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I looked at Sunshine sleeping peacefully in our bed-bare, beautiful, completely mine.
The crimson marks scattered across her body were the proof of the night we shared, of our passion, of our bond.
I couldn't help the smirk tugging at my lips as I traced her cheek with my knuckles and carefully slipped out from under her.
I pressed a kiss to her soft lips, not wanting to wake her. She mumbled something in her sleep, burying her face deeper into the pillow, and I just stood there for a second, watching her.
Then I quietly walked to the garden.
There, under the moonlight, lay Sheraa, our little prince, curled up like a snowball, his breathing steady and calm. I crouched and gently scooped him into my arms. He blinked sleepily but didn't resist-he knew it was me.
"Let's go, puttar," I whispered. "Mama will be mad if you catch a cold."
I tucked him into his plush bed inside the house and padded silently down the hallway toward my secret room.
Inside, the dim amber light illuminated the almost-finished portrait on the easel-her, sprawled on our bed, skin bare, gleaming, but covered with the marks of my love. Possession, power, intimacy-it was all there.
I picked up my brush and added the final strokes, capturing the softness of her curves, the way her hair sprawled across the sheets, the way her lips were slightly parted, eyes shut in surrender.
When it was done, I sat back in my chair, satisfied. But the grin slowly faded from my lips.
Something felt... wrong.
Ever since Adya left for our father's house, this odd ache had been tugging at my chest. Not fear, not panic-just a persistent unease. A sense that something was about to shift. My instincts, the same ones that had saved my life countless times, whispered something wasn't right.
I covered the portrait and leaned back, eyes narrowed at nothing.
First thing in the morning, I told myself, I'll call her. If anything's even slightly off, I'll burn that house down myself.
With one last glance at the canvas, I left the room and walked back into my bedroom.
There she was-my Sunshine, tangled in the sheets, my scent all over her, peace on her face. I slid into bed beside her, wrapping my arms around her waist, pulling her against my chest.
Whatever storm was coming, I would deal with it.
But for now, I held my world in my arms.
I woke up to the soft rays of the morning sun streaming through the curtains. The room was warm, quiet-perfect. And right there, curled into me like I was her whole world, was my Sunshine.
She was still sleeping, face pressed gently against my chest, hair a beautiful mess around her like a halo.
Her lips were slightly parted, and her arms wrapped around me like she'd never let go.
I didn't move. I just watched her, taking in every little detail-every mark I had left on her last night, every breath she took, every twitch of her lashes.
God, how did I get this lucky? I thought, brushing my lips against her forehead.
But that uneasiness hadn't left me. It had only grown heavier.
Slowly and carefully, I slipped out of bed without waking her. She murmured something in her sleep, hugging the pillow I left behind, and I smiled softly before walking out of the room.
As soon as I reached the hallway, I took my phone from the side table and dialed Adya's number.
It rang once.
Twice.
Three times.
Four.
Nothing.
I frowned, brows tightening. I called Gyan next.
"Pick up, Gyan," I muttered under my breath.
After a few seconds, Gyan picked up. His voice was groggy, still waking up.
"Datta? Everything okay?"
"Where's Adya?"
He paused. "She said she was staying back at your father's house for a while. Why? Did she not call you?"
"No. And she's not picking up." I exhaled, tension creeping up my spine. "Gyan. Something's wrong."
There was silence on the other end. Then, Gyan's voice dropped low and serious.
"I'm getting dressed. I'll be there in ten. We'll go together."
I ended the call and headed back to the bedroom.
My Sunshine was sitting up now, rubbing her eyes sleepily, hair still messy and face glowing in the soft light. "Hmm? Where'd you go?" she asked, voice thick with sleep.
I knelt beside her and took her hand. "Adya's not picking up. She didn't call either. I have a bad feeling, Sunshine."
She blinked, instantly alert. "Want me to come with you?"
"No," I said, kissing her hand. "Not yet. I need to see what's going on first. Gyan and I will go."
She nodded slowly. "Call me. The second you get there. And if something's off, I'm coming-whether you like it or not."
I smiled softly, brushing her hair back. "I'd expect nothing less from you."
I stood up, grabbed my jacket and phone, and kissed her forehead once more before leaving the room.
Something in my gut told me...
This wasn't going to be a normal visit.
Me and Gyan reached the Agnivanshi main house. I didn't wait for permission. I walked in with the weight of my name and power, doors opening like they knew better than to stop me.
Inside, I saw him-Shiva Agnivanshi-sitting like a king on his damn throne, sipping coffee beside his ever-silent wife Pooja, pretending to be some dignified couple. Their kids were laughing about something, chatting like their world was perfect.
I wanted to burn it all.
"Where is my sister?" I asked, voice flat, cold.
The entire room fell silent like I'd shattered the glass over their little fantasy. All eyes turned to me.
Pooja stood up slightly, trying to manage the moment. "Datt-"
"It's Dattatriya." I cut her off sharply, not even blinking.
Her kids looked confused. One of them even looked... hopeful? Like I was going to show them some kind of affection. Pathetic.
Pooja nodded, shrinking back a little.
Shiva Agnivanshi cleared his throat, placing his cup down. "Adya left... last night itself."
I froze. Gyan stiffened beside me.
"What the hell did you just say?" My voice was quiet, but it had the calm of a loaded gun. "She's not picking up her damn phone, hasn't contacted anyone, and you-you're sitting here saying she just left?"
"She said she came for her mother's things and she was done-"
"And you let her go? At night? Without informing anyone? You didn't even THINK to call me?" I took a step forward. "Are you that brainless or just rotten with ego?"
"Dattatriya-" Pooja tried again, but I shut her up with a glare.
Their son stood, "Bhaiya-"
"Don't call me that." My voice thundered. "You're not my brother. You never will be."
I turned to Shiva, the man who called himself my father.
"She came here for our mother. Not for you.
And now she's gone without a trace. If something happens to her-if a scratch touches her skin-I will bury this entire house brick by brick and no one will even remember the name Agnivanshi. Don't test me."
I turned, my coat flying behind me as Gyan followed. Neither of us said a word until we reached my car and drove to the mansion.
The second we walked in, we saw Katha standing near the sofa with Arya bhabhi, her hand on her baby bump, Bhairava, Papa, Dyan, and Utsav all lounging with coffee and snacks, laughing softly at something Utsav had just said.
"Datta!" Katha smiled warmly. "Gyan bhaiya! That was quick! You didn't even stay for coffee at your father's house?"
I stopped at the doorway, clenching my jaw.
"Gyan, Dattatriya? What happened?" Bhairava asked, tone shifting.
I didn't say a word. Gyan stepped forward, tense.
"Adya's missing."
Everything in the room went still.
"What?" Katha whispered, already stepping toward me. "What do you mean missing?"
"She went to Shiva Agnivanshi's house yesterday... and apparently left last night." My voice was dead calm, but I knew the storm in my chest was close to bursting. "She didn't inform anyone. No calls. No messages. And she's not answering her phone."
Bhairava swore loudly. Arya covered her mouth in shock. Papa stood, suddenly deadly silent.
Katha was already reaching for her phone. "We're tracing her location now."
And I?
I was already planning who would pay first.
Utsav was typing fast, fingers dancing over the keyboard as Katha-my sunshine-stood beside him, eyes sharp.
"Track Adya's phone, Utsav," she said. "Come on, how could we forget we have the best hacker right here?"
Utsav gave a small nod, focused, and after a few tense minutes, the tracker pinged. "Got it. She's outside the city... at an old cliff near the forest zone."
Without a second thought, we all rushed out. I drove like a madman, my chest heavy, something pulling me toward that location with a kind of fear I couldn't explain. I couldn't lose Adya. Not her.
The road twisted, foggy as we got closer. And then I saw her.
She was sitting at the edge of the cliff, her back to us, crying silently, holding something in her lap. A diary.
I stepped forward but paused as Gyan called softly, "Adya..."
She turned slowly, eyes swollen and face pale, and I saw the kind of pain that tore through the soul. She didn't even flinch seeing us.
"I found this diary in the locker... mama's diary," she whispered, voice shaking. "She wrote everything... every thought, every decision she made before she left us."
Katha went and sat beside her, holding her gently while the rest of us listened, frozen.
Adya clutched the diary to her chest. "Pooja Agnivanshi... I hated her all my life. I called her names. I blamed her for everything... But mama-Janaki-she... she asked her to marry papa."
I blinked. What?
Adya nodded, tears falling. "Yes, bhaiya. Mama and Pooja were best friends. Mama knew she was dying. And she didn't want us-me and you-to grow up without a mother. She begged Pooja to marry papa. She made her swear not to tell us... because she wanted us to accept her on our own terms."
My heart stopped.
"She gave up her life, her peace, her identity... just to take care of us. And what did I do? I cursed her. I looked at her with hate. I blamed her and her children for every scar in my life."
I fell to my knees. My vision blurred. My jaw clenched, fists tightening. I felt numb. Hollow.
What kind of son was I?
I-Dattatriya Agnivanshi-who prided himself on reading people, protecting family... couldn't see the truth that was right in front of me. I failed her. I failed mama. I failed Pooja.
I watched Gyan gently lift Adya into his arms. She didn't resist. Her head rested on his shoulder as if she was done-done fighting, done carrying that weight.
Then I felt a hand on my shoulder. Warm, grounding. I didn't need to turn. I knew it was her.
"D-Datta," she whispered softly.
I turned my head and met her eyes. My sunshine. The only person who saw through every mask I wore.
"Let's go home," I whispered hoarsely.
She simply nodded. No questions. No judgments. Just quiet strength.
We both drove back in silence. I didn't speak a word. Because nothing I said would've carried the weight of what I felt.
I had wronged someone who gave up her life... just so I wouldn't grow up motherless.
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