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One month later, the four of them sat together in Angad's room, but Aadir seemed lost in his own world, as he tell them, his mind still lingering on the recent conversation he had with his grandfather. It weighed heavily on him-he had never wanted to disappoint the man he looked up to the most.

The memory was still sharp and stung like a fresh wound. He could almost hear his grandfather's voice, stern and unyielding.

"I couldn't accept this from you, Kabir," his grandfather had snapped, his disappointment cutting through the air.

As Aadir replayed the moment, he couldn't ignore the way his grandfather had turned away, the flash of sadness in his eyes quickly masked. Aadir had wanted to say something, to reassure him, but words had failed him. After a moment, he finally dared to break the silence.

"You're missing him, aren't you?" he asked gently, his voice barely above a whisper.

His grandfather sighed deeply, his gaze distant. "I'm tired, Aadir. Just leave. I need some rest," he murmured softly, standing up and walking away with slow, heavy steps, leaving Aadir alone, weighed down with his thoughts and guilt.

"I have an idea," Angad suddenly said after listening to Aadir's concerns.

.

.

.

Kabir was speeding down the road, gripping the steering wheel tightly. It was clear he had drunk too much; his face was pale, his eyes unfocused, and he seemed barely aware of his surroundings. The harsh words he'd heard just hours earlier kept echoing in his mind, tormenting him.

Suddenly, he saw a car right in front of him. With a hard jerk, he slammed on the brakes, and his car swerved sharply, crashing against a tree. For a moment, everything was still. Kabir closed his eyes, his face twisted in pain, and tears rolled down his cheeks. When he opened them, they were bloodshot with rage and despair. In a sudden outburst, he punched the headboard, his breathing ragged.

"No...this can't be true," he mumbled, his voice breaking.

Gathering himself, he whispered fiercely, "He has to meet me." Tightening his grip on the wheel, he started the car again and sped off into the night.

.

.

.

Niranjan stepped out of his car and began walking, as he reach at stairs but a loud, jarring sound made him pause and turn.

He turned to see a car crashed against the mansion gate. The security guard was trying to stop the car, but inside, Kabir was slumped over the steering wheel, clearly intoxicated, his movements sluggish and unfocused.

The head security guard quickly approached when he recognized Kabir. He signaled to the guards, who had raised their guns, to lower them and return to their positions.

His eyes flicked nervously toward Niranjan, who stood watching the scene with a cold, unreadable expression. Just then, the car door swung open, and Kabir staggered out, struggling to keep his balance.

He stumbled toward the towering iron gate, his hand pressing against it as if trying to push it open. But when it wouldn't budge, his brow furrowed in confusion. He glanced around, swaying slightly, until his gaze fell on a small stone lying near his foot.

With an exaggerated effort, he picked up the tiny rock and clumsily swung it against the gate, his expression making it seem as though the stone was impossibly heavy. The guards looked on, eyes wide with disbelief, as he repeatedly tapped the gate with the small stone, aiming at a spot where there was no lock or latch.

The guard swallowed nervously as he looked over at Niranjan, who observed the scene blankly.

As he walked closer, the guard started to speak, "Sir-"

"Shhh..." he whispered, swaying slightly. "Keep it down. If Ma hears, she'll know I... I had a few drinks... and came home late."

The guard quickly lower his voice and whispered, "Sir, isn't this a bit... much?"

"Yeah, I was thinking the same," Kabir replied, tossing the stone aside as he wiped his face with his arm.

The guard stared at him in astonishment as he opened the gate. Kabir watched in amazement, as he patted the guard on the back.

"Thank you, sir," the guard said, stepping aside.

As the gate opened fully, revealing Niranjan standing still as a shadow on the other side, watching Kabir with a sharp, unreadable gaze. Kabir expression changed, and he slowly walked toward his father, taking cautious, unsteady steps.

"Papa," he whispered softly, almost to himself. He pointed between Niranjan and himself, smiling and shaking his head.

"Do you even know where you are standing?" Niranjan asked, his voice low and steady.

"Yes, in my own house," Kabir answered confidently.

He slowly reached for Niranjan's hand, trying to pull him forward to walk with him. Niranjan's brow furrowed slightly as he caught the strong smell of alcohol wafting from his son. "How much did you drink?" he asked, his voice edged with irritation.

Kabir raised his eyes, shaking his head innocently in denial.

When Niranjan didn't start walking, Kabir turned to him.

"Where are you taking me?"

"To the doctor," Kabir said.

"Why?"

"So we can confirm-through a DNA test-that you're actually my father," he replied,

His eyes hardening as he finally took in Kabir's disheveled state. For the first time, he noticed how bad his son's condition really was.

Kabir's eyes grew misty as he collapsing heavily into Niranjan's arms. Niranjan quickly hold him and bent down with him. Kabir's eyes fluttered, heavy with the weight of intoxication, barely able to stay open.

As Niranjan supported him, his hand brushed against something warm and sticky on Kabir's head. Pulling his hand away, he found it smeared with blood. A rush of worry crossed his face.

"Tell me, Dad, that you're my father... let's go, let's do the test," Kabir mumbled weakly.

Niranjan gently pushed back Kabir's hair, revealing a cut on his head where the blood, now sticky, had started to clot. He stared at Kabir with a blank expression.

"Who told you this?" he asked, his voice a low, icy murmur.

Kabir's body sagged, his consciousness slipping, but Niranjan held him up, placing a firm hand on his cheek to keep him alert. "I asked you something, Kabir. Who told you this?"

Kabir, struggling to stay conscious, mumbled painfully, "Mami..."

At that, Niranjan's expression shifted, his gaze growing colder, darker, his anger barely contained as he pieced together the situation. He glanced again at Kabir's bleeding wound, his hand moving instinctively to gently touch his son's head, a moment of tenderness amidst his inner storm.

By now, family members and staff had gathered, anxious and curious. Niranjan's voice was sharp as he turned to Ram who looks surprised seeing his dad like this. "Take him inside and call the doctor. Immediately."

Abhiram still in disbelief but quickly took hold of Kabir, guiding him carefully into the mansion as Niranjan rose to his full height.

Niranjan looked at Vyom. "Vyom, go and bring Aakriti and Samar here. Now."

Vyom, shocked and uncertain, gave a quick nod before hurrying off.

.

.

.

Angad and Aadir stood with Riya and Trisha just outside the house. They'd told their family they were going out for a dinner date, but had arrived here a few minutes earlier. With the help of Angad's men, they'd mixed something intoxicating into their drinks, creating a carefree atmosphere.

Peering through the windows, Angad and Aadir watched as they both laughed inside, unaware of their presence. Aadir turned to Angad, both recalling why they'd planned this little stunt. Angad had recently overheard them talking with Aakriti about property papers, enough to raise suspicion.

Do they have complete doubt?  They didn't have complete doubt on them... but he found it a little strange.

Aadir sighed, shaking his head, unsure if things would ever get back to normal for them. The tension was palpable-because of it, he and Angad did everything they could to provoke a reaction from their family. But Kabir, along with their grandparents, seemed unbothered, masking any sign of hurt or anger. Still, Aadir knew the pain simmered below the surface for everyone involved.

"Let's go."

Aadir snapped out of his thoughts, glancing at Angad. But before they could move, Riya spoke up, her attention drawn by the soft jingle of Trisha's anklet.

"Why didn't you take off that anklet before coming? Don't you know that whenever we go to such places, we're not supposed to wear anything that makes noise?"

Trisha and Aadir exchanged an amused look, then all three turned to Riya, eyeing her from head to toe with barely concealed smirks.

Aagad raised an eyebrow. "Have you done this before?" he asked, teasingly.

"Arrey, don't you guys watch CID?" Riya responded, trying to sound serious.

Trisha shook her head, laughing. "We're not going in dressed like this," she said, gesturing at their outfits. They'd come out for a dinner date, dressed accordingly in elegant attire.

Aadir couldn't help but admire Trisha as she stood there, her hair loose and framing her face, with a stray strand brushing against her cheek. She reached up, tucking it behind her ear, her lips curving into a shy smile as she tried to contain a giggle at Riya's serious expression. It was the first time she'd seen Angad acting like this, and it was hard not to laugh.

Without a word, Aadir moved closer to Trisha, his gaze softening. He closed his eyes briefly, then shrugged off his coat, gently draping it over her shoulders. Trisha looked up, momentarily startled, before a warm smile spread across her face. She looked away, a blush coloring her cheeks.

Riya and Angad, who had been waiting in silence, turned to see the scene between the couple.

Riya sighed, rolling her eyes playfully. "Uff."

Angad glanced at Riya, then shrugged off his coat and pushed it into her hands. Riya looked up at him, confused.

"Take it," he said firmly.

She shook her head, holding it back. "No, I'm hot."

Angad raised an eyebrow, his expression shifting as he processed her words.

Realizing what she'd said, Riya bit her lip, stumbling over her explanation. "I mean... I feel hot. That's all."

Angad leaned closer, muttering under his breath, "Tumhe pakadne ke liye diya hai (It's for you to hold onto)."

Before she could respond, Aadir interrupted, glancing between them. "You both stay outside," he instructed, giving them a look that told them to be cautious.

With that, Angad and Aadir slipped through the kitchen window, moving silently as they entered the house. Riya and Trisha stayed outside, exchanging glances as they prepared to watch this little plan unfold.

As they slipped inside, Angad peered through a doorway, spotting two figures asleep on the couch. He exchanged a look with Aadir, and they crept silently through the halls, already knowing the layout-the office and bedrooms were just ahead.

Unable to contain his frustration, Angad grabbed a heavy vase, as if ready to throw it at them.

"What the hell are you doing?" Aadir whispered sharply, pulling him back.

Angad gritted his teeth. "You know what? I'd love to throw this on their heads. I don't understand why they hate Divit, my little brother."

Aadir sighed, knowing exactly what Angad meant. For years, they hadn't noticed anything amiss, but in the past few months, subtle changes had started to show-changes that only recently became apparent. Angad, in particular, was the first to sense something was off.

Aadir patted Angad's back and whispered, urging him, "Let's just finish what we came here for and get out quickly."

They split up-Angad heading to the office while Aadir went to the bedroom. They began searching quickly yet carefully, looking for any files, diaries, or documents that might hold the answers. But as they checked drawers, shelves, and hidden compartments, nothing useful surfaced.

In the office, Angad's eyes landed on a locked cabinet. He pulled out a key he had managed to secure in advance and unlocked it, just as he heard the faint hum of an approaching vehicle. Outside, Riya and Trisha also noticed the headlights and exchanged a look of alarm.

Inside, Aadir and Angad froze as they heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. Moving swiftly, Angad locked the cabinet and stashed the files they'd looked through back into place. Aadir hurriedly stuffed a few stray papers into a drawer before they bolted for the kitchen. As they stumbled into each other in their haste, they managed to slip through the kitchen window just as the headlights swept over the driveway.

Angad was the last to climb out, and as he moved to lock the window, he looked up-and froze. His grandfather. For a moment, Angad was paralyzed, a flash of shock running through him. He hadn't expected him.

Finally, Angad silently shut the window and hurried to join the others in the car, where Riya, Trisha, and Aadir were already waiting. Without a word, they sped away, hearts pounding, the gravity of their close call sinking in as they left the house behind.

What is he doing here?

                           ******

𝗜 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘂𝗽𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲!

𝗛𝗮𝗽𝗽𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴! ❤️✨


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