" 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐡 "
Advait Agnihotry... He was my pride.
My heart.
The reason I breathed.
But now... now for the first time in my life-I qu...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
" Desired or not it's mine "
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
“Son,” my father called out to me while sipping his chai.
I turned my head in his direction and gave him a small nod, signaling him to continue.
“You’re sure about this?” he asked, and the concern was clear on his face. Aditya Agnihotry—the man the world saw as a devil, a ruthless figure with a carefully built image—looked different here. This was the side of him only we, his family, got to see. Soft, warm, protective.
My father was exceptional, a man who handled a thousand things at once. And I could say it without hesitation—I was nowhere near his league.
“Yes, Dad,” I answered calmly. But I could see he wasn’t satisfied with that answer.
We didn’t talk much these days. It had been years since I’d looked at him like he was my hero, or spoken to him like I was still his little boy. Maybe I’d just grown up. Maybe that part of me was gone.
Aarav might be an unhinged psychopath, but at least he craved attention. He wanted our mother’s and father’s eyes on him, even if it meant flipping our lives upside down.
The funny thing is, no one outside would believe it if I described him that way. He carried his own aura, a presence people couldn’t read. He might act like he doesn’t care about anything—and often, he really doesn’t—but when it comes to family, it’s different.
“I’m concerned about Diya, not you,” my father said bluntly.
Of course.
I narrowed my eyes at him. He gave me one of his rare, playful smirks, and despite myself, I shook my head.
“Khush rakhna use,” he commanded, his tone turning stern. No one ever dared defy Aditya Agnihotry when he spoke like that.
“I’ll,” I replied. A lie.
He nodded and stood from the couch. I already knew where he was going—to his work, the news, or back to my mother to spend the rest of his evening with her. That’s what he always did.
I turned to head for my room but was stopped by a voice.
“Bhai,” Aarav called out.
“Yes?” I looked at him, already bracing myself. If he was here just to kill time, he’d earn himself a punch.
“Crossway.”
Have I ever mentioned how much I hate his one-word replies? They’re infuriating.
I raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for more.
“Rohan called.”
Fucker.
“I have to go to the office. The final report still isn’t out,” I said, hoping he’d leave me alone. But who was I kidding? If Aarav wants something, he’ll get it—silently, like a predator. He might not talk much, but he’s an unrelenting bastard of a brother.
