Adrija's POV:-

'Maaa....maat ja..oo na mujhe chorke....' her voice crack, desparately asking me hold her close and stay with her.

I took her close rubbing her back continuously. But my eyes stared at that one person. His blank expression.

Dhruv sir stood motionless—rigid, even—his hands clenched into fists by his sides. His jaw was tight, lips pressed into a flat line. His honey brown eyes held a strange flicker I couldn’t place. Not warmth, not confusion… something sharper. Darker.

But before I could decipher it, the look in his eyes vanished—like a storm cloud that passed too quickly to rain but left behind a strange chill.

He stepped forward, voice firm yet flat, strained as if holding back something. "Shona, maine kaha na, aap mere paas aao… aunty ko jaane do, beta."

Before I could react, he tried to take her—forcefully. Her little hands flailed, pushing his arms away, her cries growing louder, more desperate. She thrashed in my arms, her breath coming in short, panicked bursts.

“Ssshh… It’s okay, bacha…” I tried to soothe her, but her tiny chest heaved with each uneven breath. My eyes widened in alarm, and I instinctively turned my back towards him, shielding her protectively in my arms.

"Yeh kya kar rahe hain aap?!" I snapped, unable to hold back.

“She doesn’t want to go to you! Saans nahi le paa rahi hain bechari, and you’re still trying to force her?”

He glared at me then—hard and sharp, the kind of look that could slice through silence. I flinched slightly, but didn’t back down. My arms only tightened around her trembling body as I rocked her gently.

"Don't you dare tell me what should I do or shouldn't !" he barked, voice laced with fury.

“Dont forget that I am your senior.. And top of that—I am her father!”

The weight of his words pressed against me—but I stood my ground, eyes blazing.

"Aur aap bhi yeh mat bhuliye," I shot back.

"ke iss waqt main aapke beti ki  doctor hoon. And right now, I know better what’s good for your daughter and what’s not. So, with all due respect—back off, sir."

Our eyes clashed—fire meeting fire.

Between us, her tiny body trembled like a leaf in a storm. Her cries had weakened now, reduced to soft hiccups and incoherent murmurs.

"Maa… maa..." she whimpered, her voice barely a breath, broken with exhaustion.

My heart clenched.

"Shhh, bacha… main yahi hoon, aapke paas… shhh… stop crying," I whispered into her ear, my voice trembling with a softness I didn't know I possessed. She clung to me like I was the only safe space left in the world.

In that moment, nothing else mattered—not the man watching us, not the titles, not the rules. Just her, and the comfort she desperately sought.

He turned his face away, jaw clenched tight, eyes blinking rapidly as if trying to suppress the storm brewing within him. His fists had curled at his sides, nails digging into his palm.

I looked up at him, voice gentle but firm. "I get that you are her father, sir...but you also have to understand, jab bachhe ki tabiyat kharab hoti hai... unka dil sirf ek cheez chahta hai—apni maa ka paas hona."

There was no response. Only the sound of her uneven breathing and his silence thick in the air.

"At this moment, she’s not looking for medicine, or even a doctor... she just wants comfort. She wants her mother."

At my words, something flickered across his face—brief, but enough. A shadow, a crack in the carefully maintained mask. His entire body went still… and then stiffened.

"Toh please..." I added softly, "Aap apni wife ko bulaiye... she wants her mother."

He didn’t look at me.

He didn’t look at her.

But I saw it—the way his jaw tightened to the point of pain. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. And in that silence, I realized something was wrong.

Author's POV

Before she could say another word, his eyes met her.

And she froze.

Her breath caught in her throat, the air suddenly too heavy to inhale. His eyes—bloodshot, rimmed with pain—held a thousand untold stories. He was trying, with every ounce of strength he had, to hold back the tears threatening to break free.

"Nahi hai uski maa... mar gayi hai hum dono k liye..." he said, his voice low, guttural—like it was tearing out from a place he kept buried deep.

He grabbed her arm , pulling her close with a slight force.She flinched as she held the baby tightly with her body.

"Tumhe ek baat ek baar mein samajh kyu nahi aati, haan?" His words snapped like a whip as he took a step closer.

The little girl flinched in her arms, instinctively pressing her face into her neck, shrinking away from the harshness in his voice.

"When I’m asking you to give her to me, there must be a reason, right?" he gritted through his teeth, frustration seething beneath every syllable.

"Sirf main hoon… sirf main hi uski maa hoon, aur main hi uska papa…" he spat, the dam of restraint finally cracking.

His voice trembled with fury, but it was the pain underneath that made the words bleed.

"From next time, don’t you dare utter that fucking word in front of me… or else—" he stopped mid-sentence, pointing a trembling finger at her, eyes burning with a mix of rage and raw grief, "—you won’t like the consequences."

A single tear betrayed him. It slipped down his cheek, silent and uninvited, exposing the storm he had buried so deep it had started to rot him from within.

She opened her mouth to respond… but nothing came.

No defense. No denial. No apology.

Just silence.

Her lips quivered, her breath caught, and tears welled up in her eyes—unexplained, unstoppable. She didn’t know why… maybe guilt, maybe sorrow, or maybe it was the shattered look in his eyes that cracked something inside her.

He stared at her for one long, burning moment—one that screamed louder than a thousand words—before turning his back on her.

And just like that... he was gone.

The door didn’t slam. No footsteps echoed.

But the silence that filled the room afterward?

It was deafening.

Louder than any scream.

Sharper than any blade.

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