THE END

Aryan's POV

I have a baby.

The words echoed in my head, over and over, like a haunting whisper refusing to fade. My body felt frozen, my breath caught somewhere between my ribs, and for the first time in my life, I didn't know how to move forward.

I became a father.

Inaya, the woman I searched for, the woman I lost. The woman who left me without a single word, without an explanation, without giving me a chance.

And now I knew why.

She didn't leave because she wanted to. She left because of this. Because of them. Because she was carrying my child, and she thought this world, my world, was too dangerous.

She took my baby away from all of this.

Away from me.

A sharp pain stabbed through my chest, something deeper. How could she do this to me? How could she keep this from me? Did she think I wouldn't protect them? That I wouldn't burn this whole world down just to keep them safe?

Tears blurred my vision, but I didn't wipe them away.

I had missed everything.

I had missed it all.

And now, my baby was gone. Taken.

A slow, chilling realization settled over me.

Who?

Who dared to take my child?

Roy.

That bastard.

Rage erupted inside me, shattering through my pain like glass. My hands curled into fists, nails digging into my skin until I felt the sting of my own blood. My body trembled, not in fear, not in despair, but in a fury so consuming, it turned everything inside me to fire.

Roy thinks he can touch what's mine?

He just signed his death sentence.

I didn't care what it took. I didn't care how many lives I had to destroy. I would find him. I would rip him apart, piece by piece, until he begged for the mercy I would never give.

And when I was done with him, I would bring my baby back.

With me.

I didn't waste another second.

I grabbed my phone with shaky hands and dialed the only person who could get me answers.

"Find him," I ordered the second the call connected. My voice was raw, rough, laced with barely restrained fury. "I don't care what it takes. I want to know where Roy is, who's with him, what he ate for breakfast, I want every detail. Now."

A brief pause. Then, "On it."

I ended the call and slammed my fist against the table. The pain barely registered. My thoughts were spiraling, flashing between the past and present, between what I had lost and what I had to reclaim.

My baby.

Inaya must have been terrified. Alone. Carrying my child while hiding from me and from the people who wanted to hurt us. And I, I hadn't been there. I had

cursing her for leaving, not knowing she had been protecting our child.

Guilt slithered through the cracks of my rage, but I crushed it before it could take hold. Later. I would deal with my regrets later. Right now, there was only one thing that mattered.

Getting them back.

And destroying anyone who stood in my way.

My phone buzzed.

"Got something?" I asked, already moving.

"We traced Roy's last known location-abandoned warehouse on the east side. But Aryan "

I didn't wait to hear the rest. I grabbed my gun, shoved it into the waistband of my jeans, and stormed out the door. My heartbeat was deafening, my muscles coiled so tightly I felt like I would snap.

One of us should be dead today.

And I want it to be him.

My hands tightened around the steering wheel as I sped through the empty roads. My knuckles turned white, my heart hammering so violently it hurt. Every second felt like a lifetime, every breath too heavy, too painful.

I didn't know how Inaya was handling this.

How she was surviving this nightmare, knowing our baby was in the hands of a monster.

Is my baby crying?

The thought nearly shattered me. My vision blurred for a second, but I blinked away the tears.

I pressed my foot down harder on the accelerator, the engine roaring as the car shot forward. Faster. I had to get there faster.

Soon, the warehouse came into view, standing in the middle of nowhere like a dark omen. My pulse pounded in my ears. My fingers twitched near the gun tucked at my waist.

Roy was inside.

And tonight, this would end.

I stormed inside, my men following close behind. The air was thick with dust and the stench of rusted metal. Dim lights flickered overhead, casting eerie shadows on the cracked walls.

The moment I stepped in, my rage exploded.

"ROY, YOU SICK BASTARD!" I roared.

And then, he appeared.

Calm. Smirking. As if he hadn't just turned everything upside down.

He laughed.

Laughed.

The sound of it made my blood boil. My fingers itched to pull the trigger, to end him right there. A bullet to the head, a quick, merciless death.

But no.

That would be too easy.

Roy deserved to suffer.

He made Inaya suffer.

The woman I love. The mother of my child. The one who carried my baby alone, ran away alone, fought alone because of him.

Whoever made her suffer never lived to see another day.

Just like her coach.

Just like every other bastard who dared to hurt her.

And now, it was Roy's turn.

I took a step forward, my grip tightening around my gun. My jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

"You took my child," I said, my voice dangerously low. "For that, you're going to wish you were never born."

His smirk didn't waver.

And that only fueled the storm inside me.

I had no sympathy. He deserved worse for what he had done. But I wasn't wasting another second on him.

Because my baby-my baby-was right there, waiting for me.

■

The moment my fist connected with Roy's face, I felt the satisfaction of his skin splitting under my knuckles. But it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough.

I wanted him to suffer.

For everything he did.

Roy stumbled back but recovered quickly. He wiped the blood from his mouth and smirked. That sick, twisted smirk that made my blood boil.

"You fight like a man possessed," he taunted, rolling his shoulders.

I didn't waste my breath on words. I lunged at him again, landing another blow to his ribs. He groaned, but he wasn't weak. He fought back with just as much force, dodging, punching, kicking.

The sound of our fight echoed through the empty warehouse-flesh hitting flesh.

But I refused to go down.

Every hit he landed on me, I gave back twice as hard. My body was screaming, my ribs ached, my muscles burned, but I didn't stop. I couldn't stop.

Then-

Pain exploded through my side.

Roy's fist crashed into my ribs, hard and fast, knocking the breath out of me. I barely had time to recover before he kicked me square in the chest. My feet left the ground, and I crashed onto the cold concrete with a force that made my whole body throb.

I groaned, tasting blood in my mouth. My vision blurred for a second, the pounding in my head making it hard to think.

But I forced myself up.

I had to get up.

I had to kill him.

But then-

Everything froze.

Roy reached behind him, grabbed something, and turned back to me.

And in his arms-wrapped in a soft, tiny blanket-was my baby.

My breath caught in my throat.

For a moment, I forgot the pain. I forgot the fight. I forgot everything.

Because there, right in front of me, was my child.

He was so small. So fragile. His tiny face peeked out from the blanket, his little hands curled into fists.

A lump formed in my throat. My chest clenched so tightly it hurt.

This was my baby. Mine.

I had never seen anything so perfect.

Roy rocked the baby in his arms, his smirk widening.

"You want your child, Aryan?" he sneered, his voice dripping with amusement. "Look at you. On the ground, bleeding. You really think you can take the baby back?"

Something inside me snapped.

My body shook-not with fear, not with pain, but with pure, blinding rage.

Roy had my child.

Roy touched my baby.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms so hard they might draw blood. My breaths were ragged, heavy, uneven.

I had to stand up.

I had to fight.

I had to kill him.

Because I would die before letting Roy keep my baby.

Roy kept my baby in the crib and turned back, that's when I punched him harder enough that he fell.

Because of Roy, because of everything that had happened, I hadn't been here. I hadn't been the one to hold them first. To protect them.

Then I looked at my baby.

My son. My own flesh and blood.

He looked just like me. The same nose, the same lips. His fingers, so small, so delicate, twitched slightly before curling into a fist.

A shaky breath left me as I brushed a fingertip over his tiny cheek. He stirred, and for a second, his eyes fluttered open. A sharp ache hit me straight in the heart.

"I've got you mere bacha," I whispered, my voice barely holding together.

I didn't know what kind of father I'd be. I didn't know if I'd ever be enough. But I knew one thing this little boy, my son, would never have to question if he was loved. Never.

"No one will ever take you away from me again."

A soft whimper escaped his tiny lips, and for the first time in what felt like forever, my heart didn't feel heavy.

Because my baby was in my arms.

I turned to leave, but just as I reached the door

"Stop."

Roy's voice.

Low, weak, but still filled with that same venom.

I froze for a second before slowly turning around.

He was moving.

That bastard was getting up.

His body swayed as he struggled to his feet, blood dripping from his mouth, his face barely recognizable from the beating I had given him. But his eyes those cold, soulless eyes were locked onto me.

He reached behind him, pulling out a knife.

"Where do you think you're going?" he rasped, taking a shaky step forward.

I adjusted my grip on my baby, keeping him safe in one arm while my free hand reached for my gun. My fingers wrapped around the cool metal, my body tense, my mind clear.

I didn't hesitate.

I raised my gun, aimed straight at his chest, and pulled the trigger.

The gunshot echoed through the warehouse.

Roy's body jerked as the bullet tore through him. His mouth parted, his eyes wide in shock. He staggered, his hands gripping his wound as blood poured from it.

And then, just like that he collapsed.

His body hit the ground with a dull thud, lifeless.

It was over.

For a moment, I just stood there, staring at the man who had stolen everything from me now nothing more than a corpse.

I exhaled slowly, my grip on my baby tightening.

No more threats. No more running. No more fear.

I turned away from Roy's body without another glance.

Because he was nothing now.

And I had someone far more important waiting for me.

I held my baby close and walked out, ready to finally go home to Inaya.

■

I drove as fast as I could, my hands gripping the steering wheel so tight that my knuckles turned white. The baby was in the back seat, wrapped in a soft blanket, sleeping peacefully as if nothing had happened. But everything had happened. Too much. My mind was still spinning from it all finding him, taking him back, ending Roy's life.

I pulled up nwhere I knew Inaya would be. My legs felt weak as I stepped out of the car, but I forced myself to move. I carried the baby in my arms, feeling his warmth against my chest. He was safe now. That was all that mattered.

When I saw Inaya, she looked tired, drained, almost lifeless. The moment her eyes landed on the baby, they widened, filling with tears. I dropped to my knees in front of her, carefully placing our baby in her arms.

She let out a choked sob, holding him close like she was afraid he would disappear again. I didn't blame her.

Then, without thinking, I fell at her knees. My hands gripped her dress, my head bowed down. "I'm sorry," I whispered. My voice was rough, broken. "I'm so sorry, Inaya."

She didn't say anything at first. Just silence. My heart pounded in my chest, waiting for her reaction, waiting for her to tell me I didn't deserve forgiveness. But then, she did something I didn't expect.

She pulled me into her arms.

I felt her body tremble as she held onto me. "I'm sorry too," she murmured against my shoulder. "I'm sorry for taking him away from you."

I closed my eyes, exhaling shakily. For the first time in what felt like forever, the weight pressing down on me eased, just a little.

I pulled back slightly, looking into her teary eyes. "I killed Roy," I admitted, my voice low but firm. "And I brought our baby back."

She stared at me, her breath hitching, but she didn't look away. She didn't push me away. She just held onto our child, held onto me.

And just like that, it was over. The chaos, the fear, the fight-it was done.

Now, all that was left was us.

■

After one year

Everything is fine now. The chaos, the blood, the past-I left it all behind. Or at least, that's what Inaya thinks.

Now, it's just the three of us. Me, Inaya, and Ayan.

We wake up together, eat together, live like normal people do. Inaya believes I've moved on, that I've let go of everything that once made me him.

Only they matter to me.

My wife and my baby boy.

But I haven't.

I never really could. The instincts, the mindset, the need to protect what's mine-it's all still there, buried beneath the surface. I don't act on it anymore, but it hasn't disappeared. It never will.

Because I am Aryan Raizada. And Aryan Raizada never leaves his own life behind.

But for Inaya, I am just Aryan.

And I will always be just Aryan.

I don't want Ayan to be a part of this. He's innocent, untouched by the darkness I've walked through. He deserves a normal life, a good life. One where he doesn't have to make the choices I did.

But he is my blood.

What if he wants to become like me? What if, one day, he looks at me and decides he wants to walk the same path?

I won't stop him. I'd be proud.

But Inaya... oh, she'll kill me. She'll throw both of us out before we even get a chance to explain.

I smirk to myself, imagining.

For now, I let her believe the illusion. I let her think I've changed, that I'm free from everything I once was.

But deep down, I know the truth.

Aryan Raizada can never truly leave.

I looked down at Ayan, sleeping soundly in my arms. His tiny fingers twitched slightly, his little chest rising and falling with each breath. He looked so peaceful, so pure. My cute Ayan.

I ran my fingers gently through his soft hair, pressing a light kiss to his forehead. He was safe. That's all that mattered. Carefully, I laid him down, making sure he was comfortable before stepping back.

That's when Inaya walked in.

She sat beside me. Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close. She leaned into me, resting her head against my shoulder. For a moment, there was only silence, just the sound of our breathing and the quiet night around us.

Then, she spoke.

"How many days will you keep hiding like this?"

I stiffened slightly. She knew. Of course, she did. Inaya was never someone I could fool, not completely.

I sighed, tightening my hold on her. "The Aryan you married is the real Aryan Raizada," I admitted. "You knew I wouldn't leave that behind. But I will not let you enter that again. I will protect you."

She pulled back slightly, looking up at me with those knowing eyes. And then, she smiled. A soft, understanding smile. The kind that told me she wasn't afraid, that she trusted me.

She wasn't the same Inaya I had once known. The fire, the passion it had all faded. And I knew why.

"You should start playing again." I said.

She didn't react at first, just kept looking but I knew she heard me.

"For yourself," I continued. "For your dream."

She let out a tired sigh. "Aryan, I-"

"No. No excuses, Inaya. You loved cricket. You lived for it. And now, you're just... letting it go?"

Her fingers tightened around the edge of her dress, and I saw her swallow hard.

"Ayan will look at you with so much pride, Inaya. He'll see his mother fighting for her dream, not giving up on it. He'll see the woman I fell in love with. The woman who never backed down."

Her lips trembled, and she finally turned to look at me. There were tears in her eyes, but this time, they weren't just of pain. There was something else. Something I had been waiting to see, hope.

Inaya let out a shaky breath, then glanced toward where Ayan was sleeping. "It's been so long, Aryan. What if I'm not the same player anymore?"

"Then you fight harder. You practice, you fall, you get back up. But you don't walk away."

Her lips pressed together. The fear. The doubt. But beneath it all, I could see something else, the longing.

"You owe it to yourself, Inaya. You owe it to that girl who once played with so much passion that nothing else mattered. And most of all..." I looked toward the house, my chest tightening. "You owe it to Ayan."

Her lips parted like she wanted to say something, but instead, she looked away, blinking fast.

Then, finally, she nodded again stronger this time. Determined.

I smiled.

She was coming back.

She is coming back bitches.

Be aware.

THE END

Thank you for the readers who read this story with interest. I hope you liked this short story just like other.

Do vote. Comment and let me know your review.

Thank you all

See you again