72.1| The need of him. #3
"Aayansh Oberoi. He's nothing we ever wanted or expected for Tara. I've seen exactly what kind of a man he is," Dhairya continues, those merciless images from that night playing vividly through his mind.
And at the mere remembrance of them, his heartbeat falters for a moment.
"Months ago, I made the mistake of thinking I knew what was best for my daughter. I paid for that mistake, and I learned my lesson. Now-as long as Tara is happy-nothing else matters to me."
"You're her brother. Stay like one," he says, his tone flat. "You don't get to play God in her life."
Arsh still doesn't speak. He knows his father is right. And Arsh has never been the kind of man to defend himself when he knows he's in the wrong.
Dhairya exhales, his expression settling into something calmer.
That's when his gaze shifts towards the documents on the table.
For a few moments, he just stares at them, then...
"Tara's crowning."
He begins, then pauses.
"Her ceremony was supposed to take place on her last birthday, but it couldn't. She's turning twenty-two now. And according to tradition, our firstborn daughters are formally crowned at twenty-one.
"Tara is our only daughter. This time, I want the ceremony to happen... without any problem."
With that, he leaves.
While Arsh stays like that for a long moment.
Then, without turning, his eyes drop to Tara's reflection in the glass before him... a picture of her just a few days old, tiny and fragile in his arms.
And somehow... his expression softens.
Everything else fades away... the office, the city, even the argument he had just had with his father, leaving behind only the purest memories of their bond.
Ten-year-old Arsh, fresh from school, rushes straight to Diva's room, as he wants to see and play with his newborn sister before doing anything else.
But his feet come to a halt when he finds her crying in the crib, her tiny face flushed red, little hands flailing in the air.
One of her nannies has gone to get her milk, while the other is in the closet.
Hearing her cry like this, his heart aches. And without a second thought, he reaches into the crib and carefully lifts the baby into his small arms, despite knowing that Diva had strictly forbidden him from picking her up without an adult around.
Arsh looks down at her adorable little face, panic beginning to settle in.
Why is his sister crying so much?
Is she hurting somewhere? Does she want something?
He doesn't know how to make it stop. He only knows that he can't bear to hear her cry.
He sways her gently in his arms, far more carefully than one would expect from a ten-year-old. "Shh... little princess. Don't cry. See? Your brother is here!"
With her in his arms, he slowly walks around the room, trying to soothe her cries.
But nothing seems to work.
"See, if you cry like this, I'll also feel like crying!" He shifts her higher against his chest. "And I don't like crying."
This time, unexpectedly, the baby's cries begin to soften.
Her tiny honey-brown eyes meet his... the same warm shade reflected in his own.
The moisture in her eyes gives way to an adorable little giggle, her tiny hands flapping as if trying to reach his face.
And a wide smile spreads across Arsh's face.
But before he can say a word, a stern voice rings out from behind him.
"Arsh-?!"
He carefully turns around with the baby in his arms, only to find Diva walking toward him.
"I told you not to lift her! Can't you understand that she's so small? You might-"
"Mom, I sanitized my hands properly before touching her," Arsh says, then his eyes drop to the baby. "And she was crying. I couldn't see her like that."
Diva's heart melts instantly. "I know, my boy," she says, bending down to take the little one from his arms. "You're a very responsible brother. But your princess is still too small, and you're not old enough to hold her securely yet. You might unintentionally hurt her."
Diva barely reaches for the baby before her cries grow louder. Arsh instinctively pulls her closer, his expression turning protective.
"No, Mom," he says. "I will never hurt my princess. Not even by mistake," the promise is made with such certainty that a surprised smile finds his mother's lips.
A faint smile touches Arsh's lips, Tara's smiling face appearing vividly in his mind as he murmurs to himself, "I'll never do anything that hurts her. Never. And I'll never let anyone else hurt her either."
Aashika stands before the mirror in a burgundy three-piece suit, calmly adjusting her coat while Enzo's voice comes through the phone, updating her on the Vesper Syndicate's latest moves to corner them.
Since she's been in India for the past several months, Enzo-Her Most Trusted Man-has been overseeing her entire underworld operation in her absence.
Well, Aashika slips the ring onto her forefinger, her expression remaining cold and unbothered. Enzo watches her for a moment before asking quietly, "Donna, I just gave you some crucial information... what are you thinking?"
She doesn't even look up. "What do you think I'm thinking?"
Enzo's brows draw together. "How would I know?" he says, almost sarcastically. "I'm not smart enough to read faces, especially yours."
The corners of her lips twitch faintly. "When people can read your face and know what's going on inside your head, that doesn't mean they're smarter. That means-" She slides the final ring onto her finger and finally looks up at the screen,"You're dumb."
Enzo flinches. "Was that an insult...?"
"Take it however you like."
Enzo lets out a breath. "You're impossible."
And then, pausing for a moment, he adds, "Well... I hope you find someone who can see through that mask of yours sooner, donna."
Aashika rolls her eyes. "Handle everything there."
She ends the call without another word.
Scrolling through her phone, her eyes find moksh's text. "I'll be waiting for you at the place where you came to meet me, but I wasn't there. 1 PM. Please, come."
Moments later, Aashika reaches the dining hall, only to find the servants serving breakfast. Aayansh isn't there.
"Where is Aayansh?" she asks one of them.
He straightens before answering, "Ma'am, sir left earlier this morning."
Aashika's brows furrow. Still, remembering everything from yesterday, the faintest smile touches her lips.
Moksh sits in his cabin, his attention fixed on the laptop screen as he scrutinizes the report Aashika sent him, outlining the legal hurdles to expanding Aaina's medicinal subsidiary.
That's when a knock sounds at the door, and someone steps inside. His eyes snap up-Aashika!
The severity in his expression softens slightly as he rises.
"Did you check it?" Aashika asks, reaching him.
"Was just doing that," he says. "But who gets straight to the point like that? No hello, no hey?"
Aashika rolls her eyes as he gestures toward the chair. "Well, sit."
"You sit," Aashika mouths, making him sit as she stands beside him, turning her full attention to the laptop screen.
"Next time, don't leave the country without informing me."
"So desperate to keep me around, are we?"
"Whatever satisfies your narcissistic ass." She scrolls through the folder, clearly looking for something.
The corner of Moksh's mouth twitches, his gaze lingering on her for a moment too long, until Aashika's voice pulls him back.
"I know I'm beautiful, but for now, focus on the screen."
He blinks, then turns back to the screen, his expression blank again. "I'm a lawyer. So-I think I'll understand that better than you."
Aashika's fingers still, her eyes lift to moksh.
He scrolls through the files and opens a particular document. "This-The property in that area is privately owned."
Aashika leans forward slightly to read the text, a few strands of her hair brushing against Moksh's cheek. And that fleeting touch makes something in him almost falter, almost.
His eyes lift to her face again, she's completely absorbed in the screen, her fingers moving effortlessly across the keyboard. Moksh, meanwhile, goes still, suddenly aware of just how close she is... the soft warmth of her breath fanning against his skin with every exhale.
He draws in a slow breath, willing himself to focus on anything but her.
A few seconds pass like that. He desperately wants to say 'Please tuck your hair behind your ear. I cannot focus.' Another part of him wants to do it himself. So, finally, he gives in and asks.
"Should I help?"
"No. Just sit quietly like that."
Moksh's face drops slightly. "Too rude."
Aashika spares him a brief glance. "I'm not in the habit of sugarcoating my words just to make others feel good."
Then, he murmurs softly, almost to himself, "Still cute."
And this time, he shifts in his chair a little, and for the briefest moment, her hair brushes his lips, carrying the fragrance of deep roses and oud.
He lets the fragrance linger in his senses, just as a sharp voice rings in his ears.
"WHAT-THE-HELL?"
Both Moksh and Aashika's eyes snap toward the entrance. Malang stands there, a file clutched in one hand, his severe gaze fixed on the two of them.
Aashika's jaw flexes, while Moksh stands up and asks in genuine concern, "What happened?"
Instead of answering, Malang walks toward them slowly, looking like he's caught these two doing something they shouldn't, his eyes mostly fixed on Aashika.
He reaches them with the same expression-
Then, he suddenly tosses the file onto the table and casually looks at Moksh. "I was missing you, brother."
Moksh's brows pull together. "What?!"
Malang drops himself into the seat, leaning back as he shoots Aashika a sidelong glance. "What-what? I just need to spend some time with my brother."
Moksh's face hardens. "Malang..."
"Yeah?"
But then, Aashika speaks calmly, her eyes on Moksh. "How about you have coffee with your useless brother instead?"
Moksh's lips part to speak, while Aashika doesn't spare Malang even a single glance.
"Enjoy your 'bro' time. I'll lock the door for enough privacy."