8
I held Dattatriya tightly.
The ruthless Chief Minister... the emotionless ruler of the Italian Mafia... the man the world bowed to in fear-was right now just a broken son mourning a mother he lost too soon.
And I didn't push him away.
I couldn't.
Because I knew. I knew that pain. The hollow ache of losing a mother too early, too suddenly.
My mom... she died giving birth to Utsav.
I was young, but I remember everything-her warmth, her laughter, how she used to hum to me when I had nightmares. One day she was there... and the next, she was gone. Just like that.
And people expect you to move on.
But you don't.
That void stays. The ache only grows quieter, never smaller.
I closed my eyes and tightened my hold on Dattatriya, one arm firmly wrapped around his back as my other hand moved slowly through his thick hair, gently caressing his scalp.
He didn't say a word.
But I could feel it in the way his body trembled against me, the way his breath stuttered like a boy who was never allowed to cry.
I rubbed his back, slowly, soothingly.
"It's okay..." I whispered. "You're not alone..."
He buried his face deeper into my neck like he was afraid I'd vanish too. And something inside me cracked. Not out of pity-but understanding.
I leaned my head on his, my lips brushing against his hair as I whispered again, "You don't have to be strong all the time, Dattatriya... not with me."
And for the first time, I felt it-not just his pain, but his surrender.
He wasn't just holding on to me...
He was giving in. Trusting me with a side of him no one had seen before.
And I silently promised him-I wouldn't break it.
Not him. Not this moment.
Because right now, we weren't enemies. We weren't rivals.
We were two broken souls who knew what it meant to lose the most precious person in the world.
Sheraa was growling low, his fluffy white tail puffed, golden eyes fixed sharply on Dattatriya like he was judging every breath he took near me.
I didn't even flinch-because I knew this look.
Sheraa doesn't like anyone near me.
Not my friends. Not my clients. Not even the staff.
Only Bhairava bhaiya, Gyan and Dyan bhaiya, and Utsav are spared from his death glares.
And now here was Dattatriya Agnivanshi... the man holding me like his entire soul depended on this one embrace.
Sheraa's low growls turned into a soft, warning whimper, and I finally turned my head.
"Sheraa..." I said softly.
He stilled, big paw mid-air, fur still bristled. He looked confused, conflicted.
It was as if he sensed something deeper, something even I was struggling to understand.
I moved one hand down from Dattatriya's back and gestured lightly at Sheraa, "He's okay, baby... he's not hurting me."
Sheraa took cautious steps toward us, growling low again, his big head tilting as if still suspicious.
I held my breath, expecting him to paw Dattatriya off me or hiss the way he usually does when someone he doesn't like touches me.
But instead... to my absolute shock-
Sheraa padded close, sniffed him once... and then licked his face.
My eyes widened.
"What the..." I blinked, genuinely speechless.
Dattatriya froze too, his face still buried near my shoulder but now stiff with shock. Slowly, he tilted his head just enough to look at Sheraa... who gave him one last gentle nuzzle before flopping down beside us like a protective guard.
I stared at them both, absolutely stunned.
Sheraa had never accepted anyone so fast-especially not someone wrapped around me like this.
Dattatriya finally glanced up at me, a strange softness in his usually unreadable eyes.
"Looks like he approves," I murmured, still processing the bizarre miracle I just witnessed.
He didn't say anything. Just looked at me. And I swear... there was a flicker of something almost reverent in that gaze.
It was as if, in that one moment, both beast and man decided I was home.
I gently came out of his arms, though a part of me didn't want to. But I knew-he wouldn't want me to see more of that side. Not yet.
I picked up Sheraa, who was now calmly purring, as if he hadn't just licked the most dangerous man in the country like a house cat. I held him close and turned toward Dattatriya.
He was standing now, tall, composed, and stone-faced. The man with red eyes, trembling shoulders, and buried pain was gone. Replaced once again by Dattatriya Agnivanshi-Chief Minister, Mafia King, untouchable storm in human form.
His expression was blank. Cold.
As if nothing had happened.
I stared at him, not saying a word.
And he stared back... not saying a word either.
The air between us was heavy-thick with things unspoken. But I wasn't going to force him. I never would. He gave me a piece of himself today... and that mattered more than anything he could say.
"Take care, Mr. Agnivanshi," I said softly, adjusting Sheraa in my arms.
His jaw twitched slightly-barely noticeable, but I caught it.
And then... he nodded.
Just once.
I turned and began walking away, my heart beating heavier than I expected it to.
As I reached the path back to the road, I could still feel his eyes on my back.
Sheraa lifted his head and looked behind us once, then nuzzled into my neck.
And even though he didn't speak another word...
I knew he was still standing there. Watching. Holding onto the moment we just shared, the same way I was.
I stepped into the mansion, the familiar scent of sandalwood and old leather books greeting me like a warm memory. My heels echoed faintly as I walked in, Sheraa still curled peacefully in my arms, the little bow on his neck slightly crooked.
As soon as I looked up, I saw them-my whole world.
Dad was sitting on the central sofa, flipping through a file, glasses perched low on his nose.
Gyan bhaiya and Dyan bhaiya were arguing about something, again.
Bhairava bhaiya was on the phone, probably trying to convince Arya bhabhi about something, and Utsav was curled on one corner, typing furiously on his laptop.
And yet, all of them looked up the second I stepped in.
Without a word, I walked straight to Papa, dropped onto the couch beside him, and gently leaned into his side, curling up like I used to when I was a little girl. Sheraa rested on my lap as I nuzzled against Papa's arm. He instantly wrapped it around me protectively.
"Hmm... my princess is tired?" he asked, his voice low and warm.
I didn't answer.
Just gave a soft nod and closed my eyes briefly, breathing in the comfort that only a father's presence can bring.
"What happened?" Bhairava bhaiya asked from behind.
I just shook my head and murmured, "Nothing. I just... missed this."
Gyan bhaiya came over, "You look like you fought the world."
I chuckled softly, "Not the world. Just... memories."
Papa tightened his hold around me, and in that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the contracts, not the mafia, not even Dattatriya Agnivanshi and the way he had unraveled and rebuilt something inside me today.
Right now, I was just Katha-their little sister, their daughter. Home. Safe.
I flinched as Utsav laid his head on my stomach, his face buried into my hoodie. His silence screamed louder than any words, and I instantly knew something was off.
I gently caressed his hair and asked softly, "What happened, my ladlee?"
He didn't answer at first, just clung to me tighter. Then he slowly looked up at me, his big innocent eyes brimming with tears.
"You miss Mama... right?"
His voice was so small, barely above a whisper. The moment those words left his mouth, the whole living room froze.
Papa stiffened. Bhairava bhaiya paused mid-step. Gyan and Dyan bhaiya stopped bickering. The silence became thick, heavy with unspoken grief.
Then Utsav's lips trembled, and his chin wobbled.
"It's because of me... Mama died, right?" he whispered, voice cracking. "She died because she was giving birth to me, right? I'm the bad luck... I shouldn't have been born. I killed our-"
"UTSAV!!" I shouted, my voice echoing through the walls like thunder.
The very air went still.
He flinched, startled by my tone, but I didn't let him go. I gripped him tightly, my arms around him like steel. All my brothers had rushed to us in a second, and Papa was right beside me.
"Don't you ever say that again," I said, my voice firm and shaking with emotion. "Do you understand me, Utsav? Not. Ever."
"You are our blessing, not a curse," Bhairava bhaiya said, kneeling beside us. "You brought light to this house when everything else had turned dark."
Gyan bhaiya gently ruffled his hair, "If you weren't born, we would've all crumbled. You kept us together, laddu."
"You're our heartbeat, idiot," Dyan added, awkwardly brushing a tear from his eye. "Don't talk like that again or I'll punch you."
Utsav was crying now, full sobs shaking his little body as he clung to my hoodie like a lifeline. Papa reached forward, cupping his cheek and wiping away his tears with his thumb.
"Your Mama," Papa said quietly, "was the strongest woman I've ever known. And she wanted you. She prayed for you every day. She loved you before you were even born, Utsav. And I love you too, with everything I have left."
I kissed Utsav's forehead and whispered, "You didn't take her from us, baby. You gave her back to us... in your smile, your mischief, your laughter. Every time I see you, I see a part of her. And that... that is a gift."
Sheraa whimpered beside us, curling around Utsav protectively, as if even he knew the heaviness of this moment.
Utsav slowly looked up at all of us. His tears had slowed, but his lips still trembled.
"Promise me," I said gently, cupping his face. "Never say that again."
He nodded through a broken whisper, "Promise."
We all pulled him into a group hug - one big tangle of warmth, tears, and love.
And for the first time in a long while, it felt like Mama was there with us... in the space between heartbeats.
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