3
I sat on the massive velvet sofa in the middle of our grand living room, one leg folded under me, the other swinging lazily. The chandelier above shimmered like it had a purpose-but I didn't.
I was sulking.
Why?
Because everyone was busy.
Papa had gone to some high-profile meeting with ministers-something serious and "top secret," as always.
Bhairava bhaiya had abandoned me for Arya bhabhi-again. He'd left in such a hurry he forgot his phone. Unbelievable betrayal.
Gyan bhaiya and Dyan bhaiya? Oh, they were off burning tires and brain cells at some underground racing event they swore I wouldn't like.
"They don't let lawyers in," Gyan had joked.
"Especially ones who scold," Dyan added, glaring dramatically like I'd arrested him yesterday.
And Utsav? My baby? My precious little brother?
Gone. To college. Like some independent adult.
Left me. Just like that.
I sighed deeply, like a tragic heroine in a crime drama.
Sheraa was the only one around. My snowball of a baby was happily rolling his toy ball across the floor, pouncing on it with soft little growls, wagging his tail like life was perfect.
"At least you love me, na?" I muttered, leaning my head back against the sofa.
Sheraa paused, tilted his head, then did a little bounce toward me with his ball in his mouth. He dropped it in front of my feet like a peace offering and looked up with those big, innocent eyes.
I smiled despite myself.
"You're the only man who doesn't leave me alone," I grumbled, picking up the ball and tossing it lightly. "Catch it, Sheraa baby!"
He darted after it like a bullet, sliding on the marble floor in the most ridiculous way possible.
I laughed softly, shaking my head. "Everyone else left me to rot in this golden palace like some bored princess..."
Just then, my phone pinged.
A message from Gyan bhaiya:
"Don't sulk. We'll bring jalebis. Don't tell Papa."
Followed by a second one from Dyan:
"Tell Sheraa I miss him. Not you."
I rolled my eyes but smiled.
Still sulking.
But maybe just a little less.
I huffed dramatically as I stood up, ruffling my hair.
"That's it. I refuse to die of boredom in my own mansion."
Sheraa let out a soft chirp from the floor, his icy-blue eyes following me as I moved. He seemed curious-maybe excited. Or maybe he just knew I was up to something.
I walked to my room and threw on something casual-an oversized black hoodie (Gyan bhaiya's, obviously) and leggings. I tied my hair into a loose bun and slipped on my sneakers.
Sheraa padded over to me, tail swaying. I knelt down and scooped him into my arms.
"You and I, baby, we're going on an adventure," I whispered with mock seriousness.
He responded by nuzzling into my neck and purring softly.
Holding him securely, I headed downstairs. The guards at the entrance blinked in surprise as I casually walked past them with a literal snow leopard cub in my arms.
"M-Ma'am, should we-?"
"No."
"Understood."
I smirked.
Sliding into my black Range Rover, I settled Sheraa in the passenger seat-he curled up neatly like the spoiled royalty he is-and started the engine.
"Destination: ice cream," I muttered. "Because nobody loves me and I deserve happiness."
Sheraa let out a small yawn.
The streets were calm for now. A few people stared as we passed, more so when they realized the fluffy creature beside me wasn't a dog. I parked in front of my favorite ice cream place-Frost & Found-a small, cozy little shop tucked into one of Jaipur's quieter streets.
I picked up Sheraa again, who clung to my hoodie like a sleepy child, and walked in.
The guy at the counter blinked.
"Uh... ma'am, is that a-?"
"Snow leopard cub, yes. His name's Sheraa. Don't worry, he doesn't eat humans under 100 kilos."
The guy paled slightly but nodded.
I smirked. "One butterscotch cone and a small vanilla cup-for him."
"Coming right up," he squeaked.
As I sat at a corner table with Sheraa in my lap, licking his vanilla with dainty dignity, I took a slow bite of my cone and whispered, "See? This is why I love you. You don't judge me for needing ice cream therapy."
Sheraa looked up, licked my chin, and went back to his cup.
Perfect date.
I finished the last bite of my butterscotch cone with a satisfied sigh, wiping a smudge of cream from the corner of my mouth. Sheraa, now happily done with his little vanilla cup, let out a tiny burp and yawned-head resting on my arm like the dramatic prince he is.
I looked down at him. "You're such a spoiled little snowball, you know that?"
He blinked up at me with zero shame.
Rolling my eyes fondly, I stood up and shifted him into a more comfortable cuddle position in my arms. "Let's get something for my actual baby now-Utsu."
I walked back to the counter, Sheraa's tail swaying lazily from my elbow.
The guy behind the counter looked slightly more relaxed now-probably glad Sheraa hadn't mauled any furniture.
"One takeaway," I said. "Chocolate overload. For my little brother."
The guy smiled as he packed it carefully. "The one from the newspaper photo? With the top rank in cyber tech?"
I gave a small smile. "Yeah. That one. The cute genius."
He handed me the ice cream box nervously, still clearly intimidated by the fact that I was cradling a snow leopard like a baby.
"Thank you," I said, then added with a straight face, "If Sheraa liked your vanilla, you're officially blessed."
The man nodded like he'd just received the Padma Shri.
With Sheraa tucked comfortably and the ice cream in hand, I made my way back to the car. As I buckled myself in, Sheraa climbed into the passenger seat and curled up again.
"Utsav better worship me after this," I muttered, starting the engine.
But deep down, I already knew he would.
As I walked into the Choudhury mansion, the massive doors closed behind me with their usual echo-and what greeted me nearly made me laugh out loud.
There they were.
All of them.
Sulking.
Papa was on the single-seater sofa, rubbing his temple with an annoyed expression, his tea untouched.
Bhairava bhaiya sat on the floor next to the center table, scrolling through his phone like it had offended him.
Gyan bhaiya was slouched backwards, arms crossed, expression blank.
Dyan bhaiya sat next to him, throwing a stress ball up and catching it with an expression that screamed don't talk to me.
And my little Utsav was lying face-down on the long couch like his soul had left his body, mumbling something about college ruining his life.
Sheraa purred in my arms like he was just as amused as I was.
I smirked. "Well, well, well... look who's having a dramatic group breakdown."
Five heads turned toward me at once.
Gyan bhaiya groaned, "Where were you?"
"Don't ask!" Dyan added. "We called you five times."
I casually tossed my hair and strolled in, Sheraa still clutched like a royal heir. "I was out. Getting ice cream. For me... and this."
I placed the packed chocolate ice cream box on the center table dramatically.
Utsav shot up like a zombie resurrecting from the dead. "CHOCOLATE? For me??"
I grinned. "Yes, mere laadle. Because I love you more than the rest."
"Excuse me?" Bhairava bhaiya narrowed his eyes.
"You left me to rot in this house for Arya bhabhi," I countered, shrugging.
"She's my fiancée!" he argued.
"She's your excuse," I teased back.
Papa finally spoke, voice dry. "And you all claim I'm the dramatic one."
Gyan bhaiya looked at the ice cream and raised a brow. "You didn't get anything for us?"
"I didn't get anything for people who go racing and don't even invite me."
"We were protecting you," Dyan muttered.
"From fun?" I scoffed.
Utsav was already halfway through his ice cream, legs curled up beside me, while Sheraa had climbed into Papa's lap like it was his birthright.
Papa finally smiled, stroking Sheraa's head. "At least someone came home with sense."
I leaned back with a proud smirk. "Yes. Me. I always do."
The sulking continued, but this time... it wasn't mine.
And it felt amazing.
I snuggled into Papa's arms, resting my head on his shoulder like I was five again. There was a softness in his expression now, one he reserved only for us-and mostly for me, the forever spoiled one.
Utsav had made himself at home sprawled across my stomach, his half-eaten ice cream cup on the table as he scrolled through some meme page. Occasionally, he'd let out a soft laugh and show me something, but I was too comfortable to react.
Across from us... the legendary sulkers' squad continued their silent protest.
Gyan bhaiya leaned against the armrest of the couch, staring at the ceiling like he'd lost all hope in humanity.
Dyan bhaiya kept throwing that same stress ball in the air like it was his enemy.
And Bhairava bhaiya was tapping his fingers on the glass table in that danger zone rhythm we all knew too well.
"Oh god, stop sulking already!" I groaned, shifting slightly so Utsav didn't fall off me.
They all looked at me with the same expression-somewhere between how dare you and why are you like this.
Finally, Bhairava bhaiya spoke, his tone low but firm. "I'm going to meet Dattatriya Agnivanshi tomorrow."
Everything stilled for a second.
Gyan sat up straight. "You sure?"
"He's crossing lines," Bhairava said sharply. "Mafia business, ports, territory, everything. He thinks we'll sit and watch?"
"I'm coming," Dyan said instantly.
"Me too," Gyan added.
"Obviously," I said, sitting up as much as I could with Utsav still glued to me. "You think you'll go do all the action and leave me here to rot again? I'm bored. I'm coming too."
Papa sighed, running a hand through his hair. "This isn't a picnic, Katha."
"I know. But it might finally be interesting," I smirked.
Utsav rolled over and hugged my side like a child. "If you go, I'm telling Sheraa to sit on Bhairava bhaiya's face."
Bhairava gave him a deadly glare. "You wouldn't dare."
Sheraa, from his throne in Papa's lap, let out a lazy grrr-like he was perfectly okay with that plan.
Tomorrow was going to be very interesting.