85. Unexpected Turn of Events

Thank you for waiting.

♡

The sun was already high in the sky when the Raghuwanshi mansion slowly emptied.

The men left for the office one by one, and Ishika and Divya went to the temple with Geeta and Rukmini.

Ishwar and Shravan had their own work to attend to. Amidst all this, Mahima and Mahira were still in deep sleep.

No one had the heart to wake them up, knowing how exhausted they must have been from the previous night’s madness.

The house was unusually quiet, filled only with the occasional rustling of the wind through the open windows.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Ananya stood in front of the towering Raghuwanshi office, gripping the strap of her purse tightly.

Her heart thudded against her ribs as she stared at the entrance, debating whether she should really go inside.

She had been pacing back and forth for the past ten minutes, ignoring the confused glances from the security guards.

This is stupid. Why am I even here? she scolded herself internally.

Yet, despite the internal war raging in her mind, her feet eventually moved forward, taking her into the grand lobby of the Raghuwanshi empire.

The receptionist greeted her politely, but Ananya barely acknowledged it as she headed straight for the elevator.

Her fingers hesitated over the button for the top floor, where Aditya's office was.

The memories of last night flashed in her mind—the way he had pulled her close, his teasing smirk, the warmth of his body against hers.

She shook her head furiously.

No. I’m not here for that. I just want answers.

With newfound determination, she pressed the button, and the elevator doors closed.

The ride up felt like an eternity. She mentally rehearsed what she would say, how she would question him without sounding flustered.

But the moment the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, all her preparation crumbled.

Her hand hovered over the office door handle, unsure if she should just turn back.

Before she could make a decision, the door suddenly swung open.

She gasped, stumbling back slightly, only to find Aditya standing in the doorway, leaning lazily against the frame with one hand. His sharp eyes bore into hers, amusement dancing in their depths.

“You were taking too long,” he said, smirking. “Figured I’d help you out.”

Ananya's breath hitched, her cheeks heating up. “I—I was just about to knock!” she lied.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing her. “Sure you were.”

Not wanting to argue, she quickly stepped inside, walking past him.

However, since he was much taller than her, she easily fit under his arm without having to duck even a little.

Aditya let out a deep chuckle. “Damn, you really are tiny.”

She turned around and glared at him. “I am not tiny!”

“You just walked under my arm like a little kid,” he pointed out, shutting the door behind them.

She huffed in frustration but chose to ignore his teasing, instead walking up to his desk.

Aditya followed behind her, settling into his chair with a relaxed posture, watching her with keen interest.

“So?” he asked, tapping his fingers on the armrest. “What brings you here, Mrs. Raghuwanshi?”

Ananya stiffened at the way he emphasized her last name. It wasn’t the first time he had called her that, but today, it felt… different.

She crossed her arms. “I came to ask you something.”

Aditya gestured lazily. “Go ahead.”

She inhaled deeply. “Why did you say that flirt line yesterday?”

Aditya blinked, then smirked. “Ah. That.”

“Yes, that,” she pressed. “It was unnecessary.”

He leaned back, tilting his head. “It was a dare, remember?”

“You could’ve said something else,” she argued.

His smirk widened. “Why? Did it bother you?”

Ananya faltered for a second before quickly regaining her composure. “That’s not the point.”

“Hmm.” He watched her closely, the amusement in his eyes never fading. “Then what is the point, Kitten?”

She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, he suddenly grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward.

She gasped as she stumbled, only to find herself landing straight onto his lap.

“Adi!” she squeaked, trying to get up immediately.

His grip tightened around her waist, keeping her in place. “What happened?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement. “You were so comfortable last night.”

Ananya’s entire face turned crimson. “T-That was different!”

“Was it?” he murmured, his gaze darkening.

She felt her breath hitch as he leaned in slightly, their faces mere inches apart.

His presence was overwhelming—the warmth of his body, the scent of his cologne, the intensity in his eyes.

Ananya squirmed, but it only made his hold on her firmer.

“Relax,” he whispered, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “I don’t bite.”

“You’re so annoying,” she muttered under her breath.

Aditya chuckled, his fingers tracing light circles on her waist. “And yet, you’re here. In my office. On my lap.”

Ananya clenched her fists. “Let me go.”

“Say please.”

She turned her head to glare at him, only to realize how dangerously close their lips were. Her pulse raced.

He smirked knowingly. “Cat got your tongue?”

“I-I’m leaving,” she stammered.

Aditya finally loosened his grip, allowing her to slide off his lap. As soon as her feet touched the floor, she took a step back, trying to compose herself.

Just as she turned toward the door, his voice stopped her.

“Next time, don’t take so long to come to me.”

She paused, her heart thudding.

Without looking back, she rushed out of the office, leaving Aditya behind with a victorious smirk on his face.

Aditya watched as Ananya hurried out of his office, her face still flushed from their interaction. His smirk lingered as he leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the desk.

But as the seconds passed, the amusement in his eyes dimmed, replaced by a thoughtful expression. His gaze drifted toward the door where she had just left.

Ananya.

His wife.

A woman who carried a storm within her but masked it behind her lively nature.

He had seen glimpses of that storm—when she thought no one was watching, in the way her eyes turned distant sometimes, in the way she never spoke about her family unless forced to.

Her Mama.

Aditya’s jaw clenched as he thought about that man. From what little he had gathered, Ananya’s so-called guardian never treated her the way she deserved. The mere thought made his blood boil.

He had tolerated it long enough.

With a sharp inhale, he stood up, grabbed his car keys, and walked out of the office, his mind made up.

If Ananya’s Mama wouldn’t care for her, he would make him understand.

The drive was smooth, but Aditya’s thoughts were anything but. His fingers drummed against the steering wheel as he recalled the few instances when Ananya had mentioned her Mama. It was never with warmth. Never with love.

And that fact alone was enough to make Aditya furious.

As he reached the familiar neighborhood, he parked his car outside the house. Just as he stepped out, something—or rather, someone—caught his eye.

A few feet away, standing near the house next door, was Aaryansh.

Aditya’s eyebrows furrowed. What the hell is he doing here?

Aaryansh turned, just as surprised to see him. They stared at each other for a second before realization dawned upon them.

They had come here for the same reason.

Their wives.

Aditya's lips curled into a smirk, while Aaryansh chuckled, shaking his head.

“Well, well,” Aaryansh said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Looks like our wives have more in common than we thought.”

Aditya scoffed. “Or maybe we’re just hopelessly whipped.”

Aaryansh smirked. “You’re finally admitting it?”

Aditya rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it.

They stood there for a moment, both understanding why the other was there. It wasn’t about proving dominance.

It wasn’t about picking a fight. It was about standing up for the women they had married—the women who deserved the world.

And neither of them would let their wives face their past alone.

“Shall we?” Aaryansh asked, tilting his head toward the house.

Aditya cracked his knuckles. “Oh, we shall.”

With that, they walked toward their respective doors, ready to face whatever awaited them inside.

♡

Aditya knocked firmly on the door, stepping back as he waited. The door creaked open, revealing Raghav.

His face was lined with age, his eyes dull, as if weighed down by an invisible burden. The moment he saw Aditya, his expression darkened slightly.

“Why are you here?” Raghav’s voice was flat, guarded.

Aditya held his gaze. “I wanted to talk.”

Raghav scoffed, already moving to close the door, but Aditya placed a firm hand against it. “It’s about Ananya.”

Raghav stiffened. His jaw clenched, his grip on the door tightening. “I don’t want to talk about her.”

Aditya studied him. “Why?”

Raghav turned away slightly. “Because it’s easier that way.”

Aditya exhaled, stepping inside uninvited. Sujita appeared from the hallway, her brows knitting together as she saw them. “Aditya?”

He gave her a small nod before turning back to Raghav. “Ignoring her won’t erase the past. You loved her once, didn’t you?”

Raghav’s fists clenched. “I never stopped.”

“Then why haven’t you even looked at her?” Aditya’s voice was quiet but firm.

Raghav swallowed hard, his eyes darkening. “Because if I do… I’ll break.” His voice cracked, raw emotion bleeding through.

“I lost my sister. The only person in this world I loved more than my own life. And then… I lost my happiness too.”

Aditya’s jaw tightened. He had expected some resistance, maybe even guilt, but he hadn’t expected this depth of pain.

“I failed her,” Raghav continued, voice barely above a whisper.

“I should have been there. I should have held her close, protected her from everything. But instead, I let grief swallow me whole. And by the time I realized, she was gone, married to you, unwillingly by me.”

Sujita’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “She never blamed you, Raghav.”

Raghav laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “She should have.”

Aditya sighed. “She didn’t.”

Raghav finally looked at him. “How do you know that?”

“Because she still loves you.”

Raghav inhaled sharply, as if the words physically hit him.

Aditya continued, his voice steady. “Ananya… she never stopped loving you. She still talks about you. She still remembers the days you used to spoil her, the way you held her hand when she was scared. She grew up longing for you, hoping you’d call her back, hoping you’d tell her she still had a home.”

Sujata let out a shaky breath, and Raghav’s hands trembled. “She still…” He couldn’t even finish the sentence.

Aditya softened his tone. “She always did.” He took a step forward. “You’re not too late.”

Raghav shook his head. “I wouldn’t even know what to say to her.”

Aditya tilted his head. “Just tell her that you're still her mama. The one who loved her more than anything’”

A tear slipped down Raghav’s cheek before he quickly wiped it away. Sujita placed a comforting hand on his arm.

Aditya watched them, then said, “She won’t say it, but she’s been waiting for you. For both of you.”

Sujita swallowed hard. “We should go see her.”

Raghav hesitated, looking down. “What if she doesn’t want to see me?”

Aditya chuckled softly. “She will. But she’ll probably cry first.”

Raghav let out a watery laugh, nodding slowly. “That… sounds like her.”

Sujita squeezed his hand. “Let’s go, Raghav.”

With a deep breath, Raghav finally nodded. “Okay.”

For the first time in years, he was ready to face his niece—the girl he had once loved as a daughter, and the girl who had never stopped loving him back.

♡

Aaryansh stepped in the lawn, his sharp gaze landing on the house in front of him.

It was eerily silent, standing like a relic of the past—grand yet lifeless. He clenched his jaw, mentally preparing himself for the storm that was bound to erupt inside.

He strode forward, knocking firmly on the heavy wooden door. The minutes stretched, but he waited.

Then, the door creaked open.

Deva stood there, his sharp, scrutinizing eyes landing on Aaryansh. His expression darkened immediately.

“You.” His voice was cold, unwelcoming.

Aaryansh smirked slightly, stepping forward. “Me.”

Deva’s grip on the door tightened. “What do you want?”

“To talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“I do.” Aaryansh didn’t wait for an invitation and stepped inside, forcing Deva to either throw him out or listen. He did neither.

Inside, Vaidehi was sitting on the couch, her hands folded in her lap, stiff and silent.

She didn’t meet his gaze, but Aaryansh could tell—she had been expecting this.

The air was thick with tension as Deva sat down across from him, his expression unreadable.

Aaryansh leaned forward, his voice steady but sharp. “Why do you hate Amrita so much?”

Deva scoffed. “You already know why.”

“Do I?” Aaryansh raised an eyebrow. “Because from where I’m standing, you have no reason to hate her.”

Deva clenched his jaw. “She is a curse to this family.” His voice was raw with bitterness.

“She brought destruction with her. First, she killed my sister, then my brother-in-law. She is Shani—a bad omen in all our lives.”

Aaryansh’s fists clenched at his words. “You think she killed them?”

“She did!” Deva snapped, his eyes burning with pain. “If she hadn’t been born, my sister would still be alive. My brother-in-law wouldn’t have died. And this family—” His voice wavered. “This family wouldn’t have shattered.”

Aaryansh inhaled sharply, reigning in his own anger. “So, that’s what you’ve convinced yourself of?”

Deva didn’t answer.

Aaryansh’s voice dropped, filled with quiet fury. “Tell me something, Deva. Did my wife ask to be born?”

Silence.

“Did she ask for fate to be cruel to her?” Aaryansh pressed. “Did she ask to lose both her parents? Did she ask to be left alone with an uncle who treated her like a curse instead of a child who needed love?”

Deva’s hands trembled.

“You blame her for things beyond her control because it’s easier than accepting the truth.” Aaryansh’s voice was low, piercing.

“The truth is, you abandoned her when she needed you the most. Instead of being the family she lost, you made her feel like an orphan all over again.”

Deva looked away, his throat bobbing. Vaidehi shut her eyes, her fingers curling into her lap.

Aaryansh wasn’t done. His tone hardened. “If your brother and sister were alive today, do you think they would let you treat their daughter like this?”

Deva’s entire body stiffened.

“If they were here, they would have fought for her, protected her, loved her. But they’re not. And instead of stepping up, you let your grief turn into hatred for an innocent girl.”

Deva let out a shaky breath, his voice barely a whisper. “She… she didn’t need me.”

“She needed you more than anyone.” Aaryansh’s voice cut through the air. “And she still does. But you’re too blinded by your own pain and hate to see it.”

Deva shut his eyes tightly, his fists clenched.

Vaidehi finally spoke in a whisper, her voice shaking. “She still keeps our family photo in her room.”

Deva’s head snapped toward her, his throat bobbing.

Aaryansh stood up, his tone final. “Think about what you really want, Deva. Because the next time you see her, she might not be willing to listen anymore.”

Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving Deva with nothing but the truth and the weight of his own regrets.

♡

Mahima stirred awake, stretching her arms lazily as the morning light filtered through the curtains.

A yawn escaped her lips as she slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes. The house was eerily quiet, and for a moment, she relished the peace.

But then—

Thud!

Her heart jumped as something fell to the floor. Mahima frowned and looked down. A bag had tumbled from the bedside table.

Mahira’s bag.

Mahima blinked in confusion. She hadn’t noticed when Mahira had kept it there.

With a small sigh, she leaned forward to pick it up, but as she did, something slipped out.

Her fingers froze midair.

Photos.

Mahima’s breath hitched as she slowly picked one up, her eyes scanning the image. It was a picture of her.

From last month.

Her fingers tightened around the glossy paper as unease slithered through her.

Her gaze flickered to the other photos scattered across the floor. She hurriedly gathered them, flipping through each one.

There she was—laughing at a café, walking down a street, adjusting her dupatta at a market stall.

Mahima’s eyebrows furrowed deeply.

Why does Mahira have these?

Then her fingers stilled as she reached another photo—one from yesterday.

A fresh wave of confusion and suspicion surged through her as she studied it. It was a picture of both of them, taken during last night’s party.

Her heartbeat pounded against her ribs.

She looked at the photos again, flipping through them faster this time, her mind racing.

Why? Why did Mahira have so many pictures of her?

Her hands trembled slightly as she pressed her lips together, anger creeping into her expression.

Was Mahira watching her?

Was she following her?

Mahima clenched the photos, her suspicion growing by the second.

Just who was Mahira? And why was she keeping tabs on her?

♡

Mahira stirred awake, her body still heavy with sleep. She rubbed her eyes drowsily, her mind slow to register her surroundings. But the moment her vision cleared, her breath hitched.

A gun.

Pointed directly at her.

Her heart stopped.

Mahira’s entire body went rigid, her lips parting slightly in shock. She could hear her own heartbeat thundering in her ears as her eyes darted up—meeting Mahima’s dark, furious gaze.

“M-Mahima?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Mahima didn’t say a word. Her grip on the gun was steady, her finger resting dangerously close to the trigger. Her expression was unreadable—cold, calculating, deadly.

Mahira’s throat tightened.

Her breath came out in quick, shallow puffs as she slowly, slowly pushed herself off the bed, her legs trembling beneath her. Her entire body was shaking.

“W-Why… are you doing this?” she stammered, her glossy eyes wide with pure fear.

Mahima’s gaze sharpened. “Did Vicky send you?” she demanded, her voice like ice.

Mahira’s brows furrowed. “V-Vicky?” she repeated, utterly confused. “I—I don’t know any Vicky.”

Mahima’s jaw tightened. “Liar.”

Mahira flinched. Her entire body screamed at her to run, but she was frozen, locked in place under Mahima’s menacing stare.

“I swear, I don’t know any Vicky!” Mahira’s voice cracked, panic bubbling in her chest.

“Then why were you following me?!” Mahima barked, taking a step closer.

Mahira stumbled backward, pressing herself against the wall. Her hands trembled as she lifted them slightly, as if to plead for her life.

“I—I didn’t!” she stuttered desperately. “I d-didn’t follow you! I promise!”

Mahima’s grip on the gun tightened.

Mahira felt tears prickling in her eyes. She didn’t understand what was happening—what she did wrong—why Mahima hated her all of a sudden.

The tension in the room was suffocating.

And then—

Bang!

The door burst open.

Rishi and Aarush stood there, their expressions frozen in shock as they took in the scene before them.

Mahima holding a gun.

Mahira standing against the wall, terrified.

Rishi’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What the hell is going on?!”

Mahira’s glossy eyes immediately snapped toward him, pleading, desperate. “I-I don’t know what’s happening!” she cried.

Aarush’s face darkened. “Mahima, put the gun down.”

But Mahima didn’t budge.

Mahira felt her chest tighten, fear gripping her so tightly she could barely breathe.

♡

Mahima’s eyes were cold, burning with suspicion and anger as she suddenly threw the photos onto the floor between them.

The glossy sheets scattered across the ground, revealing glimpses of Mahima’s face, taken from last month—everywhere she went, every little moment captured.

And then, at the very top of the pile, a picture from yesterday—a photo of the two of them together.

Mahira’s breath caught in her throat.

“Explain,” Mahima’s voice was low, dangerous.

Mahira’s lips trembled. She looked down at the photos, her mind racing, her pulse pounding so hard it felt like her heart would burst.

“I—I—” she stuttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mahima took a threatening step forward, her finger twitching over the trigger.

“Explain, Mahira!” she snapped.

Mahira flinched violently, her legs feeling like they’d give out at any moment.

“I-I don’t— I didn’t— I swear, I don’t know how—” her words tumbled out, frantic, choked.

Mahima’s patience snapped.

“Spit. It.” she ordered, her voice a sharp, merciless command. “Or I swear I’ll kill you.”

Mahira’s breath hitched. She was shaking so badly that she thought her legs would collapse under her.

She wasn’t sure if Mahima was serious or not, but at that moment, she believed her.

Before she could react, someone moved.

Aarush.

He stepped in front of her, his body shielding hers entirely.

Mahira gasped softly.

Aarush spread his arms slightly, standing like an unshakable wall between Mahima and Mahira. His dark eyes locked onto Mahima’s, unwavering.

“You’re not going to kill her,” he said firmly.

Mahima’s jaw tightened. “Move,” she demanded.

“No.” Aarush’s voice was absolute.

Mahima’s grip on the gun twitched. “Aarush, I said move.”

“I won’t,” he said, his voice cold, sharp as a blade. “If you want to shoot her, you’ll have to shoot through me.”

Mahira’s breath hitched at his words.

Mahima’s eyes flashed with fury. “You don’t understand!” she shouted. “She’s been following me! Stalking me—watching me—”

“And what if she hasn’t?” Aarush countered.

Mahima’s lips pressed into a thin line.

Just then, a strong hand grabbed her wrist.

Rishi.

His grip was firm, his expression serious as he wrapped his fingers around the gun.

“Enough, Mahima,” he said sternly. “Let. It. Go.”

♡

Mahima’s grip on the gun was ironclad. Rishi tightened his hold around her wrist, his voice sharp with urgency.

“Mahima, leave it!” he demanded.

But she wouldn’t. Her fingers clenched tighter, her breathing ragged, her fury refusing to subside.

The struggle between them was growing more violent—Rishi trying to pry the weapon away while Mahima resisted with everything she had.

Aarush took a deep breath, knowing this was escalating too fast. Instead of interfering, he turned to Mahira, who was still standing frozen behind him, trembling.

She was crying. Silent tears streaked her cheeks, her hands gripping the fabric of her dress so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.

Aarush knelt slightly, his voice softer now. “Mahira… are you okay?”

She nodded. A shaky, barely-there nod, her breathing still uneven.

And then—

BAM!

A gunshot split through the air.

Aarush’s blood ran cold.

Mahira’s body jerked backward as a sharp gasp escaped her lips.

The bullet had hit her.

Right through her left shoulder.

Her feet stumbled as pain exploded through her body, and before she could hit the ground—

Aarush caught her.

His arms wrapped around her, holding her against him as he slowly lowered them both to the floor.

“Mahira?!” His voice was frantic. His heart slammed against his ribs as he looked down at her pale, pained expression.

Mahira’s breath shuddered. Silent tears rolled down her face as she struggled to breathe, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

Rishi and Mahima froze.

The gun slipped from Mahima’s hands, clattering onto the floor.

Her eyes were wide, unblinking. She couldn’t move.

She had just shot Mahira.

By mistake.

Aarush gently cradled Mahira closer, his hand pressing down on her wound to stop the bleeding.

“Mahira, stay with me,” he said, his voice strained with panic.

Mahira’s lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but she couldn’t get the words out.

Her breathing was so weak.

Aarush’s grip on her tightened. “You’ll be okay, Mahira. Just hold on.”

And then, barely a whisper—

“I… I—” Mahira tried to speak, her voice feeble.

“I am your sister…”

The room froze.

Mahima’s entire body stiffened.

Rishi’s breath caught in his throat.

Aarush felt his heart stop.

Mahima took a step back.

Then another.

And without another word—

She stormed out of the room.

Rishi blinked, snapping out of his daze. He turned, his jaw tightening as he quickly followed Mahima.

Aarush, still holding Mahira, looked down at her pale face, his mind a mess.

“Sister…?” he whispered. His throat felt dry, his mind struggling to process what had just happened.

Mahira weakly grasped onto his wrist, her fingers barely able to hold on.

Aarush swallowed the lump in his throat. “You’re going to be okay,” he whispered, voice softer, filled with an emotion he didn’t even know how to describe.

He had no idea what just happened.

But one thing was clear.

Everything had changed.

♡

Hit the star ⭐

What started as ordinary twisted into something unimaginable.