I do," I said, straight-faced.

She rolled her eyes but didn't hide the small smile. "You're ridiculous."

"And yet... somehow, still managing the order," I said, nodding toward my phone.

She laughed again. "Careful. You're flirting with me in front of the food. That's... distracting."

"Good," I said, grinning. "I like distractions."

She shook her head, muttering something about "contract husbands" under her breath, but I caught the way she stayed close, just a little.

I watched Aayat move around the kitchen, checking on Advit and Naina.

I stepped closer before I realized it, my hands brushing her shoulders. "Thank you," I said quietly, just above a whisper.

She froze for a second, then glanced at me, calm but a little surprised. "For...?"

"For being here. For them," I said, letting my arms wrap around her gently. Just a quick hug, enough to let her feel it, not enough to break any rules... officially.

Aayat didn't pull away. She just let me hold her for a heartbeat longer than necessary, then stepped back, clearing her throat. "You're too dramatic, Mihir Raghuvanshi."

I smirked, resting my hands on the counter. "And yet... you let me do it."

She rolled her eyes but didn't argue

Aayat led Naina and Advit to the dining table, helping them sit. They didn't eat much, still shaken from everything.

I grabbed the food delivery boxes and set them on the table. Aayat started serving quietly, making sure everyone had a little on their plate.

We all ate in silence for a while. Naina and Advit barely touched the food, but Aayat didn't push them. She just ate slowly herself, keeping an eye on them.

I picked at my own food, glancing at her occasionally. There was something calm about the way she moved, even after everything that had happened.

We finished eating quietly, the tension easing a little as the night went on.

I stood and looked at Naina and Advit. "Come on," I said softly. "Let's go talk in your rooms. We need some quiet."

Naina hesitated for a moment, then nodded, glancing at Aayat. Advit tugged her hand, looking curious but tired.

Aayat gave me a small nod, understanding. She turned and walked toward her room, quietly closing the door behind her.

I watched them settle on the couch, Naina hugging Advit close.

"Bhaiya... what was it like when we were little?" Naina asked softly, her voice almost a whisper.

I looked at her, feeling the weight of the years in her eyes. "Quiet... mostly quiet. I tried to keep you both safe."

Advit blinked up at me. "Did... did Mumma cry?"

I swallowed hard, the memory sharp. "Sometimes. She loved you both more than anything."

Naina nodded, her fingers brushing Advit's hair. "I... I wish we remembered more."

"You will," I said gently. "We'll make new memories. One step at a time."

They were quiet after that, leaning against me, safe and warm. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like maybe, just maybe, the past wouldn't hurt them anymore.

I watched Advit fidget with the edge of the blanket, still half-asleep, and couldn't help but smile.

"You know," I said quietly, "when you were just a baby... barely two months old... I used to watch you sleep for hours."

Advit blinked up at me, curious.

"You never cried much," I continued softly, "but when you did... I panicked every single time. I thought I had to fix everything for you and Naina."

Naina's hand found his, squeezing it gently.

"You didn't need to, bhaiya," she whispered. "We were okay... because you were there."

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "I just... wanted you both safe. That was all I ever wanted."

Advit leaned against me slightly, quiet now. Not saying much, just letting me be near him.

I rested my hand on his shoulder, feeling the weight of all those years. "I might have been young... but even then, you two mattered more than anything."

For a long moment, we just sat like that. No words, no questions, no explanations. Just the three of us together, Naina, Advit, and me, finally letting the quiet be enough.

I looked at Naina, already half-asleep. "Get some rest," I said softly.

She nodded and curled up.

I turned to Advit. "Come with me. I'll show you your room."

He stood slowly and followed me down the hall.

"This is your room," I said, opening the door.

Advit looked around, eyes wide. "It's nice."

I smiled. "It's all yours. Make yourself comfortable."

He nodded, taking it in quietly.

I patted his shoulder. "Rest up. Tomorrow, we start fresh."

Advit stayed inside, exploring a little, and I left him to it, feeling... a little closer than before.

I opened the door to my room and froze for a moment. Aayat was there, sitting on the floor, eyes glued to the TV.

On the screen, a man around thirty-five played a guitar, singing softly, while a little girl, maybe five or six, strummed along, trying to follow his tune. She looked so adorable.

I didn't step inside. I just watched quietly, not wanting to disturb her. She was smiling faintly, completely absorbed in the video.

For a moment, the world outside didn't exist, just her, the music, and that strange, peaceful calm.

I stayed by the door, watching her. The little girl's laughter and the man's gentle voice pulled me in, and I couldn't help but wonder, who were they?

The man looked familiar somehow... confident, calm, the way he held the guitar. And the girl, so small, so full of life, it was like watching a memory I didn't have.

I tilted my head, curiosity pulling at me. Who could they be? Was it someone Aayat knew?

She hummed along softly, completely unaware I was there, and for the first time in decades, I felt... like maybe there were pieces of life I had missed, pieces I didn't even know existed.

Aayat started singing softly, her voice floating through the room: "Pyar diwaana hota hai, mastaana hota hai...

Har khushi se har gam se begana hota hai.....

Shama kahe parawane se pare chala ja

Meri tarah jal jayega yahan nahi aa...........

Wo nahi sunta usko jal jana hota hai

Har khushi se har gam se begana hota hai

Pyar diwana hota hai mastana hota hai

Har khushi se har gam se begana hota hai"

I froze. My chest tightened. That voice... it wasn't just beautiful, it was... heavenly. I had never heard her sing like this before. Every note felt like it was made of light, delicate yet powerful, reaching straight to something I didn't know I'd been missing.

I stayed at the door, silent, afraid to interrupt, just letting the sound wash over me. She didn't notice me, completely lost in the music, her fingers tapping gently to the rhythm.

For the first time in a long time, I forgot everything else, the danger, the past, the guilt. There was only her voice, and it was... magic.

I realized then... I had never really known her. Not like this. Not the way she could make the world stop just by singing a single song.

I froze in the doorway as soon as I saw her notice me. Her eyes widened, and before I could say anything, she grabbed the remote and shut off the TV.

"Uh... I—was just..." she stammered, her face flushed.

I raised an eyebrow, trying not to smile. "Just... what?"

She fumbled, looking anywhere but at me. "Nothing. I was... watching a video."

I leaned against the doorframe, watching her. "You were singing."

Her cheeks turned even redder. "I—I wasn't really..." she trailed off, embarrassed.

I shook my head, smiling softly. "That sounded amazing. I didn't know you could sing like that."

She avoided my gaze, muttering, "It's just a silly song..."

"Not silly," I said quietly, my eyes still on her. "Heavenly, actually."

She finally looked at me, a mix of panic and amusement in her eyes, and I just couldn't stop smiling at her reaction.

I stepped a little closer, curiosity tugging at me. "Wait... the little girl in that video, was that you, Aayat?"

Her eyes went wide, and she stiffened. "W-what? No... I mean... maybe..." she stammered, clearly caught off guard.

I tilted my head, studying her. "You were... singing that young? That's... incredible."

She swallowed, fidgeting with her fingers. "I... it's just an old video. I was... very little. I didn't even think anyone would see it."

I smiled softly, awe still in my voice. "It's... beautiful. Honestly, I had no idea you could sing like that."

She looked away, cheeks pink, trying to hide her embarrassment. "Stop... you're making me sound like some prodigy or something."

"Maybe you are," I teased gently, watching her try, and fail, to hide that tiny, shy smile.

I grinned, stepping closer, unable to hold back my excitement. "You could've told me! You know I'm deleting my Spotify now, oh my godddddd, my wife"

Aayat froze, a mix of embarrassment and amusement on her face. "Mihir! Stop exaggerating!"

I laughed, shaking my head. "Exaggerating? No way! Heavenly voice, hidden talent, and you didn't tell me? That's a crime, Aayat!"

She groaned, hiding her face behind her hands, but I caught the tiny smile peeking through. "You're impossible," she muttered.

"And yet... I'm totally in awe," I said, letting my eyes linger on her. "Seriously, I can't even believe I'm married to someone who sounds like... that."

Her blush deepened, and I couldn't help but grin. "Yeah, that's right. My wife, the secret singing sensation."

I watched her hesitate, biting her lip. "Can... can you play that video again?" I asked softly, my voice almost pleading.

"No," she said firmly, shaking her head.

I stepped closer, a teasing grin forming. "Please, Aayat... if you do, I'll do whatever you say. Anything."

Her eyes widened for a second, clearly taken aback. Then, after a beat of silence, she nodded. "Fine... but just this once."

She pressed play, but it wasn't the old video. This one was different. The screen showed the same man and little girl, but this time the little girl was singing

"Abhi na jao chhod kar ke dil abhi bhara nahi."

I froze, mesmerized, as her tiny voice floated from the speakers. It was so delicate, so full of emotion.

And then I noticed it, tears glimmering in Aayat's eyes.

I didn't move. Didn't speak. I just watched her, heart tightening, realizing that the memories in this song had a weight she had carried all these years.

For once, words weren't needed. The song, the little girl, the tears, they said everything.

I stepped closer, panic rising in my chest. "Aayat... what happened? Why are you crying?"

She reached out slowly and took my hand. My mind froze. She's holding my hand... why is my heart suddenly stupid?

I felt heat creep up my neck. Stop blushing, idiot. She's crying, focus! my subconscious scolded.

"I... I miss him," she whispered, voice breaking.

"Miss... him?" I asked, heart pounding.

She nodded and pointed to the man on the screen. Relief flooded me.

"Who... who is he?" I asked gently.

"My dad," she said softly, the tears still glimmering in her eyes.

I blinked, taking in her words.

"Dev... Kapoor?" I repeated, trying to process.

She nodded, wiping her eyes quickly. "Yes. Top musician of his time... famous, everything. You probably wouldn't know... it was a long time ago."

I stared at the screen again, at the man with the guitar, and then back at her. "Your dad... he's... wow. That's... that's amazing, Aayat."

She gave a small, sad smile. "Amazing... but I barely remember him. Just pieces. And that song... it always brings it back."

I squeezed her hand gently. "Then we'll remember together. Show me everything you want to share."

She looked at me, a flicker of relief in her eyes, before nodding slowly.

I froze as she spoke, my mind struggling to keep up.

She leaned against me, her voice small and trembling. I could feel her warmth, and my brain screamed: Control, Mihir... control your freaking self. Stop blushing.

"You know... Dev Kapoor... my dad," she continued, her words heavy with memories, "we were happy. Me, Mumma, Papa, and Aarav. We went on a trip to Russia, everything was going perfectly..."

Her voice broke slightly, and I held her a little tighter, silently urging her to continue.

"And then... the accident," she whispered, eyes distant. "Dad and Aarav... they died. But... it wasn't really an accident. It was... a murder. By... Tej Kapoor." Her lips twisted with disgust. "And the worst... my mom... she was involved. Eww..."

I felt my chest tighten, a mix of anger and disbelief. I opened my mouth, unsure what to say, just holding her a little closer as if my presence could take some of the weight off her shoulders.

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my voice. "Aayat... I..."

She lifted her head slightly, tears glinting in her eyes, and whispered, "I just... I miss them, Mihir. I miss Dad. I miss Aarav."

I tightened my hold, careful not to crush her but enough to let her feel grounded. "I get it," I said softly. "I can't take back what happened... but you're not alone anymore. Not now."

Her fingers tightened around mine, and I felt a strange mix of protectiveness and helplessness wash over me. "I know," she murmured. "But... sometimes it's too much."

I nodded, my mind racing with thoughts of how cruel life had been to her. "Then we'll carry it together," I said quietly. "You don't have to bear it alone anymore. Ever."

She exhaled shakily, resting her head against my shoulder. The video still played softly on the TV, the song echoing through the room, but all I could focus on was the  figure in my arms, the woman who had survived so much, and now, finally, was letting someone be there for her.

I realized then... this was more than protecting her. It was holding her, being there for her, without judgment, without distance. Just being. And I wouldn't let her go.

wiped the tears I didn't realize I had and grinned at her.

"So... my wife is a singer now, huh? Yeahhh! Great, now I can tell everyone, 'my wife is better than Spotify.'"

Aayat blinked at me, a little confused.

"And wait, if my wife is a singer, does that make me... her backup dancer? No? Okay, fine, I'll just clap dramatically in the corner then. Very professional."

She rolled her eyes, trying not to smile.

Aayat laughed softly, shaking her head. "You're ridiculous."

"Ridiculous? Maybe. But your ridiculously proud husband? Always."

I noticed her glance flick toward the TV again. The video was still paused on her little face singing that song, and something in her expression made my chest tighten.

"Hey," I said softly, nudging her hand with mine. "It's okay. You can cry. You don't have to hide it from me. I'm here. Always."

She looked at me, a little shocked, then slowly leaned her head against my shoulder. I froze for a second, heat rising to my cheeks. Control yourself, Mihir. She's crying. Not flirting. Stop blushing.

I swallowed and cleared my throat. "Right... just... just supporting my diva here. Totally professional."

Aayat's lips curved into the tiniest smile. "Professional, huh?"

"Absolutely," I said, puffing out my chest in mock-seriousness. "Professional husband, award-winning comfort provider, certified hand-holder... you know, all the essentials."

She laughed quietly, letting herself relax. And in that moment, watching her slowly calm down, I realized maybe I could be ridiculous, playful, and still... be exactly what she needed.

Aayat yawned softly and whispered, "Good night, Mihir."

I smiled, a little awkward, and said, "Good night, Aayat."

We stayed like that, quiet and close, the TV paused forgotten, until sleep finally took us.

Morning light spilled into the room, soft and golden. I was just waking up when a sharp, impatient knocking rattled the door.

"Who...?" I muttered, sitting up.

The knocking came again, louder this time.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and swung my legs off the bed. The knocking had turned sharp and insistent.

When I opened the door, two police officers stood there, uniforms crisp, faces serious.

"Does Aayat Raghuvanshi live here?" one of them asked.

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

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

To be continued

Don't forget to VOTE and COMMENT.