CHAPTER 20! HIS ROOM #2
Aarush became profoundly fascinated by a specific grain in the white marble floor molding. Myra bit her lip, trying to stifle a nervous laugh, while Arjun leaned against the doorframe, looking like he was enjoying the impending execution far too much.
Reyansh simply let out a long, dramatic sigh. "There he is."
Arjun nodded.
"Thought we lost him."
Tara immediately raised both hands.
"Fine."
"Nobody mention the shirt."
Beat.
"We're all thinking about it though."
Aadhira seriously considered throwing herself out of the floor-to-ceiling windows and into the Arabian Sea.
At this point, it felt like the healthiest, most dignified option available to her.
Beside the light of the window, Aryav remained perfectly seated.
A porcelain cup of black coffee was balanced in one hand, his encrypted phone rested in the other.
Silent. Watching.
The absolute fact that he hadn't physically thrown them out of his private wing yet was somehow making everyone twice as nervous as they usually were.
Breaking the tension, little Ayaan walked straight past his older uncle. He didn't look at Aryav, nor did he check the room for danger.
He simply climbed onto the edge of the high mattress and sat down directly beside Aadhira.
The seven-year-old tilted his head, studying her face with absolute seriousness.
"Everyone else is being weird. Mumma are you okay."
Aadhira's defensive walls softened immediately. She lowered the blanket just a fraction, her voice turning gentle. "I'm okay, baccha."
"You look sad," Ayaan noted, his small shoulders squaring. "I don't like it."
He slowly turned his head toward the window, looking directly at Aryav. The room collectively stopped breathing.
"Did you make her cry dada?" Ayaan demanded.
Aryav lifted his gaze from his phone. Father and son stared at each other across the room, their expressions identical in their intensity.
Neither looked away. Neither blinked.
The shared Shinghania bloodline was striking in the morning light-the same dark, unyielding irises, the same stubborn set of the jaw.
Finally, Aryav spoke. "Not today."
Ayaan nodded once, entirely satisfied. "Good. Because Dadi already likes her."
A sudden, visible tremor of panic rippled through the older cousins. Even Reyansh looked slightly pale at the mention of their matriarch's early approval.
Reyansh folded his arms over his chest, leaning his heavy frame against a dark wood pillar to recover his composure. "Someone get a camera. Nobody is going to believe this."
Aadhira let out a miserable groan, pressing her forehead against her knees. "What now?"
"You," Reyansh said, gesturing widely around the perimeter of the vast, museum-like suite. "Do you have any idea how many people have been allowed inside this specific wing of the estate?"
Aadhira frowned through the strands of her hair. "No."
"One person."
Reyansh pointed toward Aryav.
"Him."
Pause.
"On good days."
"He says this like he didn't try to pick the lock twice last summer," Arjun stated, his tone completely deadpan.
Aarush gasped.
"I thought he'd killed me."
Arjun:
"You were in Goa."
Aarush:
"Emotionally, Arjun."
Aadhira laughed despite herself. The clear, genuine sound escaped her lips before she could use her brain to stop it.
The room went dead quiet.
Every single pair of eyes in the space immediately shifted away from the bed and snapped toward the window.
Aryav's gaze had lifted entirely from his phone. His obsidian eyes were fixed solely on her, tracking the lingering trace of amusement on her face with a heavy, intense focus.
Aadhira's smile slowly faded, her breath catching in her throat. Aryav didn't move a single inch, yet the entire room naturally rearranged its gravity around him.
Reyansh noticed the shift. A slow, highly dangerous grin appeared on his face. "Wow."
Aadhira pointed a warning finger at him from beneath the sheet. "Don't you dare."
"I didn't even say anything, bhabhi."
"You were exactly about to."
"I was."
"Don't."
Aryav finally broke the silence. He spoke just one sentence-low, perfectly calm, and vibrating with an underlying finality.
"Reyansh."
The grin vanished from Reyansh's face. Immediately.
Reyansh straightened his spine, his posture instantly turning respectful. "Yes, bhai."
"Out."
Silence settled over the cousins. They looked at each other, but nobody argued. Nobody tried to negotiate a joke.
Within seconds, the tight pack of cousins was moving in an orderly, silent retreat toward the double doors. Everyone except Ayaan.
The child remained firmly seated beside Aadhira on the silk sheets.
Aryav's eyes slid down to his son. "Ayaan."
A sudden, heavy sigh escaped the seven-year-old. It was a dramatic, deep exhalation-the exact same, weary sigh Aryav used during agonizing corporate board meetings.
Aadhira pressed her hand against her mouth, nearly laughing again at the sheer mimicry.
Ayaan climbed off the high mattress, his small sneakers hitting the marble. He walked over, leaned in, and pressed a soft, protective kiss against Aadhira's bruised cheek.
Reyansh watched the scene from the open doorway in stunned silence. "That's it," he whispered loudly.
"She's been adopted."
"By whom?" Arjun asked, pausing in the hall.
"All of us."
"That's not how adoption works," Tara muttered, shoving Reyansh's shoulder toward the corridor.
"It's how this family works."
Myra paused at the edge of the threshold, looking back at Aadhira one last time, her voice dropping its teasing edge entirely. "He's not joking, you know."
Aadhira lowered the blanket slightly. "What?"
Myra stopped at the door.
Looked at Aadhira.
"Just so you know..."
"Nobody's letting anything happen to you."
Aadhira blinked.
Myra smiled.
"Trust me."
"We've all been threatened."
Ayaan turned away from the bed and looked directly up at Aryav, completely ignoring the whispering in the hall. "If she cries again," the boy stated clearly, "I'm telling Dadi."
The entire doorway froze, Reyansh mouthing a silent cheer from the hallway.
Aryav stared down at his son. Ayaan stared right back, completely unafraid, unmoved, and displaying the absolute, terrifying stubbornness of a true Rai Shinghania.
Without another word, the boy turned on his heel and walked out.
The heavy doors clicked shut behind him. The remaining silence returned instantly, and the lingering warmth of the laughter disappeared right along with it.
The click of the lock echoed like a gunshot in the vast room.
Aadhira slowly lifted her eyes.
Aryav was already watching her.
No phone in his hand.
No coffee cup.
No modern distractions.
Just him, his dark silhouette framed against the morning light of the sea. Facing an entire room full of chaotic Rai Shinghanias had been terrifying, but facing just Aryav was infinitely harder.
Aadhira cleared her throat, her voice trembling slightly as she tried to break the heavy tension. "Why am I... why am I wearing your shirt?"
Aryav held her gaze across the expanse of the marble floor. For a long, agonizing moment, he said nothing at all, letting her sit in the weight of the question.
Aryav's eyes dropped briefly to the bruises on her wrist. Something cold passed through his expression, gone before most people would have noticed. Aadhira did.
"Your clothes were torn," he said.
Silence.
"So?"
Aryav leaned back. "So they couldn't stay on you."
Aadhira's breath caught. "You changed them?"
"No."
Relief hit her instantly, her shoulders dropping as she closed her eyes.
"Thank God."
Aryav's gaze remained on her face. "The maid changed your clothes."
A pause hung thick in the air.
"You thought I'd touch you while you were unconscious?"
Aadhira froze.
Aryav looked away first, his voice dropping lower into the quiet space between them.
"I have many flaws, Aadhira. That isn't one of them."