The hall was filled with fear, tension, and the echoes of silent prayers.

Rukmini and Sulekha were crying uncontrollably, their hearts heavy with helplessness.

Virat and Abhinav struggled against their restraints, their veins bulging with the force of their attempts.

And Yakshita—she stood there, her eyes closed, her mind flashing through the memories of the love and happiness she had found with this family.

She remembered:

Rukmini and Virat’s warmth that made her feel like their own daughter.

The endless pranks she played with Avni and Abhinav, their laughter echoing through the palace halls.

Sulekha’s food, filled with love and care, reminding her of the motherly touch she had lost.

And most of all—Abhiraj.

The way he married her, protected her, respected her. The way he, in his own indirect, stubborn way, confessed his love.

And then, the memory shifted.

She saw the video.

The attackers had shown it to her, mocking her, breaking her spirit.

She had seen Abhiraj's car under attack.
She had seen him getting shot, falling lifelessly onto the road.
She had seen his blood painting the ground.

A lone tear slipped from her eye.

"I'm coming, Mr. Rathore. Wherever you are, I'm coming."

She braced herself for the worst.

But before the trigger could be pulled—

"PUT YOUR GUN DOWN!"

A voice rang through the hall. Loud. Commanding. Powerful.

A voice everyone recognized.

A voice they never thought they would hear again.

Rukmini’s breath hitched. Tears blurred her vision as she screamed, "Abhi! Mera beta Abhi!"

Virat’s hands trembled. His eyes shone with moisture as he whispered, "Abhiraj..."

But Yakshita—she couldn’t move.

Her body froze.

Her mind refused to believe what her eyes were seeing.

The same man she had watched fall lifelessly to the ground was now standing in front of her.

Abhiraj Singh Rathore.

Tall. Strong. Very much alive.

Her breath caught in her throat.

"How? How is this possible?"

The attackers turned pale.

Their boss stumbled back in disbelief. Raghu, the so-called mastermind, felt his world crashing.

They had won.

So how was he here?

The moment Abhiraj’s eyes locked onto Yakshita’s, everything else disappeared.

They spoke without words.

"Don't worry, Yakshita. I've come. Everything will be alright." — Abhiraj’s eyes reassured her.

"Are you fine, Mr. Rathore?" — Yakshita’s eyes screamed with emotions.

"I'm all fine, Mrs. Rathore. Just wait a little longer, love." — Abhiraj’s gaze softened, filled with warmth.

The attackers’ boss staggered back, fear gripping his soul.

"H-How are you alive?" he choked out.

Before Abhiraj could reply, another voice echoed through the hall.

"YE HUM BATATE HAIN!"

Everyone turned sharply toward the entrance.

A man, dressed in all black, walked forward with a swagger that demanded attention.

His presence alone made the air feel heavier.

Avni’s heart skipped a beat.

Without thinking, she whispered, "Kuch bhi bolo, ye lagta toh hot hi hai."

Abeer .

The man of mystery, the one everyone feared yet admired.

But as he took another step, his eyes landed on Rajmata.

For a moment, his expression flickered—a trace of emotion flashing through his cold exterior.

But he quickly masked it.

His voice held amusement as he finally spoke,

"Tum log sochte ho ki Abhiraj Singh Rathore, is jaise aadmi ko maarna itna aasaan hai? Ek goli kaafi hai?"

Abhiraj frowned, feeling offended.

"‘Is jaise aadmi?’ Kya matlab hai tera?" he snapped.

Abeer smirked. "Bhai, words chhod. Emotions dekh."

Virat, now completely fed up, yelled,

"IS THIS THE TIME FOR YOUR CHILDISH FIGHTS?! GET TO THE POINT!"

Abeer grinned, turning to the attackers.

"Haan haan, Papa. Bas aapka beta beech mein distract kr rha tha."

Abhiraj scoffed. "Main? Distract?"

Abeer ignored him and continued, his voice dipping into a deadly tone.

"Tum log sochte ho ki tumne Rathore ko phasa liya. Tumhari galatfehmi hai. Sacchai yeh hai ki Abhiraj ne tumhe tumhare hi bil se bahar nikala hai."**

The attackers’ faces paled.

"Usko sab pehle se pata tha." Abeer smirked. "Usne jaan bujhkar goli khai. Wo chahta tha ki tum log is baar saamne aakar khelo, na ki chhup kar."

The hall erupted into gasps.

Virat’s eyes widened.

Sulekha covered her mouth in shock.

Yakshita—

She stared at her husband, completely speechless.

She had been mourning his death.

She had been ready to die for him.

And here he was, standing proudly, looking smug, because he had wanted to play hero.

Her blood boiled.

"Dekho toh inhe… kaise chaure hoke khade hain. Kucch ho jaata toh? Inhe hero banna tha  na , kisi ko saamne lane ke liye goli kaun khaata hai?!"

She hadn’t realized she had spoken out loud.

Silence.

And then—

"Haan, main!"

Her head snapped up.

Abhiraj’s smirk widened.

"Main, Mrs. Rathore. Ya yun kahun ki—Princess Yashi Singh."

The entire hall froze.

And Yakshita—

She couldn’t breathe.

He knew

To Be Continued…