The Deceit

CHAPTER 31

VISHNU

Night

I make my way through the quiet mansion, the bustling sounds of the reception now replaced by a peaceful stillness. All the guests have left, including Meher, who’d returned back to Shergill Mansion with Ayaan but promised to visit again soon. It’s nearly eleven, and Dad has summoned me to the drawing room.

Veer has been asleep for a while now, curled up with his cute sister Avika in Devika and Aksh’s room. They generously offered to let Veer stay there until Simran and I could change and settle him back in our bedroom. Once Simran freshens up, she’ll bring Veer back, while I head to see what urgent matter Dad needs to discuss that couldn’t wait until morning.

As I walk toward the drawing room, a thought crosses my mind—Raghav, Ayaan’s twin brother, was the only one missing from tonight’s party. It’s hardly surprising, given the distance he still continues to maintain from our families. Still, with our siblings married to each other—my sister Meher to his brother Ayaan—Raghav and I, despite being far from playful or overtly close, share an unspoken understanding.

He remains an enigma. A man of few words, his presence—or absence—always carries a weight that lingers long after. There’s something about him that you can’t quite put into words, as if he’s still carrying the shadows of his past and is unable to fully step into the light. His interaction with the family is always point-to-point, almost businesslike, never straying beyond what’s necessary. It’s as though he’s built a fortress around himself, impenetrable and guarded, keeping even those who care about him at arm’s length.

Who would have thought that the man who once stood shoulder to shoulder with his father, Tej Kundra, in a bitter quest for vengeance against the Shergills and the Walias, would take a 180-degree turn? But Raghav did just that. After discovering his father’s true colours, he walked away from it all, to lead a path of his own. It was a dramatic change.

He’s like a closed book, refusing to let anyone read even a single page of his story. Not Meher, not Kailash uncle, hell, not even Ayaan—despite their best efforts—have been able to unlock his story. Ayaan, who has always been a man of action, has tried time and again to bridge the gap between them, but even he admits that Raghav’s walls are almost impossible to breach. Maybe it’s because those walls aren’t just built out of mistrust or pride—they’re built out of pain, regret, and the kind of self-imposed punishment that only someone who’s truly haunted can inflict upon themselves.

He left the mafia life behind, that much is true. With Ayaan’s influence, Raghav was granted a clean slate—a fresh start on the condition that he would never return to his old ways. And Raghav has honoured that promise diligently. Since then, he’s kept a low profile, devoting himself to managing ‘RK Estate,’ the vineyard named in memory of his mother, Rukmini Kundra.

Yet, even with this new life, Raghav still remains a mystery. His visits to Mumbai have been far and few over the past eighteen months, and when he does make an appearance, it is usually at Kailash uncle’s insistence. It’s heartwarming, though, how Kailash uncle—who raised Ayaan as his own—extends the same fatherly care and guidance to Raghav. He makes it a point to visit RK Estate every couple of months, trying to make sure Raghav doesn’t drift away entirely.

But I can’t help wondering if Raghav even wants to be a part of this world. It feels like he’s resigned himself to living on the periphery, watching from a distance without ever stepping fully into the fold. Maybe he believes he doesn’t deserve to, or maybe his scars run too deep to let him try. Either way, Raghav is like a ghost—a presence you can feel but never fully grasp.

As if summoned by my thoughts, my phone buzzes with a message from the man himself— Raghav . I open it to read it.

‘Congratulations and best wishes on your wedding! Definitely didn’t see that coming. And an 11-month-old baby boy? You really like doing things out of order, don’t you? By the way, wasn’t Simran the one Meher tried setting me up with? She did say we would make a nice pair. P.S. Is something burning?’

A grin tugs at my lips. Trust Raghav to have such a distinctive way of offering his wedding wishes. Without breaking stride, I type back:

‘Simran is mine… she was mine from the very beginning. You never stood a chance. P.S. - And you need those wedding wishes way more than I do. Now that I’m off the market, you’re officially Meher’s new favourite subject. Brace yourself—your turn’s coming next. All the best.’

I hit send, knowing full well it will rile him up. His reply comes instantly—a single emoji of a raised middle finger. I chuckle, shaking my head.

That’s Raghav for you—reticent, to the point, completely unbothered.

I push my phone in my pocket and step into the drawing room, where Dad is sitting on one of the plush sofas, his posture relaxed and his face glowing with happiness from the day’s events. He gestures for me to sit, and I do, sensing this is going to be one of those serious father-son talks.

“I am so happy, Vishnu,” he begins. “The wedding, the rituals, the reception—everything went off so smoothly. Even our guests seemed quite accepting of the situation. They were particularly warm towards Simran and Veer.”

“Yes, everything was great,” I agree, then add with a slight grimace, “except for the media circus. But otherwise, things seem stable for now.”

“You handled them with remarkable poise,” Dad observes, pride evident in his tone.

“There’s no point in reacting to every piece of gossip or speculation, Dad. We can’t change what they say, but we can focus on what truly matters.”

He leans back, his fingers drumming lightly on the armrest as he observes me with quiet pride.

“You’ve slipped into the role of husband and father so naturally. It’s almost as if you’ve been preparing for it your whole life.”

I can’t help but smirk, silently acknowledging the truth in his words. The transition to being a father and Simran’s life partner has felt surprisingly natural, as if these roles were always meant for me.

“But just as you’ve taken over your family responsibilities,” he continues, his expression turning serious, “it’s time for you to take on the official responsibility of your position in the NEP party—as the party president.”

He reaches forward, sliding a bunch of papers across the coffee table towards me. “These are the necessary documents. Once you sign them, we can send them for processing, and you can fully step into your role.”

I take the papers slowly, hesitantly, a sudden scepticism creeping into my mind.

“As today is such an auspicious day,” Dad adds with a contended smile, “I thought there could be no better moment for this shubh karya.”

His words fade into the background as my mind drifts to Simran’s recent confessions—her worries about adjusting to life here, her struggle to balance work, and how Veer is having trouble adapting to all these changes. Both of them are still trying to find their footing in this new reality we’ve created.

“Vishnu?” Dad’s voice pulls me back to the present. “Is everything alright?”

I place the papers down on the table and nod.

“Yes, everything is fine, Dad.”

He glances between me and the unsigned papers, his brow furrowing slightly. “Then why aren’t you signing them?”

I take a deep breath before responding. “I need some time to do this.”

“Time?” he repeats, clearly confused. “Why do you need time? You’ve already accepted this role, haven’t you? This is what you want—to join politics and carry our legacy forward.”

“I know this is exactly what I want, Dad, and I’m not going to disappoint you or anyone,” I explain, choosing my words carefully. “It’s just that right now, my sole focus needs to be on Simran and Veer. They need me more than anything or anyone else.”

“I don’t understand,” he frowns, and I can see the faint flicker of disappointment in his eyes. “You have them with you. Simran is now your wife, and Veer has your name as his father. What else is bothering you?”

Rising from my seat, I move to sit beside him. “Only making it official isn’t enough, Dad. Simran is still trying to adapt to this new life, this family, and everything it entails. She’s doing her best, but it’s a lot for her to manage. And Veer… he’s still adjusting too. On top of that, Simran’s business in New York needs her. She has so much on her plate, and I can’t just expect her to figure it all out on her own while I dive into my political responsibilities here.”

He listens intently, though I can see the disappointment lingering.

“Dad,” I say, taking his hand in mine, “I’m not saying I won’t take up the role of party president, but I just want more time. This is solely because I want to prioritise my family—Simran and Veer—before anything or anyone. Until I see them settling in with ease and stability here, I can’t take on another responsibility this huge.”

His face dims slightly, and I’m worried if I’ve let him down.

“I’m just asking for some more time, Dad. If Simran has to go back to New York in a month, I don’t want her to be alone there. There’s already a threat to her life, and despite my team of guards being with her, I can’t let her handle everything alone. I want to be there for her—to protect her, to help her with Veer and ease the responsibility she’s carried alone all this time. I want to be her support system.”

To my relief, Dad’s expression softens. He nods slowly as he processes my words.

“I understand,” he says quietly. “This… this is exactly what makes you different from what I was back then. For me, politics was everything—it came even before my family. Politics was what I chose. But I don’t expect you to make that same choice, Vishnu. You have a heart that is purer than mine, or anyone else I know who is hungry for power. That’s what separates you from the rest and makes you so much more deserving of carrying this nation’s responsibility on your shoulders and making us proud in the coming future. I won’t do anything to change that in you.”

Relief and gratitude wash over me. That’s true. I may have inherited his political acumen, but I’ve chosen a different path—one where family comes first. And somehow, that feels like the very thing that makes me even more worthy of the legacy he’s built.

We both stand, and I pull him into a hug. For the first time in a long while, I feel the weight on my shoulders lighten, knowing I have his unwavering support.

“Thank you, Dad,” I murmur.

He pulls back, patting my shoulder.

“Just promise me one thing,” he says, his tone serious yet gentle. “When the time comes, you’ll step into this role with the same determination and integrity that you’ve shown today.”

“I promise, Dad,” I reply, knowing that I will honour that commitment when the time is right.

He pulls me into another hug, and all my worries seem to melt away. With Dad on my side, I know I can focus on giving Simran and Veer the stability they need before taking on the world.