CHAPTER 67! TRUTH
Vote.
?The car came to a complete halt in front of the grand entrance of the Singhania mansion.
?The low, steady hum of the engine cut off, plunging the interior into a heavy, quiet stillness. Outside, the soft glow of the estate's landscape lights filtered through the tinted glass, casting faint shadows across the dashboard.
For nearly a minute, neither of them moved. The sharp, suffocating panic that had gripped the car during the drive back had quieted down, but in its place was a heavy, lingering silence.
There was too much unspoken between them, hanging in the air like a wall.
?Aadhira was the first to break the stillness. She unbuckled her seatbelt, opened her door, and stepped out into the cool night air.
Her shoes clicked quietly against the paved driveway as she walked around to the back and opened the passenger door.
?"Ayaan," she called softly, leaning into the cool interior.
?There was no answer.
?The seven-year-old was completely out. His small body was curled against the leather seat, his head resting heavily to one side, and his fingers still loosely tangled in the corner of his favorite light blanket.
A small smudge of dried ice cream remained near his temple, a leftover from the carnival hours before.
?Before Aadhira could reach in, Aryav appeared beside her. He didn't speak. He simply reached into the car, his hands moving with careful, practiced ease as he slid one arm beneath Ayaan's knees and supported the boy's head with his other hand, lifting him smoothly out of the car seat.
?Ayaan stirred slightly against his father's chest, his small brow furrowing in his sleep. "Papa..." he mumbled, his voice thick with slumber.
?"I'm here," Aryav murmured against the boy's messy hair, his voice dropping into a tender register he reserved only for his son.
?The child instantly relaxed, his breathing returning to a deep, even rhythm as he pressed his face into the fabric of Aryav's jacket.
?Aadhira watched them from a step back, her fingers clutching her small handbag. The contrast was almost too painful to process.
Just one hours ago, she had been sitting in the passenger seat of his car, staring at Sameera's explicit text message on his phone, feeling her world tilt on its axis.
She had wondered if everything she was rebuilding with him was built on a lie.
Yet here he was, carrying their sleeping child with an absolute, instinctive protectiveness, looking like a man who cared for nothing else in the world.
?The hurt, however, remained rooted deep in her chest.
?They walked inside in silence. The main hallway of the house was quiet, lit only by low floor lamps.
Aryav carried Ayaan upstairs to his bedroom, stepping softly across the wooden floors. He laid the boy gently onto his bed, unfastened his small shoes, and pulled the covers up to his chest.
?For a long time, Aryav didn't move. He stood beside the bed, his back rigid, staring down at his sleeping son. The heavy tension in his shoulders was obvious, his jaw tight as if fighting off a rising wave of dark thoughts.
?When he finally turned around, Aadhira was waiting near the doorway. They walked down the long corridor toward the master bedroom without exchanging a single word.
The distance between them felt wider than the hallway itself.
?When the heavy wooden door of their bedroom clicked shut behind them, the silence became impossible to ignore.
?Aadhira didn't hesitate. She walked straight to the wide edge of the bed and sat down. She kept her back straight, her hands resting tightly on her knees.
Her knuckles were white from the pressure, her fingernails digging slightly into her skin to ground herself against the sudden surge of emotions.
?Aryav remained near the closed door for a moment. He reached up, unbuttoned the top two buttons of his collar, and took a slow, heavy breath.
Then, he walked over. When he sat down beside her on the mattress, he deliberately left a careful, distance between them-close enough to talk, but far enough not to push her boundaries.
?For nearly two full minutes, Aryav said nothing. He sat with his elbows resting on his knees, his eyes fixed on the patterned rug beneath their feet.
The silence dragged on, heavy and thick.
?Then, slowly, he reached out his hand toward hers.
?His fingers stopped an inch away from her skin, hovering in the air. He gave her time-time to pull away, time to fold her arms, time to fight him.
When Aadhira remained completely still, his fingers gently dropped, brushing the back of her hand with a light, tentative touch.
?Aadhira looked down at his long fingers touching hers, then slowly raised her eyes to his face.
The usual sharp, impenetrable composure he carried was entirely gone. His jaw was clenched tight, and deep shadow sat beneath his dark eyes, making him look visibly worn out.
?"Aadhira..." His voice was low, rough, and entirely devoid of its usual smooth authority.
?She didn't pull her hand back, but she didn't offer a supportive squeeze either. She kept her tone steady, though her throat felt tight. "I'm listening."
?Aryav took a slow, deep breath, his chest rising and falling heavily. "I'm going to tell you what happened," he said, his eyes meeting hers with absolute gravity. "All of it. Every single detail. And when I'm finished... you can decide what you want to do with me."
?Aadhira swallowed hard, the lump in her throat aching. She gave a single, quiet nod.
?Aryav lowered his gaze back to their hands. His thumb began a slow, rhythmic stroke across the back of her fingers-a subconscious habit he fell into whenever he was under immense stress.
?"You know Santi Chachi?" he asked softly. "The head maid?"
?Aadhira frowned slightly, trying to track the sudden change in subject. "Of course I do. She's been looking after this house for years."
?"She has a daughter," Aryav said. "Ananya."
?"I know, I've seen her once or twice," Aadhira replied, searching her memory for the girl's face. "A quiet girl. She always kept to herself in the staff quarters."
?"Yes, She was fifteen," Aryav said flatly.
?Aadhira froze. The simple statement of the girl's age seemed to hang in the quiet room, shifting the air into something icy and heavy.
?"Fifteen?" Aadhira repeated, her eyebrows drawing together.
?Aryav nodded once. Aadhira's mind raced back to the fleeting glimpses she had seen of the young girl carrying folded laundry or helping in the garden.
She had been small, thin, always stepping back against the corridor walls whenever anyone passed by. She hadn't even looked fifteen. She had looked like a young child.
?"Fifteen," Aryav said again, his voice dropping even lower.
"She used to help the staff after school whenever she could. Whenever she passed me in the hallway, she'd stop, bow her head, and call me Dada. Honestly, she was terrified of me. Most of the staff is -But she never stopped calling me that."
?A tiny, faint ghost of a smile touched his lips for a fraction of a second, only to fade completely into a dark, bitter expression.
?"Because in her young mind, she believed I protected everyone who lived under this roof," he said, his chest lifting with a harsh breath. "And I believed it too. I believed anyone who worked for my family was my responsibility to keep safe."
?He paused. His fingers tightened slightly around hers, the pressure showing his distress.
?"Until Diwali two years ago," he whispered.
?Aadhira felt a cold, sharp knot twist in her stomach. Instinctively, her fingers closed a little tighter around his. "What happened at Diwali, Aryav?"
?"Grandfather hosted the annual gala here at the estate," Aryav began, his eyes fixed blankly on the floor between them.
"Hundreds of people were in attendance. High-ranking politicians, powerful businessmen, actors... even the Police Commissioner and the Chief Minister were here with their families. Security was everywhere, but every guard was focused on the VIPs and the main entrance.
Ananya was assigned to help the catering team bring trays to the private lounges on the upper floor. That's where Rocky saw her."
?Aadhira felt a cold chill run down her spine. "Who is Rocky?"
?"The Police Commissioner's son," Aryav said, his voice dropping into a tone of dead, emotionless cold. "He decided he wanted her "
?Aadhira stared at him. The Commissioner's son was not just a wealthy youth; he was someone backed by absolute legal immunity in the city.
?"And he didn't go up there alone," Aryav added, his jaw flexing. "He called Abhi."
?Aadhira's breath caught in her chest.
"The Chief Minister's son?"
?"Yes."
?For a long moment, the bedroom was completely silent. Aadhira felt an overwhelming weight settle on her chest.
These weren't two spoiled rich boys who could be reported to the local station or dealt with through standard channels.
Their fathers were the absolute authority of the state-the law and the government itself.
?Aryav looked down at his palm covering hers.
?"They dragged her into the old east wing," he said, his voice flat and strained. "A section of the mansion that was closed off for renovations. Far away from the guests. Far away from any security cameras."
?He closed his eyes tightly. His breathing had become heavy, shallow, and uneven.
?"Aryav..." Aadhira whispered, her heart pounding against her ribs as the sickening truth hit her.
?"They assaulted her," he said clearly.
?The breath was completely pulled out of Aadhira's lungs.
Her free hand flew to her mouth, tears instantly flooding her eyes. "Oh God... she was just a child."
?"Fifteen," Aryav repeated, his voice cracking slightly on the number. "She was a fifteen-year-old child."
?He opened his eyes, staring dark-eyed at the opposite wall, his face rigid with suppression.
?"And it wasn't just the two of them," he continued, the coldness returning to his tone. "There was a third man. Rohit. My personal manager at the time. He walked down that hallway while it was happening."