Dear Readers
First and foremost, to those who are constantly criticizing Siara and commenting shit-this book is not for you. Instead of wasting your time complaining, feel free to leave.
For those with genuine questions, rest assured that everything will unfold in the upcoming chapters. And regarding the debate about Siara's profession-let's clear this up once and for all. It was already mentioned that she was a medical student, so yes, becoming a neurosurgeon is entirely plausible.
Some say they can't connect with the story. That's perfectly fine-this book isn't meant for everyone. I'm writing because I needed to address something which clearly many people have understood, not for any external validation or gain. If that were my goal, I'd be setting targets like many others do.
To my incredible supporters-you guys are the best! Love yaaâ¤ï¸â¤ï¸
Much love,
Your Author
----------
Siara's pov-
The next evening, I had just returned from the hospital, exhausted beyond measure, only to step into the living room and instantly regret not signing up for extra shifts.
Divya launched herself at Avi like an enraged bull seeing red.
Avi, proving that his survival instincts were top-tier, let out a scream so high-pitched, even bats in a 10-mile radius probably winced. He dodged at the last second, causing Divya's slipper to fly off her foot like a rogue missile-and, in a cruel twist of fate, land directly on Shivay's face.
Avi, meanwhile, tried to escape. "I've barely been here ten minutes, and this woman is already launching her attacks! DIVYA, WAIT! LET'S TALK ABOUT THIS!" Avi pleaded, looking around desperately for an escape route. And then-he spotted me.
With the speed of a desperate man, he ran and hid behind me, clutching my shoulders as a human shield.
Divya, chasing him at full speed, was merciless."I HOPE YOUR FUTURE KIDS INHERIT YOUR BRAIN CELLS, YOU MENACE!"
Avi smirked, peeking over my shoulder. "You Pishachini, look! My sister's here! Now you can't touch me!"
Divya turned to me, her eyes immediately welling up with tears. She pointed to imaginary injuries all over her body. "Bhabhi, look at this! He hit me here... here... and here!"
I was amused by now "It's okay, don't worry I'll apply antiseptics on your fatal injuries. You would be fine"
As I dragged her away, Avi's victorious laughter echoed behind us. The others had already launched into their chaotic games, their shouts and playful taunts filling the air. I sank onto the couch beside Kavya, barely registering the game, my gaze fixed on the blur of movement before me.
How full of life they all are. Unburdened. Free.
I wished-fervently, silently-that they would always remain this way. Happy. Untouched by the kind of darkness that had once swallowed me whole. That they would never have to crawl through the wreckage of their own souls, searching for pieces too shattered to mend. As I sat there, surrounded by laughter and light, my mind was already drifting somewhere -somewhere far away, to a place far beyond reach.
Flashback - Few Years Ago
It had only been a few days since I woke up from coma. My body had not recovered yet. But the real problem wasn't physical. It was like my mind had shut down. I was trapped inside myself, numb, unfeeling. I wasn't crying. I wasn't speaking. I wasn't responding.
I should have died.
I didn't know why I hadn't.
Everything around me was a blur-people, places, voices. Nothing reached me. Nothing touched me. Nothing mattered.
And yet, in a moment of weakness, I dialed the only number I could remember. The only person I thought might not hate me.
The call connected.
"Hello, who is it?" Dadu's familiar voice came through.
I didn't cry. I wasn't even relieved. My voice sounded foreign to my own ears-empty, broken. "How are you?"
Silence.
Then, a sharp inhale, followed by a broken sob."S-Siyu beta... Doll..." His voice cracked, raw with emotion. "I-I am not good, beta. How can I be? Doll, please come back home."
His tears didn't move me. I had already drowned in more of my own. "Never"
Silence again. Then his whisper, barely audible- "At least tell me...How are you?"
I couldn't. Because what would I even say? How do you explain the kind of emptiness that does not have words? How do you describe a soul that has already withered? Would he understand? Would he be able to bear it?
I didn't think so.
Present
I blinked, snapping out of my thoughts. The past clawed at my mind, but I pushed it away.
Dadu had done everything he could for me after that. Funded my education. Made sure no one ever found me. He kept his promise.
And yet, when he was dying, he had done the one thing I had never expected. He tied me into this baseless marriage.
To Mahir Sehgal. A man who now claimed to be in love with me.
----
My thoughts came to a halt at the sound of approaching footsteps. I lifted my gaze, and there he was. Mahir.
He strode towards me, dressed in a crisp white shirt with the top buttons undone just enough to hint at the heat simmering beneath his polished exterior, a cigarette lazily dangling between his fingers, a thin wisp of smoke curling around him like a shadow. His other hand held a bouquet- well..yellow roses this time. The contrast was almost laughable. A man exuding power and danger, standing there with something as delicate as flowers.
He has lost his mind. No I have lost my mind that's why I'm noticing him. Because no sane person would look at Mahir Sehgal and see anything other than destruction wrapped in an expensive suit.
"For you." His voice was low, smooth, entirely too self-assured. And before I could respond, he answered himself with a smirk, "You like it? Of course you do."
I glanced at the roses, then at him. "Don't know about the flowers, but I'm definitely not liking the cigarette stench," I deadpanned, arms crossed. "If you want to enter our room, go take a bath somewhere."
Kabir, who had been standing behind him, let out an ungodly choked sound. I turned to see his jaw practically unhinged in shock. "H-he got these for Ice Queen?" He sputtered, then burst out laughing. "Oh my god. You should've seen this CEO buying flowers, guys. He was interrogating the florist-'Is this organically produced? Are these allergy-friendly? Will the pollen stain?' I swear, the poor lady looked one second away from quitting her job."
Mahir gave Kabir a long, unimpressed stare. Then, without breaking eye contact, he flicked his cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his shoe with a deliberate slowness. "And yet, despite all that, I still have the flowers for my wife, and you have a death wish."
Before anyone could respond, Divya marched up to Mahir, her brows furrowed in suspicion. Without warning, she reached out and poked Mahir's cheek with her finger.
"He's real." She gasped in mock surprise, as if expecting him to be an illusion.
Shivay, who had been watching with barely concealed amusement, folded his arms. "Bhabhi, I think bhai's malfunctioning. He's not acting normal. We could make good money selling him on the black market, you know."
Myra nodded sagely. "True. Some rich lady in Europe would pay top dollar for him"
Mahir ignored them, his eyes fixed on me as I stood a few steps away, arms crossed. I held his gaze, unimpressed.
"You're still not coming inside smelling like an ashtray."
His lips curled into a smirk. "Then fix it, doctor."
I narrowed my eyes. "What?"
He took a step closer, tilting his head slightly. "You're my wife, aren't you? You can fix my habits. You don't like the smell? Do something about it."
For a long moment, I said nothing, merely staring at him. Then, without a word, I shoved the bouquet into his hands with the same impassive expression and stepped away.
Behind me, Kabir burst into laughter, practically wheezing. "Oh, that's brutal. Absolutely brutal. Bhabhi, that was savage."
Mahir exhaled, watching my retreating back, then ran a hand through his hair. He looked down at the flowers, then back at his siblings, his voice laced with genuine confusion."She rejected the flowers, didn't she?"
Shivay clapped a hand on Mahir's shoulder, barely concealing his amusement. "Yes, Romeo. Our glacier doesn't like flowers. You should have known by now."
Myra smirked, arms crossed as she added, "That's why she's our Queen of Antarctica. No flowers, no warmth, no mercy. And you, my dear brother, are just a lovesick fool standing here with rejected roses."
Mahir frowned, looking utterly betrayed. "But... but they're yellow this time," he muttered as if that should have made all the difference.
----------
I sat on the bed, flipping through my medical journal, fully engrossed in the latest topics. The door creaked open, and I didn't have to look up to know who it was. The faint scent of his cologne, mixed with the fresh, crisp smell of shower gel, reached me before he spoke.
"All showered," Mahir announced, stepping inside. His damp hair dripped slightly onto his black shirt, a few rebellious strands falling over his forehead. He ran a hand through it lazily, droplets tracing slow paths down his sharp jawline.
I didn't react.
Undeterred, he walked over and sat beside me, his gaze scanning my face like he was searching for something.
"Did you eat anything today?" he asked.
I turned the page. "Forgot."
His brow lifted in clear disapproval. "I see. You forgot to eat." There was something dangerous in the way he repeated my words, as if mentally adding them to a list of Things That Siara Would Never Get Away With.
Before I could react, he stood up and held out a hand. "Come on, get up. We're eating out tonight."
I finally glanced up, giving him a blank stare. "I don't want to eat out. It's unhealthy."
Most people would have given up at this point Or at least argued. But Mahir Sehgal? He was built differently, this man had patience that could put saints to shame.
"No problem," he said smoothly, as if he had already anticipated my response. "I'll arrange for chefs to make a fully customized, perfectly healthy meal for you. You can approve the ingredients if you want, Doctor"
I narrowed my eyes. He was too prepared. Too willing to bend reality to his will. "I'm not going." I announced.
A pause. Then, a dangerous glint sparked in his dark eyes. "Are you getting up, or do I need to pick you up?"
No. He couldn't always win. Not this time. I wasn't going to let him. Not gonna happen. To prove my point, I sat down even more firmly, practically cementing myself to the mattress. He wouldn't dare.
But I had forgotten one crucial thing-Mahir always dares... oh, this insufferable man.
He just stepped forward, bent down, and-he actually picked me up. Just lifted me like I weighed nothing.
"What the hell, Mahir?!" I yelped, struggling in his arms, pushing against his shoulders, but he barely budged. His arms were locked around me like iron, holding me effortlessly against his chest. He wasn't even trying. He didn't even flinch. Didn't stagger. Didn't hesitate. Like carrying me was the easiest thing in the world.
As he walked out of the room, like he was just warming up at the gym, I kicked my legs uselessly, trying to wriggle free. "Mahir Sehgal, put me down right now!" I shouted but he was having none of it.
"Stop struggling," he said lazily, his grip tightening around me. "It won't work."
I glared up at him, my fists curling at my sides. "I swear, I would've beaten you black and blue for this-But then Dadi might think I'm committing domestic violence against you."
His smirk deepened, completely unbothered. "I think Dadi would throw a party if you hit me."
I could feel my anger bubbling to the surface, but he-kept walking as if he hadn't just abducted his own wife for a dinner.
By the time we reached the main hall, the scene was nothing short of humiliating. The entire family was sitting there, of course--staring.
Mouths open. Eyes wide.
Kabir looked like he was about to pass out from shock. Divya's mouth opened-then closed. Then opened again. Then she squeaked.
Myra? Myra had collapsed onto the sofa. Hands over her face. Hyperventilating. Avya? Oh, Avya had skipped all stages of shock and gone straight to recording. Shivay, for once, was too stunned to speak. Mom and chachi were exchanging scandalized glances. And Dadi-oh, Dadi-was glaring at Mahir so hard, Like he had just personally insulted her ancestors.
Like she was seconds away from grabbing a rolling pin and chasing him around the house.
And this absolute madman?
Mahir Sehgal met her glare HEAD-ON. His grip on me firm, his presence overpowering.
But the person who shocked me the most-Dad. He was smiling. Actually smiling.
I had enough so I started Digging my nails harshly into his shoulders, I tried to make him let go. But this man was built like a rock-he didn't even flinch. His muscles flexed slightly under my nails, but instead of reacting in pain, his smirk deepened. That infuriating, all-knowing, Mahir Sehgal smirk that said-You think this is enough to make me let go?
I gritted my teeth. "Put. Me. Down."
He raised an eyebrow, completely unaffected. "Hmm? Sorry, I didn't hear that. Maybe say it without trying to kill me with your nails."
I pressed harder.
Nothing. Was he carved from marble?!
Before I could unleash another round of threats, Shivay, who had finally recovered from his speechlessness, opened his mouth-
But I was faster. "If you say a single word, Poocharello, you will die again. And this time, with my hands."
That shut him up.
Mahir, unaffected by the chaos, stepped forward, his voice loud and clear as he declared,"I'm taking my wife out for dinner."
In front of the whole family.
By the time we reached the parking lot, my patience was beyond destroyed. I had scratched his whole back with enough force to leave marks.
And yet-this stubborn, impossible man still refused to let go.
Once we neared the car, I thought-Finally. Now he'll put me down. But why would he? Instead, his grip on my waist tightened. Firm. Possessive. Unrelenting.
I barely had time to react before I realized something-our faces were inches apart. Too close. His breath was warm, fanning over my cheek.
His scent was fresh, clean-the faintest trace of his cologne lingering in the air. We were breathing the same air by now, the space between us almost nonexistent.
My pulse roared in my ears, and I had definitely lost my mind because before I could stop myself, the words just slipped out-"You don't smell of cigarettes anymore."
His lips curled. Not into his usual smirk. Not into something teasing. But into a soft, knowing smile.
He simply said "Hold on tight."
That was the only warning I got before he effortlessly opened the car door-using just one hand while still holding me with the other. Like I weighed nothing. Like I wasn't struggling, wasn't furious, wasn't digging my nails into him with all my strength. Good. At least all those hours in the gym were finally useful for something-because if he had dropped me, I would have made sure to scratch his face next.
I barely had time to register it before he was lowering me onto the seat, his arms never faltering, his movements careful-gentle.
And I-I just sat there like an absolute fool. Staring at him. Blinking. Still too caught up in what I had just said without even thinking properly.
I didn't even realize when he leaned in-When he took the seatbelt and buckled it for me. Our faces were close again.
His fingers brushed against my skin, his touch fleeting, unintentional-but enough to make something in my stomach tighten.
Damn I should have said something snarky instead of sitting here like an idiot.
His touch was gone just as quickly as it had come. He, as if nothing had happened, pulled back, retreating with that infuriating ease.
He walked around the car, slid into the driver's seat, and settled in-completely unaffected, completely composed.
And I-well I sat there like a failed warrior.
_______