Dons of Punjab: Fluke of Reality✔️

Chapter 33

Amandeep Singh Aulakh

As I stepped out of Dada Ji's room, his words echoed in my mind.

Prabh is just as dear to me as Jashan. You need to prove yourself to her. Her brothers and I will not hesitate to take her away if we must.

I clenched my fists, determined. I won't give them a reason to take her from me.

My gaze landed on Prabh, curled up on the couch. Her face, even in sleep, held a hint of worry, as if she was afraid even in her dreams. She looked so small, so fragile, yet I knew she had the strength of a storm.

A storm that was always against me.

For a moment, I hesitated. I knew she wouldn't want me near her, let alone carrying her. But I couldn't leave her there all night. She'd wake up sore and exhausted.

With careful movements, I bent down and slipped my arms under her. As soon as I lifted her, she stirred, her eyebrows knitting together. My breath hitched.

She was waking up.

Her eyes fluttered open, still hazy with sleep. And then, in an instant, they sharpened with realization.

"Put me down," she hissed, her voice low but sharp like a blade.

I ignored her and carried her toward the door.

"Aman, I said put me down!" She struggled in my arms, pushing against my chest, but she was too sleepy, too weak to break free.

I tightened my hold. "Prabh, you'll fall if I let go."

"I don't care! I don't want you touching me!" Her voice rose, panic creeping in.

I sighed. "It's late. You're tired. Just let me—"

"No! Let me go!" she shouted, her fists pounding weakly against me.

I had no choice. I stopped in the doorway and slowly lowered her to the ground. The moment her feet touched the floor, she stumbled back as if my touch had burned her.

She glared at me, fire in her eyes. "Don't you dare touch me again. I don't need you. I don't need anything from you."

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay calm. "Prabh, you fell asleep on the couch. I was just trying to—"

"I don't care what you were trying to do!" she snapped. "You think doing small things like this will make me forget what you did? That I'll suddenly forgive you?"

Her words cut deep, but I nodded. "No, I don't expect you to forgive me."

"Good. Because I won't."

The air between us was thick with anger, with unspoken pain. She took a shaky breath, trying to steady herself.

"I don't want to be in this house. I don't want to be married to you." Her voice trembled slightly, but her gaze didn't waver. "Nothing you do will change that."

I clenched my jaw. "I know."

She scoffed. "Then stop pretending."

I took a deep breath. "I'm not pretending, Prabh. I just... I don't want you to sleep in discomfort. That's all."

She shook her head in frustration, running a hand through her hair. "Just stay away from me, Aman. I don't want your concern, I don't want your kindness, and I don't want you."

She turned and stormed past me, heading toward the stairs. I watched her retreating figure, my heart heavy.

I had promised Dada Ji that she would never be taken from me. But standing there, watching her leave, I realized something.

She already had been. And I'd stop at nothing to bring her back.

3rd Person

Aman stood frozen in place, his hands still tingling from where he had held her. His chest tightened, the weight of her words pressing down on him.

He had faced countless challenges, battles that tested his will, but nothing compared to this—watching her slip further and further away.

Prabh didn't spare him another glance as she disappeared up the stairs, her footsteps fading into the silence of the house.

He exhaled sharply and raked a hand through his hair. He had promised himself that he wouldn't give them a reason to take her away.

But what if she was already planning to leave?

Aman clenched his jaw, his fists tightening at his sides. No.

He wouldn't let that happen.

She could hate him all she wanted. She could push him away, throw every sharp word like a dagger to his chest.

But he would fight.

For her.

For them.

For the love she refused to believe could exist between them.

Taking a deep breath, Aman turned toward his own room, knowing sleep would never come tonight.

Because for the first time in his life, he was truly afraid. He couldn't afford to loose her.

Aman barely made it to his room before the exhaustion settled into his bones. He sat on the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his mind replaying every word Prabh had thrown at him.

He had expected resistance. He had expected anger. But the way she looked at him—like he was nothing, like she wanted nothing to do with him—that was what tore through him the most.

A bitter chuckle left his lips. He had spent years commanding respect, making men cower with a single look. Yet, the one person he wanted to reach wouldn't even let him close.

The soft creak of a door opening snapped him from his thoughts. He glanced up. His room was dimly lit, but the hallway outside remained dark. Still, he heard it—footsteps, light and hesitant, like someone was unsure whether to stay or leave.

Prabh.

His pulse quickened. Was she coming back?

He pushed off the bed, taking slow steps toward the door, afraid that if he moved too fast, he'd scare her away.

Then he heard it—her shaky breath, followed by the sound of something sliding down against the wall.

Aman's fingers curled around the doorknob, but he didn't open it. Instead, he pressed his forehead against the wood, listening.

She was sitting there. Just outside his door.

Why?

His chest tightened, an unfamiliar ache spreading through him. He could hear the tremor in her breaths, the way she was trying to steady herself.

She was hurting.

And he couldn't do a damn thing about it.

Aman closed his eyes, his hand tightening around the doorknob. He wanted to open it. He wanted to pull her into his arms, to make her understand that no matter how much she fought him, she wasn't alone.

But she didn't want that.

Didn't want him.

So he stayed there, silent, listening to the quiet pain in her breath, letting the distance between them grow deeper—even as his heart screamed for him to break it.