The Billionaire's Cure

•Chapter~45°

When she died, all thing soft and bright got buried inside him.

Author's POV

The room fell into a deafening silence, as if the very air itself was suffocating under the weight of malevolence. The trio's presence was a cancer, spreading darkness and fear with every passing moment.

The younger man stood tall, his eyes blazing with a fierce intensity, his jaw clenched in a snarl, he  sternly stared at the little black eyed soul.

Beside him, the woman's smile twisted into a cruel mockery, her eyes glinting with a sinister light that seemed to delight in the terror.

But it was the old man who was the most unsettling, his gaze piercing Arjun's very soul like a dagger, his eyes burning with an otherworldly intensity that seemed to strip the very fabric of reality bare.

The lady servant Akshara's heart pounded in her chest, her every instinct screaming at her to protect Arjun from this unholy trio. She shielded him with her body, her arms wrapping around him like a fortress, but even she couldn't quell the tremble that ran through her veins.

"S-sir p-please  forgive h-him just t-this time after all h-he is your s-son."

Akshara pleaded, her voice steady despite the fear that threatened to consume her. But her words fell flat, lost in the crushing weight of the trio's malevolent presence.

The younger man took a step closer, his eyes flashing with anger. The woman's smile grew wider, her eyes sparkling with sadistic pleasure.

And the old man... the old man simply continued to stare, his gaze piercing the very soul of Arjun,

As if daring him to cry and escape the fate that awaited him.

The young man, Abhimaan Singhania took steps closer to his son and gripped his delicate arm, his fingers digging deep into the tender skin. With a sudden jerk, he yanked Arjun forward, sending the packet of food tumbling to the floor.

"What's that Arjun?" His father voice was barely audible, his voice dripping with incredulity and rage.

Arjun didn't flinch, his tiny shoulder squared and in his eyes there wasn't even a glint of fear, they were bathed with a fierce determination.

"I didn't do anything wrong, dad. One day from our balcony, I saw so many people crying, their tummies were empty and their eyes were sad, so I wanted to make them smile and from a week, I've been taking the food packets from being thrown away, and giving it to those who need it, who beg for a bite."

Arjun's voice faded to a whisper, his eyes wide with innocence and trust. Abhimaan's face twitched, a flicker of emotion, but he remained silent.

"...I just wanted to help, dad."

His gaze searched his father's face, longing for approval, for a smile, for a nod of pride, but his father's expression remained stern, his eyes clouded with disappointment and his little heart ached as if pierced by a thousand arrows.

"You touched those wretched souls with your bare hands, didn't you stupid boy? And now you bring their disgusting stench to my palace!"

The old man's thunderous shout sent tremors through the air, Arjun's small body quivered and though tears lingered, his gaze didn't shift away from his grandfather's face.

"Grandfather they're people, just like us. Hungry, thirsty and tired, don't we have enough to s-share?" Arjun's voice barely above a whisper but the words were clear and steady.

In that moment, the old man saw something that gave him pause- a depth, a strength that defied his grandson's little age.

"Just like his mother, foolish!" He spat, his eyes blazing with indignation.