Epilogue
Three Years Later
Advika stood in the main kitchen of Sinfully Sweet' flagship location, putting the finishing touches on an elaborate three-tier cake.
Her hands moved with practiced precision, piping delicate roses onto the pale pink fondant, even as her very pregnant belly made it difficult to get close to the counter.
"Boss, you shouldn't be on your feet this long," Meera scolded from across the kitchen. "You're seven months pregnant. You should be resting."
"I'm fine," Advika replied, not looking up from her work. "Besides, this is for my own baby shower. I'm not letting anyone else make the cake."
"Your husband is going to kill us for letting you work."
"My husband," Advika said with a smile, "can deal with it."
As if summoned by the mention of him, Sidharth appeared in the kitchen doorway. He'd grown even more handsome over the past three years—a few gray hairs at his temples, laugh lines around his eyes from actually smiling regularly, the hard edges softened by happiness and love.
"Advika Singhania," he said, his voice carrying that particular tone that meant she was in trouble. "What did Dr. Kapoor say about you being on your feet for hours at a time?"
"That it's fine as long as I take breaks?" She looked up innocently.
"That was two hours ago. You haven't moved."
"How do you know? Are you spying on me?"
"I have the security feeds on my phone. I've been watching you for the past hour." He moved into the kitchen, his presence immediately commanding everyone's attention. "You need to sit down. Rest. Let someone else finish the cake."
"It's my baby's shower cake. I'm finishing it."
"Stubborn woman," he muttered, but there was fondness in his voice. He moved behind her, his hands coming to rest on her swollen belly. "At least let me support you."
She leaned back against him, grateful for the solid warmth. Their child kicked as they always do when their father was close. Sidharth's face lit up like it always did when he felt their baby move.
"Our baby is going to be a fighter," he said softly. "Like her mother."
"God help us if he or she has your stubbornness and my temper."
"We're going to be in so much trouble."
Advika finished the last rose, then stepped back to admire her work. The cake was perfect—exactly what she'd envisioned. Pale yellow with white roses, delicate and beautiful, just like she hoped their child would be.
"Now can we go home?" Sidharth asked. "Before you decide to start on another project?"
"Yes, yes. Let me just—"
"Meera will handle closing," he interrupted. "Won't you, Meera?"
"Absolutely, boss." Meera was already shooing them toward the door. "Go home. Rest. We've got everything covered."
The drive home was peaceful. Sinfully Sweet had expanded to five locations across the city, plus a thriving catering business and a cookbook that had been on the bestseller list for six months. Advika's empire was everything she'd dreamed and more.
And through it all, Sidharth had been her biggest supporter.
"How was your day?" she asked, her hand resting on her belly.
"Good. Boring, actually. Lots of paperwork, one tedious meeting about shipping contracts."
At the estate, they found the family already gathering for dinner. It had become a weekly tradition—everyone together, sharing a meal, being a real family.
Nisha greeted them at the door, her engagement ring—a tasteful emerald, courtesy of her fiancé Eshaan—catching the light.
"You're late," she said. "And you look exhausted, Advika. Please tell me you weren't working all day."
"I was finishing the cake for the shower."
"Of course you were." Nisha rolled her eyes but smiled. "Come on. Dinner's ready. And Rishabh brought his girlfriend. I think this might be serious."
It was. Priya was lovely—a doctor, smart and funny, who treated Rishabh like he was just a man instead of the second-in-command of a mafia empire. Advika liked her immediately.
Over dinner, they laughed and talked. Nisha discussed wedding plans (six months away, and she was already driving everyone crazy with details).
Rishabh and Priya shared stories from the hospital where she worked.
Sidharth kept his hand on Advika's thigh, thumb tracing absent patterns, his touch constant and reassuring.
"I can't believe you're having a baby," Nisha said, her eyes on Advika's belly. "It seems like just yesterday you were the annoying new wife I was determined to hate."
"And now?"
"Now you're the annoying sister I'm stuck with." But Nisha's smile was warm. "I'm glad you're here, Advika. Glad you stayed. Glad you didn't give up on him." She nodded toward Sidharth.
"Someone had to knock sense into him," Advika replied.
"And thank God you did."
The relationship with her half-brothers remained cordial but distant. Abhishek sent perfunctory birthday cards. Rahul occasionally texted. They'd never be close, and Advika had made peace with that. The family she'd built here—with Sidharth, Nisha, and Rishabh—was more than enough.
After dinner, Sidharth practically carried her upstairs, despite her protests that she could walk perfectly fine.
"You've been on your feet all day," he said firmly. "I'm not taking chances."
In their bedroom—the same one they'd shared from the beginning, though it had evolved to truly be theirs now, full of photos and memories and love—he helped her change into one of his t-shirts (the only thing that fit comfortably anymore) and settled her on the bed.
"Do you ever regret it?" Advika asked as he lay beside her, his hand immediately finding her belly.
"Regret what?"
"The arranged marriage. Being forced to marry me. How it all started."
He was quiet for a moment, his hand moving in slow circles on her stomach. Their daughter kicked, and he smiled.
"Every day," he finally said.
Advika stiffened. "What?"
"I regret that you were forced into it. That neither of us had a choice.
That I wasted months being an idiot, pushing you away, making you feel unwanted.
" His hand pressed flat, feeling another kick.
"I regret that I didn't choose you from the start.
That I couldn't see what was right in front of me. "
"But?"
"But you choose me now," she said, understanding.
"Every day. Every moment." He shifted, propping himself up to look at her. "You and this little one—you're my world. My everything. And if I could go back and change how we started, I wouldn't. Because every moment—good and bad, easy and hard—led us here. To this."
Advika's eyes filled with tears. Damn pregnancy hormones made her cry at everything.
"I love you," she whispered.
"I love you too." He leaned down to kiss her belly. "Both of you. More than I ever thought possible."
"Show me," she said.
"Baby, you're exhausted. We don't have to—"
"I want to." Her hand found his, guiding it higher. "Please. I need you."
He understood. This need to connect, to reaffirm their bond before their lives changed forever with the arrival of their child. This desire to be close in the most intimate way possible.
"Okay," he said softly. "But we're doing this my way. Slow, gentle, careful."
He positioned them on their sides, facing each other, his hand never leaving her belly. When he entered her, it was with exquisite care, watching her face for any sign of discomfort.
"Okay?" he asked.
"Perfect," she breathed.
He moved slowly, each thrust deliberate and controlled. His hand stayed on her stomach, feeling their daughter move. The intimacy of it—making love while their baby was right there between them—was overwhelming.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his eyes locked on hers. "I know everyone says that to pregnant women, but with you, it's true. You've never been more beautiful than you are right now. Carrying our child. Glowing with life and love."
"I feel like a whale."
"You feel perfect." His hand slid from her belly to her face, cupping her cheek. "You look like a goddess. My goddess. The mother of my child. The love of my life."
She came quietly, gently, pleasure washing through her in soft waves. He followed soon after, her name a whispered prayer on his lips.
They stayed connected, wrapped around each other, his hand returning to her belly.
"I can't wait to meet the little one," he said. "Our baby."
"Two more months."
"I know. And I'm terrified."
"You? Terrified?" She raised an eyebrow. "The ruthless mafia king?"
"Terrified of being a father. Of screwing this up. Of not being enough." His voice was raw with vulnerability. "What if I don't know how to be what our baby needs?"
"Then we'll figure it out together." Advika's hand covered his. "Just like we've figured out everything else."
"Together," he agreed.
They fell asleep like that, tangled together, their child moving between them, safe and loved.
Two Weeks Later – Baby Shower
The baby shower was held at the estate, in the gardens that had once seemed so cold and unwelcoming but now felt like home. Advika's cake was the centerpiece, surrounded by flowers and gifts and women from every part of her life.
Meera and her bakery staff. Nisha and her friends (who'd warmed to Advika over the years). Priya, Rishabh's girlfriend. Even some of the society women who'd once looked down on her now treated her with respect.
She'd earned her place. Not through her marriage, but through her own efforts. Her own strength.
"Having fun?" Sidharth asked, appearing at her side.
"Aren't you supposed to be banned from the shower? This is a ladies-only event."
"I'm the father. I get special dispensation." He pulled her close, mindful of her belly. "Besides, I missed you."
"I've been gone for two hours."
"Too long."
She laughed, leaning into him. "You're going to be insufferable once she's born, aren't you?"
"Absolutely. Fair warning— if it’s a girl, I'm going to be one of those overprotective fathers who interviews her dates with a gun visible."
"She's not even born yet and you're planning to terrorize her future boyfriends?"
"It's never too early to start planning."
Later, after the gifts were opened and the cake was served which everyone declared it her best work yet, Advika found herself back in the main kitchen at Sinfully Sweet. She'd snuck away from the shower, needing a moment of peace, drawn to the place that had always been her sanctuary.
She was working on a small batch of macarons—lavender honey, Sidharth's favorite—when she felt him before she heard him.
"Sneaking away from your own party?" he asked from the doorway.
"Needed a break. And I wanted to make these for you."
He moved into the kitchen, coming to stand behind her, his arms wrapping carefully around her expanded waist. "You were poison I had to swallow," he said quietly. "You know that?"
She stiffened. "What?"
"When I married you. Everyone told me it was risky, that you were a Pradhan, that you couldn't be trusted. That you were poison."
"Sidharth—"
"But now?" His arms tightened. "Now you're the antidote I can't live without. The cure for everything that was broken in me. The reason I wake up smiling. The poison that became my salvation."
Advika turned in his arms, looking up at him with tears in her eyes. "That's the most beautiful thing you've ever said to me."
"It's true. Every word." He kissed her forehead. "I was dying before you. Slowly, from the inside out. And you saved me."
"We saved each other."
"We did." He cupped her face. "And now we're bringing a new life into this world. Continuing what we started."
She smiled, even as tears streamed down her face. "Still poisonous though."
"Still poisonous," he agreed. "Just mine."
"Always yours," she confirmed.
He kissed her then, surrounded by the sweet scents of sugar and vanilla, in the kitchen where she'd built her dreams, with their daughter moving between them.
Three years ago, she'd been forced into a marriage she didn't want with a man she didn't know. She'd been lost, scared, alone.
Now she was found. She was loved. She was home.
And as Sidharth held her close, their baby kicking against both of them, Advika knew with absolute certainty:
This was exactly where she was meant to be.
Always had been. Always would be.