The Alpha and Me

124. Back in the mansion

Hiii Readers,
I'm sooooooooooooooooooo sorrrryyyyyyyyyyyyy for not updating this book for so long. I kind of lost interest in updating the book as I felt like most of the manan readers have now moved on. I didn't get a very good response of my message last time either.
Maybe it's because of my inactivity, but I felt kind of demotivated because I'm used to a flair of your response 🙏😭
But a comment gotten recently made me realize that there are many readers who still want to read the end of this story.
So posting it for those loyal ones ❤️
Thanks for sticking around, demanding updates and showing anger when I didn't update. This shows how much you guys love this book (and maybe me too😁)

Enjoy reading ❤️

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24. Back in the mansion

Nandini's POV

Old memories slammed into my awareness when we landed at NYC airport. I held Mahir in my arms tightly as Manik led us out through a private exit route that I was cognizant with.

My legs refused to move further and out of it when I reached the center of the passage. My heart caught speed and tears began to form in my eyes again.

"What's wrong, mom?" Mahir touched my cheek.

I blinked my eyes and flashed a smile at him, "Nothing."

I couldn't confess it to him. Not that he needed to know. But the man who forced me to come back to his ruling state and pack knew what was going on in my mind. He looked at me with eyes full of assorted emotions. He recalled it, too.

We've used this private exit after we returned from our hot holiday five years ago. It was the best time of my life that I spent with him. And the time during which I conceived Mahir. However, it was also the time after which my life sloped down into the darkest trench of affliction.

Ignoring Manik, I walked past him and came out. There were two black sedans already waiting for us. Manik settled in one with me and our son whereas Raghav got on-board in the other car.

"Let me have him." Manik snatched my son from my lap and made him sit in his.

My knuckles turned white from tight clenching as I suppressed the urge to throw them in his face. He was acting like a jerk to me. Manik didn't ask me for food or beverage on the plane and kept Mahir with himself. He was offended by my remark where I pronounced our son as his bastard.

Although I reproached myself for using that term for my son, it was forced out of me. Manik was being extraordinarily nice with our son. As if he was going to give the world to Mahir once we landed in New York.

But I knew what was waiting for us. A jealous mate. A handful of hurt children. A lot of drama. And obviously, colossal suffering for me and my son. Because Alia and her kids wouldn't like to have us in their home, and they would make our stay miserable.

To be blunt about this situation, I was ready for it. Even looking forward to it. I endured pain and discrimination five years ago because it was me alone. Now I have a child and as his mother I would even battle with the sons of the devil.

"Oh my! Is that our house, dad? It's so huge. I can't believe it's real." Mahir's voice pulled me back to the present.

A wave of fear washed over me when I gazed at Malhotra Mansion from the windscreen. I pulled my knees together and involuntarily a hand lifted to my chest. My heart was banging in my rib, my shoulders were tight and numb.