15
The moment I crossed the door, I saw them all waiting for me - Papa, Bhairava bhaiya, Gyan bhaiya, Dyan bhaiya, Arya bhabhi, and even Dattatriya standing silently at a distance.
As soon as Papa saw me, he didn't waste a second - he walked straight toward me and pulled me into a tight hug.
I didn't even realize how badly I needed it until I felt his arms around me.
"My strong girl... my Katha," Papa whispered, his voice thick with emotion, his hand stroking my hair as if I were a little child again.
And that's when it hit me - all of it.
Utsav lying there helpless.
His broken sobs.
His trembling voice saying Di...
The accusations.
The blood on his hand.
The fear.
The betrayal.
I broke down in Papa's arms, silent heavy sobs wracking my body, but no sound leaving my mouth.
My brothers came closer, creating a shield around me, blocking me from the world.
"I'll fix it, Papa," I whispered through my tears, clutching his shirt tightly.
"I'll burn down this world if I have to... for him."
"We know, baby," Bhairava bhaiya said quietly, resting his hand protectively on my head.
"We all will."
"Anyone who touched him will regret being born," Dyan bhaiya growled lowly, his bruised hand curling into a tight fist again.
"We're with you, always," Gyan bhaiya added, his voice steady and fierce.
I wiped my tears finally, taking a deep breath.
I could not afford to break down now. Not when Utsav needed me to be the cold, merciless Katha Choudhury the world feared.
I looked up at them all, my eyes hardening back into steel.
"We will destroy every single one of them," I said.
I felt Dattatriya's gaze on me again - steady, calm, observing everything silently - but I didn't look at him yet.
My focus was my baby brother first.
Sheraa whimpered softly from Bhairava bhaiya's arms and I reached to take him back, kissing his little head.
Then I straightened, my voice ice cold, "Lana, I need every detail about that girl, her family, the party, the guest list, CCTV footage, call records - everything."
"Already working on it, Ma'am," Lana said, flipping through her tablet.
"Good," I said sharply.
This wasn't just about proving Utsav's innocence anymore.
This was about vengeance.
And I was just getting started.
It was morning already - the pale golden light of dawn seeped through the hospital windows, casting a quiet glow over the tired, broken family sitting outside Utsav's ward.
None of us had slept, not even for a minute.
Papa sat silently, his hand resting on Sheraa who was curled up on the floor beside him, occasionally whimpering.
Arya bhabhi sat next to Bhairava bhaiya, her head leaning tiredly on his shoulder.
Gyan bhaiya and Dyan bhaiya were pacing, restless like caged lions.
And even Dattatriya - the cold, distant, ruthless Chief Minister - never once left.
I noticed it.
He stayed through the night, standing silently by our side, blending into our pain without a single word of complaint.
I realized then - it's not about who's with you when you're happy and the world claps for you.
It's about who stands beside you when you're drowning in darkness.
And Dattatriya Agnivanshi, the man no one dared to even approach without trembling, stood here with us without hesitation.
I had just shifted Sheraa gently on my lap when Dattatriya came near me.
His tall figure cast a shadow across us as he knelt a little so he could speak softly without disturbing the heavy silence around.
"I got all the CCTV footage," he said, voice low and sharp.
"And the illegal recordings inside the party. You can clearly see who spiked Utsav's drink... and who dragged him into that room with that girl."
I stared at him, heart thundering.
The weight of what he said settled over all of us like a heavy stone.
He didn't just say it - he handed over the USB drive to Lana, who immediately tucked it away like gold.
We all looked at him - and for the first time, the mighty Choudhury family's hard faces softened with gratitude.
Bhairava bhaiya stepped forward without hesitation and pulled Dattatriya into a hug - a rare sight that stunned even me.
"Thank you," Bhairava bhaiya said roughly, his voice cracking slightly.
Dattatriya just nodded, completely unfazed, as if helping us in the deadliest war of our lives was the most natural thing in the world.
I watched quietly, my heart squeezing strangely in my chest.
For a man who ruled with iron fists and emotionless commands...
Today, he had given us something we couldn't measure - hope.
Sheraa whined softly again and I stroked his fur absent-mindedly, but my eyes stayed locked on Dattatriya.
Maybe... just maybe...
This battle, I wouldn't be fighting alone.
The doctors came in again, checking Utsav carefully as we all stood in tense silence.
After what felt like years, one of them smiled slightly and said,
"He's doing better. You can take him home now - just keep an eye on him, make sure he rests and eats well."
Papa immediately nodded, relief flooding his face.
"Thank you, doctor," he said quietly, his hand tightly squeezing Utsav's.
I turned away, not trusting myself to look at Utsav yet.
The storm of emotions inside me was too dangerous - heartbreak, anger, terror - all boiling so violently I felt like I could tear the world apart.
I busied myself packing Utsav's things into the small hospital bag.
Every item folded neatly, methodically, just so I wouldn't scream.
Sheraa was laying right on Utsav's chest, paws on either side of him, scolding him with low growls and little playful swats of his tiny claws.
It would have been an adorable sight on any other day.
Today it just felt like a knife twisting deeper.
But I didn't look at Utsav.
Not once.
Not even when he whimpered my name softly.
Not even when he tried reaching out to me.
How dare he?
How dare he even think of leaving me?
After everything... after the way we fought the whole damn world for him.
After Mama gave her life to bring him into this world.
After Papa, Bhairava bhaiya, Gyan bhaiya, Dyan bhaiya, all of us spent years making sure he never felt an ounce of sadness.
And still, he tried to go away...
Tried to leave me.
My hands were trembling as I zipped up the bag.
I clutched it tightly, refusing to let the tears spill again.
"Let's go," I said coldly, without sparing him a glance.
Dattatriya silently came to my side, ready to support if I stumbled.
Papa helped Utsav into the wheelchair and Bhairava bhaiya picked up Sheraa, who refused to leave Utsav's side.
Together, broken but not defeated, we started the journey home.
As we stepped out of the hospital doors, the press swarmed like vultures, flashing cameras, shouting questions-
"Miss Choudhury! Is it true your brother attempted suicide?"
"Mr. Choudhury, who do you blame for this incident?"
"Miss Katha! Are you going to press charges against the girl?"
"Will Utsav Choudhury step down from family businesses?"
The noise was deafening, cruel, merciless.
I flinched slightly, feeling the weight of the chaos closing in around my broken family.
But before I could even react, I saw Dattatriya's men - tall, ruthless, cold as stone - push the press back with such deadly precision that the reporters actually stumbled away in fear.
Their cameras lowered immediately.
Some even ran.
And then... Dattatriya himself stepped forward, flanked by Bhairava bhaiya on one side and Gyan bhaiya on the other.
The three of them together - silent, furious, lethal - just glared at the crowd.
One glare.
That's all it took.
The entire army of reporters froze, swallowed their questions, and backed away like terrified children.
Not a single word after that.
The air went still.
It was our silence now.
I tightened my hand on Utsav's bag and quietly walked towards the car.
Dattatriya stayed close, alert and watchful like a shield.
Papa helped Utsav into the back seat gently, and I slid in beside him, still refusing to look at his face.
Gyan bhaiya carefully placed Sheraa in my lap, and the cub immediately curled into me, sensing the tension.
With everyone settled, Bhairava bhaiya slammed the car door shut with finality, and our convoy drove away from the hospital, leaving behind a trail of silent, terrified press who wouldn't dare breathe our name in vain again.
We all entered the house - silent, heavy, exhausted.
In the car, Utsav had tried everything - tugging my sleeve, whispering broken apologies, even crying silently - but I stayed still, cold, unmoving.
My heart shattered at his pain, but my anger was fiercer.
He had no right to try and leave me like that.
As we reached home, everyone moved like shadows, helping Utsav settle in the living room.
Papa sighed deeply and sat down, his face older with worry.
Arya bhabhi quietly brought water for everyone.
Sheraa refused to leave my lap, sensing the storm inside me.
I sat stiffly on the sofa, arms folded, eyes blank - the lawyer mask still glued to my face.
It was then Dattatriya cleared his throat, his deep voice cutting into the heavy silence.
"I'll leave now," he said quietly, but firmly, his gaze locked on me and only me, ignoring everyone else.
"If you need anything, please feel free to call me. Anytime."
He said it like a promise. A silent vow.
I finally looked up - just for a second - and nodded curtly.
He gave a small nod back, one that only I caught, and turned away, walking out the door without waiting for any goodbyes.
I watched him leave, feeling an odd ache bloom inside me - an unfamiliar ache.
Maybe because... for once, someone stood by me without asking for anything in return.
But I pushed the feeling down.
Right now, my heart had only one mission: Make sure Utsav never feels so broken again.
Even if I had to become heartless to do it.
I stood up, holding Sheraa gently against my chest.
"Come, baby. Let's feed you," I whispered, kissing his soft fur.
Sheraa let out a tiny happy grunt and snuggled closer to me, while I walked away - not even sparing a glance at Utsav.
Behind me, I could hear the suffocating silence in the living room.
Utsav sat there, small and broken, looking at all of us with hope... but no one - not a single one of my brothers - even looked at him.
Their faces were hard, set in stone.
Gyan bhaiya, who would usually be the first to pull him into a bear hug, didn't even glance in his direction.
Dyan bhaiya's bruised knuckles twitched, but his expression stayed blank.
Bhairava bhaiya... Bhairava bhaiya didn't even move, just sat there cold and furious.
Only Arya bhabhi walked to him, quietly handed him a glass of water, and ruffled his hair softly - trying to give him even a sliver of comfort.
Papa sighed heavily, his face filled with a sadness no one could miss, but he too stayed silent.
I sat in the kitchen, feeding Sheraa with slow hands.
My heart wanted to run to Utsav, hold him close, scold him, love him...
But my anger kept me glued to my chair.
How could he?
How could he try to leave me - us - when we all loved him more than life itself?
Sheraa looked up at me with those big trusting eyes, and I hugged him tight, whispering,
"Don't ever leave me, baby... Mama can't survive that again."
And the house remained drowning in a thick, painful silence.
Only the sound of my brothers' muted breathing and Utsav's quiet sobs filled the air.
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