Chapter 23
"Her father was never there for her. He didn’t deserve to know she existed.
He wasn’t there to cut the umbilical cord…
he wasn’t there to hear her first cry… he wasn’t there to hold her first. He wasn’t there to hear her speak her first word…
he wasn’t there when she took her first step…
He was nowhere," Akansha spat, each word laced with years of buried hurt. "So, for her… he is as good as dead."
Her words pierced through him.
Shaurya didn’t have the strength to withstand her bitterness, yet he stood there, unmoving, staring at her as if he deserved every bit of it.
Akansha took a deep breath, forcing herself to rein in her fury before she continued.
"This is what I wanted to tell her," she said, her voice lowering, "but I couldn’t put that kind of bitterness into her little mind. I know what it does to a child."
She paused briefly.
"Siya knows a few things about her father. I didn’t want to give her false hope that she would meet him one day… but at the same time, I couldn’t lie and say her father was dead. So yes… my daughter still hopes that one day, her father will come back."
Shaurya drew in a deep breath.
Relief flickered within him—his daughter didn’t think he was dead.
But it was quickly overshadowed by something heavier.
The realization that he had stayed away from her for five long years.
"Siya’s… can I see her pictures?" he asked, his voice hesitant. "From her birth… till now?"
"Not now," Akansha replied. "I’ll show you when I’m comfortable enough. Those memories are extremely dear to me… and private."
He let out a deep sigh.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked, frustration bleeding into his voice. "You didn’t tell me about my child. You had no intention of telling me… and now you’re trying to keep her—and even her memories—away from me. Why, Akansha?"
"Why?" she repeated sharply. "You dare ask me why?"
Her eyes blazed.
"I am protecting my daughter. What if this is just another act? What if you have other intentions? You can go to any extent when it comes to retribution. You’ve already used my family once… what guarantee do I have that you won’t use my daughter this time?"
Her words struck him harder than anything else.
His lies—meant to protect her—had led to this.
To this complete breakdown of trust.
Should he tell her everything now?
No… he couldn’t.
Once, he had been consumed by revenge. He had hurt her—deeply. But that wasn’t why he had married her. It had been love. There were still truths she didn’t know.
He had planned to tell her after their marriage.
But the reality of his parents had made that impossible—he couldn’t risk her life.
"Siya is my daughter," he said quietly, hurt evident in his voice. "How can you even think that I would hurt her?"
For a brief moment, something shifted in her expression.
She chose not to push him further on that.
"Fine," she said. "I agree—you won’t hurt Siya intentionally. But what about unintentionally, Shaurya?"
Her tone steadied, turning practical.
"You’re the Chief Minister. No one knows about our marriage or our divorce. If you start meeting Siya regularly, what do you think people will assume? And God forbid if the media gets even a hint of it—can you imagine the kind of filth they’ll throw at me? At my daughter?"
He exhaled slowly.
She was wrong about many things—but this fear?
This was real.
The problem was, she believed her version of the truth was the only truth.
Reality was far more complicated.
And he didn’t even know where to begin explaining it.
"I’ll decide how and when to reveal the truth," he said finally. "Until then, we can maintain privacy. I promise you—nothing will come out unless you want it to."
"I will never want it," she replied instantly. "What part of that do you not understand?"
"None of it, actually," Shaurya said bluntly. "You sound absurd."
Akansha’s eyes widened in disbelief.
Absurd?
He destroyed everything—and now he had the audacity to call her absurd?
"Siya is my daughter," he continued, his voice firm. "I want to be there for her—as her father. I have no reason to hide her. She is not a sin I need to conceal. She is a blessing… one I would proudly announce to the world."
"Nice speech," Akansha cut in sharply. "But I’m not one of your voters who gets impressed by your public statements."
Her gaze hardened.
"You’re a public figure. This will impact Siya’s life. I don’t want her life disrupted in any way. Let her have a peaceful life."
"Don’t decide for her, Akansha," he said, his tone equally firm. "Think about what Siya would choose. A life with her father in it… or a life without him?"
He held her gaze.
"I don’t want her to grow up resenting either of us because of your overprotectiveness."
Akansha looked at him, her mind spiraling.
Because that… was her fear too.
But letting Shaurya into Siya’s life meant inviting chaos.
Inviting scrutiny.
Inviting politics.
Inviting a world where her daughter could become a pawn in someone else’s game.
"I promise you," Shaurya said softly, taking her cold hands into his warm ones. "I won’t let any harm come her way. I’ll protect her from everything you’re afraid of. I won’t let anyone drag you or my daughter into my political mess. Trust me."
"How, Shaurya?" she asked, pulling her hands away. "How are you going to do that? Will you suddenly announce that you were married, got divorced, and just found out you have a daughter? Is that your plan?"
"No," he said calmly. "How I handle it is for me to decide. But trust me—I won’t let anything affect you or Siya."
His voice turned resolute.
"I want to be a part of my daughter’s life—not as a friend, but as her father. And I will do everything in my power to balance my political career and my responsibilities as a father. But if it ever comes down to choosing between the two…"
He paused.
"I will choose my daughter."
Akansha stared at him, stunned.
She had never imagined he would even consider sacrificing his political career.
"What would you do then?" she asked, unable to hide her astonishment.
"What do you mean?" he replied. "I’m not broke, Akansha. I have more than enough to take care of my wife and child for a lifetime."
She glared at him.
"Ex-wife," she corrected.
He opened his mouth to respond—but stopped. Nothing he said right now would make a difference.
"So you’re planning to sit idle and live off your ancestors’ wealth?" she asked, disbelief evident in her tone.
"That’s my money, Akansha," Shaurya said evenly. "I’ve invested in businesses—small and large. I’ve multiplied that wealth fifty times through my own hard work. You can’t call it inherited anymore."
He paused before continuing.
"And to answer your question—I won’t sit idle. Politics isn’t the only thing I know. If you remember, I worked as the Chief Financial Officer for a multinational before stepping into this. I can earn a living anywhere."
"Yes, but politics is your forte," Akansha countered immediately. "Everyone has a dream career, Shaurya. Yours has always been politics—you’ve always wanted to thrive in it. And now you want to walk away from it? Why would you take such a stupid step?"
"You sacrificed your dream career too, didn’t you?" he shot back.
Her expression stilled.
"If you had wanted, you could have pursued it. But you chose not to—just to stay hidden from me, to protect our daughter from the threat you believed I was," he continued.
Every time he said "our," her heart betrayed her with a soft, unwanted flutter.
"If you could give up your dream career for Siya—without even experiencing what it feels like to live that dream—then I can leave mine to spend a peaceful life with my daughter," he added quietly. "At least I’ve already lived my dream for five years… unlike you."
"And you think the media, the public, your rivals—they’ll just stop once you step away from politics?" Akansha snapped, frustration seeping into her voice. "They won’t let you live peacefully. They won’t let you do any other job either. Why are you so blind to that?"
She didn’t understand why she was even arguing for his career.
Or maybe she did.
If he stayed in politics, he would keep his distance—from her, from their daughter—fearing the consequences.
And yet…
There was something deeper, something she refused to acknowledge.
She couldn’t bear to see him lose what he loved most.
"Then I’ll become a house husband," he said casually.
Akansha shot him a sharp glare.
"I mean… a stay-at-home dad," he corrected quickly.
She huffed in irritation, silently cursing whoever had coined that term.
"Why are you so concerned about my career?" he asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.
That earned him another glare.
That was all she gave him now—sharp looks, guarded expressions.
Once upon a time, he used to see love in those same eyes.
He missed that.
"I’m not concerned about you," she replied coldly. "I’m concerned about myself and my daughter. I don’t want your supporters blaming us for your political exit."
"They won’t," he said firmly. "And anyway, that’s the last resort—only if I fail to balance both roles. I’m confident I can handle both."
"Of course," she said with biting sarcasm. "Who would know better than me about your ability to play dual roles?"
He understood the underlying meaning. But he stayed silent. He deserved every bit of her bitterness—and more.
The intercom rang, pulling them both out of the heaviness of the moment. Without taking his eyes off her, Shaurya pressed the button.
"Sir, Mr. Dikshit is here to see you," Suraj’s voice came through.
"Send him to my study," Shaurya replied, then cut the call.
"You can go to your room," he said to Akansha, his tone turning hard. "I need to speak to Akash alone."
"Whatever Akash did was according to my wishes. He wasn’t at fault," Akansha said immediately.
"Not at fault? Seriously?" Shaurya asked, disbelief flashing across his face.