Someone commented in the last chapter 'I'll murder you in my brainð¤£' Well, You don't need to do that, here is the chapter.
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Mahir's pov-
I didn't know how much her tears would break me, but I was damn sure-I wouldn't let her shatter again. I couldn't let her face those demons, those traumas, alone again.
A storm raged inside me as I ran toward our room, my breath coming in harsh, uneven gasps. Anger and frustration burned in my veins, an untamed fury roaring beneath my skin. My pulse pounded violently, each beat a reminder that I had no time to waste. The suffocating fear clawed at my throat, a primal instinct screaming at me to reach her before it was too late.
I reached the door and grabbed the handle, twisting it with urgency-locked.
No.
No, no, no.
My hands curled into fists as dread wrapped around my spine like a vice. "SIARA!" I called, my voice sharp, commanding, desperate. "OPEN THE DOOR!"
Silence.
The air thickened, my chest tightening with the weight of a thousand worst-case scenarios. My mind raced ahead, battling against the haunting images clawing their way into my head. What if-No. I wouldn't let myself think it. My Siara-trapped, alone, drowning in the ghosts of her past while I stood helpless on the other side.
No. Not helpless. Never. Without another thought, I pulled out my gun. My grip was steady, my rage sharper than steel. I aimed at the lock.
Bang!
The deafening crack of the gunshot tore through the air, echoing like a war cry. The lock shattered, the door swinging open with a violent crash. Smoke curled from the barrel of my gun, but I had already discarded it, my entire being focused on one thing-her.
My gaze darted around the room, searching. She was there. Curled up on the floor. Silent. Shaken.
Hopefully, No visible injuries. A breath I hadn't realized I was holding escaped my lips, but my chest remained tight with unease. In two long strides, I was by her side, sinking to my knees, my hands reaching for her.
"Siara..." My voice emerged raw, barely a whisper in the chaos of my racing heart. I reached out, attempting to cradle her trembling arms in a silent promise of safety, but her shattered words cut through me like shards of glass "D-d-don't t-touch m-me please. P-please d-don't..."
This woman-who had broken down before me thrice yet never once let fear seep into her eyes-now sat before me, utterly undone. Even when she cried before, she had looked fearless, unyielding. But now? Now, she wouldn't even meet my gaze.
Her head hung low, her shoulders trembling under the crushing weight of an agony too vast to be spoken. Tears fell freely, carving silent trails down her face-each one a testament to the kind of pain that no words could ever capture.
It was as if she wanted to push me away, but her mind was shackled to that nightmare, trapped in the cruel grip of a memory so harrowing that even the instinct to move had abandoned her. She was frozen, caught between past and present.
I withdrew my hand slowly, my voice soft yet resolute, "Alright, look. I'm not touching you. No one will-just look at me." I pleaded, my eyes searching desperately for a spark of recognition. "Siara, look at me, baby, please."
But her eyes remained downcast, lost in a storm of torment. Her entire body trembled uncontrollably, as if caught in a violent tempest. Between quivering breaths, she managed to cry out, "P-Papa h-help... Papa, b-bhai, they will h-hurt me, p-please help..." Her words shattered the fragile silence, each syllable echoing with terror and despair.
In that gut-wrenching moment, I knew-no force on this earth could ever justify her suffering. This is what justice gave her? This is what she was left with? A body that trembled in fear, a voice that broke under the weight of her nightmares, a soul trapped in an endless loop of agony?
Every fiber of my being screamed in unrelenting fury. Those motherfucking bastards did this to her. They buried their sins inside her skin and left her to suffer their echoes. I wanted to tear the world apart. To dig their fucking graves and kill them again and again and again until even their ashes feared me.
I controlled my anger because right now she needed me. Lowering my voice, I gently whispered "Downstairs, they were just our circus, Siara," I murmured. "They might be absolute idiots, but they'd never-never-bear the thought of hurting you, baby."
Her lashes fluttered, her gaze lifting just slightly, but her breathing was still too shallow. I took a slow breath and continued, my voice unwavering. "Look around, Siara. This is not that place. You are not there. You are here." I let my fingers brush the floor beside me, grounding her in reality. "It's only me. Mahir. No one else. See? This is Our place. Our room."
Her eyes darted around, and for the first time, I saw it-that flicker of recognition, a thread of awareness breaking through the suffocating grip of her past.
For a moment, I thought the storm had passed. That she was here, with me. Safe.
But no. Because-her breath hitched. Her chest convulsed. A desperate gasp tore from her lips, her hands clawing at her throat. God dammit, She couldn't breathe. Panic crashed into me like a tidal wave. No. No, not again.
"I-injection," she choked out, barely able to force the words through her trembling lips.
My blood ran cold. No. Not that. Anything but that. I had consulted the doctor. That damn injection-it numbed the panic, yes, but it also wrecked her body, made her dependent on something that shouldn't control her. It wasn't the answer. It was a cage.
"Siara, breathe." I held her face between my hands, forcing her teary, frantic eyes onto mine. "Try, Siara. Listen to me." My voice hardened, "Those bastards are dead. You killed them. You won. Don't let their fucking dead souls get the satisfaction of seeing you like this. Don't let them win."
She tried. God, she tried. But her body betrayed her. Tears streaked down her face as she gasped for air, her fingers clutching onto my shirt in sheer desperation.
I yanked my phone out, unlocking it in seconds before shoving the screen into her line of sight. "Look at him," I urged, my voice a breath away from pleading. "Your Avi."
Her body stiffened. Her glossy eyes flickered downward. She saw it-the photo of Avi scowling at me, his arms crossed, looking absolutely done with my existence.
Her lips parted, and for a heartbeat, there was only silence-thick, fragile, sacred. Then, she exhaled. A shaky, uneven breath, but a breath nonetheless.
And just like that, the storm began to settle. Her trembling subsided, her gasps quieting into something softer. Her chest still rose and fell unevenly, but she was back. Back to reality.
I let out a breath of my own, the relief crashing into me so hard I nearly pulled her into me right then and there. She has had enough. Because the moment reality clicked, a sob tore through her throat as she covered her face with trembling hands. "I want him. I want my father. Why--why is he not here?"
I couldn't hold back so I hugged her tightly. And she-she didn't resist. Instead she hugged back, her grip tightened around me, "I--I can't bear it anymore."
I pulled back just enough to see her face, my thumb tracing away her tears, my voice a quiet promise. "You don't have to. I'm here."
We stayed like that. No words. Just the quiet sound of her breathing slowly finding a rhythm again. My arms remained locked around her. I didn't dare move-not when she was still holding on to me like this.
Then, I felt it. Her body had stopped trembling. Her grip on my shirt loosened slightly. I turned her face slightly, just enough to see her-asleep. Even in sleep, her face was drawn, exhaustion still carved into her features. And my mind-fuck-my mind spiraled.
How many times had she suffered through this alone? How many nights had she fought these demons with no one there to pull her back? If this was how she was now, with me here, how the hell had she survived when those bastards were still walking free?
A cold, consuming rage coiled inside me. Never again. No one-no one-would ever be allowed to even cast a shadow over her light. Not while I existed.
I carefully shifted, adjusting my hold around her, not daring to wake her from the sleep she had finally succumbed to. Slowly, I lifted her into my arms, cradling her against my chest. She barely stirred, her face pressing unconsciously against my shoulder, her fingers twitching slightly against my shirt.
I reached the bed and gently laid her down, tucking the blanket around her, making sure not even a whisper of cold could touch her. She shifted slightly, her brows furrowing before they eased again. My fingers lingered, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.
With one last lingering look, I turned. My jaw clenched, muscles coiled to deal with the masterminds behind this.
My steps were hurried, each one fueled by the unrelenting fury burning in my veins. The second I reached the hall, all eyes turned to me-guilt-ridden, waiting.
The entire family was there. Stressed. Uneasy.
And the clan? They weren't laughing now. They weren't mocking or teasing. They looked broken. Guilty.
But it wasn't enough today. They need a lesson. My vision blurred with rage as I grabbed Shivay's collar, yanking him forward with so much force his feet barely stayed on the ground. "DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU DID?" I roared, my voice shaking the walls.
His eyes were glassy, filled with something I had never seen before-regret so deep it carved itself into his face. He didn't even care that I was seconds away from punching him.
His voice wavered when he spoke "My bhabhi... is-is she okay?"
I threw him back. He stumbled, his footing faltering, and I didn't let up.
"If drowning in her past, crying for her father's help, fearing her own husband-makes her okay, then HELL YES, SHE'S OKAY!" My voice was louder this time, booming across the room.
Their flinches weren't enough. Their guilt wasn't enough. My eyes burned as I looked at each of them-at their downcast gazes, their silent tears. "You think this is a joke? You think everything is just a game to you? This happened because of those fucking masks! You dragged her back into hell!"
Dad stepped forward, his voice stern yet worried. "Mahir, relax. They didn't know their actions would lead to this."
"AND THAT'S THE DAMN PROBLEM!" I snapped. "THEY NEVER THINK!"
Dadi's voice cut through, calm yet heavy with concern. "Mahir, we're all guilty. But yelling won't change what's happened. Tell me, how is Siara?"
Mom's voice was trembling, tears glistening in her eyes. "She's okay, right?"
I exhaled sharply, my jaw clenching. I turned toward her, my voice softening just for a moment. "She's okay, Maa. She's asleep now. She had an anxiety attack, but... she's resting."
Kabir ran a hand over his face, his voice hoarse. "We messed up"
Avya's head was down, her voice barely above a whisper. "Sorry bhai"
For the first time... the entire clan was crying. And it hurt. Because I had never seen them cry like this for anyone before. They love her, truly, in the way only this ridiculous, chaotic, infuriating family could.
They weren't at fault, not really. But they needed to learn. They needed to understand that everything is not a joke. Not every moment is meant for their antics. There are lines that should never be crossed.
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Siara's pov-
I stirred, a faint rustling in the silence of the room. My eyelids fluttered, the weight of exhaustion still clinging to them. A warm glow seeped through the curtains-golden sunrays spilling across my skin, painting the morning in soft hues.
Morning. It was already morning. I shifted, pushing myself up, but the moment I did-it hit me.
The air turned heavier. My breath caught. My hand instinctively pressed against my temple as a slow, merciless wave crashed into me.
Last night. The memories weren't just returning-they slammed into me. Every fractured second, every moment of helplessness. The suffocating grip of fear. The desperate cries. My father's name on my lips, the past bleeding into the present until I couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't.
My throat felt tight, a dull ache settling in my chest. I leaned back against the headboard, my fingers pressing against my temples as I squeezed my eyes shut. A slow, breath left my lips.
When I finally opened my eyes, they landed on the bedside table-a glass of juice sitting there, untouched. But what caught my attention wasn't the drink. It was the note propped up beside it.
Of course. That lovesick man..
I frowned as I picked up the note, Unfolding it, I instantly regret reading the content inside.
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Good morning, Doctor
In the hallowed realm of our kitchenâa place where logic is optional and nonsense reigns supremeâI have, with the utmost dedication to absurdity, prepared a beverage of questionable sanity. Please drink this.
With all due respect,
Your ridiculously handsome, utterly devoted, and slightly sleep-deprived husband.
P.S. If you don't drink this, I will..um..I will complain to dadi.
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I stared at the note, blinking. What. The. Hell. This man is no less than our circus. From which college these people have studied that they are writing such notes. I donât even want to imagine what horrors heâd put on paper if he ever wrote me a love letter. Actually, scratch thatâI can imagine it, and itâs already giving me secondhand embarrassment.
Anyway I did drank the juice. Can't take the risk. Because he might actually complain to dadi.
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After freshening up, I made my way downstairs, but the moment I stepped into the hall, something felt⦠off.
No shouting. No chaos. No unnecessary arguments over stolen coffee mugs. justâsilence.
This was the Sehgal Mansion, right?
My frown deepened as I walked toward the garden. It was Sunday morning, so naturally, the entire family was gathered there. Mom and Chachi were serving tea, their expressions neutral, almost too calm. But the clan? Why the hell were they so silent?
No sarcastic quips. No pointless bickering. Not even a single dramatic complaint from Shivay. Instead, they sat there, subdued, with expressions that doesn't belong to our Circus. The usual reckless energy, the ceaseless noise, the ridiculous banter that turned mornings into war zonesâit was gone. The air was thick, heavy, suffocating with something I couldnât place. And I hated it.
And then there was him.
Mahir sat on a single chair, one leg crossed over the other, his laptop balanced on his knee. Well he looks perfectly normal.
I had never hated silence more in my entire life. It was wrong. Unnatural. Even Shivayâs usual dramatic whining would be welcome at this point.
But there was nothing.
My patience snapped so I marched straight to Shivay, planting my hands on my waist. "Poocharello, why the hell arenât you speaking?"
He looked like I had just slapped him with a brick. His eyes widened, his lips partedâand then, without a damn warning, he lunged at me, wrapping me in a bone-crushing hug.
"Sorry, Bhabhi."
What? But Why?
I barely had time to process that before Kabir came at me like a damn freight train and also crushed me into a hug. "Ice Queen, you scared us!"
Oh. Oh, for fuckâs sake.
I was exactly two seconds away from losing my damn patience whenâbecause the universe just loves to test meâmy youngest, most chaotic kid decided she must join in.
Divya launched herself at us with the enthusiasm of a dying duck "I love you the most, Bhabhi! Don't scare us like that again"
"Iâwhat happâ"
I didnât even get to finish my damn sentence before Avya and Myra apparently decided that their precious Ice-Queen needed to be squeezed like we were a pack of freaking wild animals. Actually we are.
Somewhere in this mess of tangled limbs and unnecessary emotions, I heard Avya not-so-discreetly whispering to Kabir, "Move, you overeating bulldozer."
Kabir gasped Like she had just stabbed him in broad daylight.
"Excuse me," he shot back completely offended, like a scandalized Victorian widow. "This is pure, sculpted muscle, you malnourished house lizard!"
Finally. Finally. A sarcastic insult. Alright. They were fine.
But the problem was, I was officially buried under a pile of emotionally unstable Sehgals, Still crushed between five overly dramatic idiots, I groaned, struggling for oxygen. "What is this? A Group therapy session."
No one answered. Because clearly, smothering me was more important than basic breathing rights.
Finally, Dadi decided enough was enough. She stepped forward, her voice sharp as a whip."Have you all lost your minds?! Leave her"
Instantly, like guilty schoolchildren caught red-handed, they all pulled away, grumbling under their breaths.
Before I could even ask the reason behind this mass affection disaster, they all grabbed their ears and, in perfect unison, chorused, âSorry.â
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. âI gathered that much. Now, please highlight the reason.â
Shivay stepped forward, looking like a kid about to confess to breaking a neighborâs window. âIt was our fault that you had an anxiety attack.â
I frowned. What nonsense was he sprouting now? âWho told you this? That was not your fault.â
And once again, like a well-trained orchestra, they all pointed in one direction and chorused together, âBhai.â
I blinked. Wait. That muscular buffalo told them this? How dare he? I won't leave him for this.
I turned sharply to Mahir, my jaw clenching. My glare could have set fire to the entire mansion, and this man had the audacity to look shocked, like he was some innocent victim in all of this.
Shivay, however, was not done whining. His eyes turned glassy as he pointed a dramatic finger at Mahir. âH-He almost punched me. Not just thatâhe grabbed me by the collar and lifted me so high my toes barely touched the ground!â
I was still glaring at mahir who was now enacting with his hands that he didn't do anything.
Shivay wasn't done,"Bhabhi, he even threw me away--"
Kabir, never one to let an opportunity for exaggeration pass, dramatically added, âLike a used tissue paper.â
Myra gasped, clutching her heart. âOh, the disrespect. Not even a fresh tissue paper?â
Divya shook her head. âThe audacity. The sheer brutality. But I agree because I saw it with my own eyesâ
Avya, not to be left behind, sniffled. âShivay flew, bhabhi. FLEW. I swear for a second, I thought he had unlocked a new level of levitation.â
Shivay, fully embracing it, placed a trembling hand on his chest. âBhabhi, I saw my entire life flash before my eyes. I was a baby, then a teen, thenâbam! I was airborne.â
He forgot to add the part where, in this grand cycle of existence, he was also a dead dog. Poocharello would be very disappointed.
Dadi finally stepped in, exasperated. âShut up! Or I'll hit you again with my stickâ
Kabir turned to her, face full of exaggerated pain. âDadi, your grandson was ASSAULTED.â
Divya crossed her arms. âMURDER WAS ATTEMPTED.â
Shivay threw up his hands. âI WAS BETRAYED.â
Mahir groaned, rubbing his temples. âI barely touched you!â
Shivay pointed a shaking finger at him. âTELL THAT TO MY TRAUMATIZED SPINAL CORD.â
Gasps. Multiple. Dadi tch-tched in disappointment. Mom sighed as if this was her lifeâs greatest sorrow. Even Dad rubbed his temples, possibly rethinking his decision to have children. I shook my head, You should have thought before, dad. Now it's too late.
Meanwhile, Mahir looked like he was debating whether to fight them or just walk into the ocean and never return.
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