CHAPTER 57! UNMASKED #2
Aadhira let out a quiet, shuddering breath. A single tear slipped down her cheek, but a small, genuine smile finally broke through the exhaustion on her face.
They sat in silence for several minutes, holding hands, until a nurse quietly knocked and stepped inside to request the room be cleared for morning rounds and vital checks.
Outside in the hallway, Shaurya stepped up, placing a soft, hand on Aadhira's shoulder to guide her toward the lobby exit.
"Ayaan asked for you," Shaurya said gently. "He's been awake all night. He won't sleep until he sees you come through the front door."
Aadhira nodded slowly, the weight of the last hours settling heavily back into her limbs.
When she reached the glass doors leading out to the hospital driveway, the crisp morning air hit her face, cold and sharp.
She paused on the pavement before stepping toward the waiting vehicle.
She looked back over her shoulder.
Aryav stood several paces behind her in the shadowed lobby, his hands buried deep in his coat pockets.
His expression was completely unreadable, his dark eyes fixed on her.
For one brief, fleeting second, looking at the shadow beneath his jaw, she thought he looked tired.
Then she turned back, climbed into the rear seat of the armored SUV, and pulled the heavy door shut.
The tinted glass closed between them, hiding her from view as the driver pulled away into the early morning city traffic.
Aryav remained standing on the pavement, watching the red taillights vanish around the corner.
Only when the car was entirely out of sight did his thumb move against his phone screen as it vibrated in his grip.
A single text message spanned the dark screen: Found him.
For three seconds, Aryav didn't move. The tired, quiet man who had held Aadhira through the night vanished, replaced by an absolute, stony stillness.
He brought his hand up, tapping his bluetooth earpiece.
"Where?"
"We have a location, boss," his commander answered immediately over the encrypted line. "Industrial sector, north warehouse."
"Put two cars on Aadhira. Full perimeter."
"Twenty-four hours?"
"Until I say otherwise," Aryav said, his tone dropping into absolute zero.
"Nothing comes within fifty meters. No exceptions."
"Understood. And the driver from the crash?"
"Dead," Aryav replied without hesitation.
"The photographer who took the surveillance shots?"
"I want him Alive."
A heavy, suffocating pause settled over the line.
"Keep him that way," Aryav commanded coldly.
"Until I arrive."
He turned back toward the hospital entrance. The glass elevator doors clicked shut as Aryav stepped inside, his dark reflection staring back at him from the polished steel as the cab began its silent descent to the basement garage.
.
.
.
One week had passed.
The house had slowly started feeling normal again. Not completely. Not yet.
But there were fewer hushed
conversations outside Kashvi's room. The constant coming and going of doctors had stopped.
Her medicines now sat in a neat row on the bedside table instead of being carried in and out every few hours.
Kashvi had been discharged three days ago. She was still weak. The bruises on her face and arms had changed from angry purple to fading shades of blue and yellow, but they were still there.
Even walking from her bed to the balcony was enough to leave her tired.
The worst part was sleep.
Every time she closed her eyes, her body seemed to remember the crash before her mind could process it. So she slept in short stretches.
And Vivaan stayed.
He had taken the entire week off from work. No one had asked him to.
He simply stopped going. Every morning, Kashvi would wake up and find him somewhere nearby. Sometimes he sat on the sofa with his laptop open, though she noticed he rarely looked at the screen.
Sometimes he stood near the balcony, talking quietly on the phone.
And sometimes he was simply sitting beside her bed, checking the medicine labels.
That morning, Kashvi opened her eyes to find him arranging the tablets in front of him. But what surprised her most was the little girl sitting quietly beside him, waiting patiently for her to wake.
When Vaani saw her eyes open, she immediately slid off her chair, held Kashvi's fingers, and whispered, "How are you, Aunty?"
Kashvi smiled softly. "I am okay, baccha."
Vaani leaned in closer, her voice full of innocent curiosity. "Papa said you are gonna be my mumma soon. Is it real?"
Vivaan cleared his throat sharply at his six-year-old daughter.
"Vaani."
The little girl went quiet.
Kashvi let out a small laugh, a nervous tightness fluttering in her chest.
"Yes," Kashvi said gently. "I will be your mumma soon. Do you want me as your mumma?"
Vaani nodded excitedly without a second of hesitation. "Yes! You are cute."
Kashvi's smile deepened.
"So I can call you Mumma?" Vaani asked.
Kashvi looked at her.
Warmth spread slowly through her chest. She nodded.
"Yes, princess."
"Mumma," Vaani said, trying out the word.
Kashvi didn't answer immediately.
"Yes, princess," she replied softly.
"I am going to play now. Get well soon, then we will play together!" Vaani announced before rushing out of the room.
For the first time since the accident, Vivaan smiled without forcing it as he watched them.
Kashvi turned her head toward him, staring for a few seconds. "Aren't you going to say something?"
Vivaan didn't look up from the medicine bottles. "No."
"Are you blushing?"
Vivaan looked at her.
"What? No."
"Yes, you are."
He cleared his throat and pointed at the blister pack. "You forgot the afternoon dose yesterday."
Kashvi frowned. "I did not."
"You did."
"I was tired."
"You're not tired to fight with me."
She rolled her eyes and tried to sit up. The moment she moved, a sharp pull in her ribs made her pause with a soft gasp.
Vivaan was beside her before she could say another word. "Slowly."
"I can sit up myself."
"I know."
His hand remained behind her back anyway, taking her weight until she was settled against the pillows. He handed her the glass of water.
"You haven't gone to work," she said, looking at him as she took it.
"For seven days?"
"Yes."
"Vivaan. You have a job."
"I know."
"Aryav actually expects you to do it."
"He can survive a week without me."
She stared at him, unable to hold back a sigh. "You're impossible."
He handed her the pills.
"And you're stubborn."
Kashvi swallowed the tablets. Vivaan watched until she finished the water, took the glass from her hand, and set it back on the table.
For a few seconds, neither spoke.
Kashvi looked down at her bruised fingers. "You don't have to stay all the time," she said softly.
"I know."
"But you do."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Vivaan reached over and pulled the blanket a little higher over her legs.
"Because I want to."
Kashvi looked at him for a long moment.
Then she smiled-small, but real. "You're going to make me impossible to get rid of."
Vivaan's mouth curved faintly.
"That was the plan."
She laughed softly.
Vivaan sat back in the chair beside her bed, his hand lingering over hers until her breathing slowed and her eyes fluttered shut once more.
He gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and sat in the quiet space, making sure she was completely fast asleep before he finally stood up to leave.
And for the first time since the accident, the room didn't feel like a recovery ward.
It felt like home.
Elsewhere, beneath the city, the air moved very differently.
The basement smelled of damp concrete, old copper, and stale tobacco. A single fluorescent tube hung overhead, buzzing with a low hum that washed the room in a dull white light.
The Police Commissioner sat bound to a heavy steel chair in the center of the room.