Chapter 19
"MAMU... MAMUUUUU!" Siya squealed, jumping forward and wrapping her arms around Akash’s knees. Akash slowly lifted his gaze and met Shaurya’s eyes—cold, still, and unreadable. Shaurya stood frozen, his hand hovering over Siya’s cereal bowl, unmoving.
Dread flickered across Akash’s face. One look at Shaurya was enough—he knew.
He had understood everything. It wasn’t difficult; Siya was a mirror image of him.
The only reason Shaurya hadn’t realized it earlier was because his mind had never gone in that direction.
But now, there was no escaping the truth.
And Akash knew—this was the biggest shock his sister’s ex-husband could ever receive.
Shaurya’s thoughts spiraled. The first time he had seen Siya dancing, his eyes had refused to move away from her.
Something about her had struck him deeply.
When she told him her name, it had felt like he had found a piece of Akansha in her.
He had often thought that if he hadn’t ruined everything, he and Akansha might have had a daughter of her age.
Every time he noticed the similarities, he had wished for a child like her—never once imagining she was his.
The recent incident hit him next. It was Siya who had called him from Akansha’s phone.
And Akansha had lied—just to keep him from finding out.
So this was why Akash had made that deal of three meetings, even when Akansha couldn’t stand his presence.
In return, Akash had asked him not to run a background check on her—and he, like a fool, had agreed.
He had been so afraid she would disappear again that he had accepted every condition without thinking.
Anger surged through him—at himself, at his own blindness.
Then another realization struck him. Mr. Goyal had once said Siya was fatherless.
He had assumed her father was dead. Had he assumed it, or had he chosen to believe it?
Did Akansha tell the world that Siya’s father was dead?
No... she couldn’t be that cruel. But then—had he ever given her a choice?
His chest tightened painfully as the weight of her possible suffering crashed into him.
What had she endured all these years? What had he done to her?
Everything began to fall into place. Akansha refusing to let Siya participate in the annual day—was it because of him?
She hadn’t wanted even his shadow to fall on her daughter.
No—their daughter. The truth finally settled in with brutal clarity.
Siya was his. His blood. How had he not seen it before?
She was like him in every way—her stubbornness, her quiet patience, the way she spoke, even the way she fell sick when she missed someone deeply. Just like him.
Why hadn’t Akansha told him? She had been pregnant when she left.
How had she survived alone? Why didn’t she come to him?
The realization of everything he had missed crushed him—his daughter’s birth, his wife’s pregnancy, her first word, her first step.
.. every single moment. Worse than that, Akansha had chosen to keep him away from his own child.
Yes, he had hurt her—broken her trust, shattered her heart.
That was his sin as a husband. But why punish the father in him? How could she do that? How? Why?
He had never given her a reason to doubt him as a father.
He loved children—she knew that. Then why?
The questions tore through him, each one sharper than the last. He wanted to scream, to break, to demand answers.
And then another thought struck him—if Siya hadn’t performed that day, if he hadn’t attended the function, he would have never met his own daughter. The thought alone was suffocating.
His eyes burned—rage, pain, and something else rising all at once.
Overwhelming, undeniable happiness. His daughter.
His Siya. Siyakriti. His wife had named her "Siyakriti" despite everything she had endured because of his sister. Damn that woman and her heart... He didn’t know whether to be upset with her—which he had no right to—or to fall at her feet for all the suffering he had caused her.
He was pulled out of his frozen state by his little friend’s screams—no, his daughter.
.. Siya. He rushed to her, gathering her tightly into his arms as tears streamed down his face.
She didn’t understand what was happening.
One moment, she had been complaining about how her uncle hadn’t visited her when she was sick, and the next, she was in her favorite friend’s arms.
'But why was he holding her so tightly?' the little girl wondered
Akash fisted his palms, struggling to stop himself from pulling his niece away from Shaurya’s arms. His sister’s suffering flashed before his eyes—how he had found her, how he had found Siya, and the circumstances they had been in.
Shaurya Singh Shekhawat was the reason behind all of it.
He didn’t deserve to be near Siya—let alone be called her father.
Akash wanted to snatch Siya away and take her far from him, but Shaurya’s tears stopped him.
The way Shaurya held Siya—tightening his grip as if she would vanish if he let go—froze him.
The fear in his eyes, his trembling throat, his rigid posture.
.. none of it belonged to the ruthless man who had hurt his sister.
In front of him stood a tormented father, who had just learned about his daughter nearly five years too late.
Akash forced himself to stay calm. He had to think.
He knew his sister would never accept Shaurya back—not in her life, not in Siya’s.
She didn’t even want his shadow near her child.
And Akash had made a silent vow—he would protect his sister at any cost. Even if it meant going against the man he once idolized, respected, and worked for.
Even if it cost him his career, everything he had built.
But for that, he had to stay composed.
Shaurya was not a man to underestimate. One hint of suspicion, and he would tear through everything to get what he wanted. And Akash knew—Shaurya Singh Shekhawat would stop at nothing to claim his wife and daughter.
"Uncuul... what happened? Ale you clying?(Are you crying?)" Siya asked, trying to pull away slightly, disturbed by his uneven breaths and soft sniffles.
That one word—Uncle—cut through Shaurya.
Not uncle... I’m your Papa, jaan...
The words rose to his lips—but he swallowed them.
He wiped his tears and loosened his hold slightly.
"No... I’m not, Siya bache," he said, forcing a smile.
His eyes filled again, this time with overwhelming affection.
His daughter... his little one. He wanted to hold her forever, to never let her go.
Somewhere deep within, a fleeting image formed—him, Akansha, and Siya.
.. together, like a family. The thought alone filled him with a strange, aching happiness.
"Uncuul... this is my MAMU..." Siya began introducing them, but Shaurya gently interrupted.
"Siya bache... we’re friends, right?" he asked.
She nodded eagerly.
"Then why don’t you call me by my name? Friends do that. If you call me ‘uncle,’ it doesn’t feel right... and we are best friends, right?" he said softly.
Siya tapped her forehead as if thinking hard, then broke into a wide smile. "Okay!" she chirped, hugging him tightly. She already knew his name.
"Sholya...(Shaurya)," she called happily.
Akash, who had remained silent till now, stepped in immediately.
"Siyu... he is much older than you. You shouldn’t call him by his name. It won’t look nice if someone hears it. Call him ‘uncle’ like before," he said firmly.
He knew exactly why Shaurya had said that. He couldn’t bear hearing his own daughter call him an outsider.
And Akash didn’t want to ease that pain.
Shaurya’s eyes flashed with anger.
Akash instinctively stiffened.
Shaurya rarely lost his temper—but when he did, it was dangerous. And right now, Akash stood at the center of it—for more than one reason. For hiding the truth. For standing in his way. For everything.
"But Mamu... Mumma says fliendchip(friendship) doesn’t have age, and Sholya is my fliend..." Siya argued innocently. Then suddenly she frowned, hitting her head lightly. "Opho... I folgot to in...intlo..."
"Introduce," both men said together.
"Yech... inloduch you...(Yes... introduce you)," she corrected herself proudly.
Shaurya couldn’t help but smile at her innocence. A sharp ache followed instantly—he had missed all of this. Every moment.
"Sholya... he is my MAMU..." she said.
"Yes, I know him. Remember I told you about Mr. Dikshit?" Shaurya replied.
"Ohhh... thatchwhy(That’s why)... Dikchit(Dikshit)... Mamu is Dikchit... I also Dikchit... Siyakliti Dikchit(Siyakriti Dixit)... my name!" she announced proudly, clinging to Akash’s leg.
A flicker of pain crossed Shaurya’s face at her name.
'It’s Siyakriti Akansha Shaurya Singh Shekhawat, bache...
And I’ll make sure the world—and you—know it soon' Shaurya promised himself
"So, you have already finalized our daughter’s name.
.. What if it’s a son?" Akansha asked, caressing his bare back.
He caught her palm, brought it to his lips, and placed a gentle kiss on it.
They had spoken about it before—he had proposed the name "Siya," while she had suggested "Siyakriti," and from that moment, Shaurya had fallen in love with that name for his daughter.
"You are tired, so don’t provoke me... and if it’s a son, we’ll name him ‘Siyakriti ka bhai (Siyakriti’s brother)’ and then continue our process to produce ‘Siya’," Shaurya said, earning a slap on his chest.
"Shut up... I’m serious. What would you name him if it’s a son?" Akansha asked.
"He doesn’t need any other identity... he is his sister’s brother," Shaurya teased again, but her glare immediately shut him up.