Sacred Games Of Twisted Fate {18+}

**JUST LIKE HER **

***Author's pov***

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YOU ARE MY HOME

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The car slowed as Arjun's secretary informed him over the intercom, "Sir, the roads are blocked due to heavy snowfall. It's impossible to return tonight. I've arranged for a nearby hotel."

Arjun nodded curtly, the tension in his face unwavering. "Fine. Ensure the arrangements are made. I don't want any inconvenience."

In the backseat, Aayara clutched her hands together, her heart pounding as she looked at him. Her voice came out in a broken whisper. "H-he needs me... Abhi needs me. He's just a child. Please, I... I want to go home."

Arjun's jaw tightened at her plea. He turned to her, his piercing gaze locking with hers, and leaned closer. "I am your home," he said coldly, his voice laced with authority. "And he is mine too, isn't he?"

Aayara swallowed hard, her lips trembling, unable to respond as his words hung heavily in the air. His tone left no room for argument, yet his claim stirred something deep within her-a mix of fear, confusion, and a strange pull she couldn't explain.

The car came to a stop outside a luxurious hotel. Snow blanketed the streets, and the cold winter night wrapped the world in an eerie silence. Arjun stepped out first, his tall figure cutting through the frosty air, his coat billowing slightly with the wind. He gestured for her to follow, his men ensuring no one approached them.

Aayara hesitated, clutching her shawl tightly, her thoughts consumed with Abhimanyu. But the steely determination in Arjun's eyes left her no choice. She stepped out, her legs weak beneath her, and followed him into the grand hotel lobby.

The warmth inside was in stark contrast to the icy exterior, but it did nothing to melt the tension between them. Arjun's men lingered at a distance as he led her toward the reception desk. He didn't even need to speak; the staff quickly handed him the keys, bowing with respect.

As they entered the elevator, Aayara's breathing quickened. The enclosed space, his overwhelming presence, and the weight of the situation made her head spin. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, trying to gauge his mood, but his expression remained unreadable, his eyes fixed straight ahead.

When they reached their suite, Arjun opened the door and stepped inside. He turned to her, his voice low but commanding. "You'll stay here. Don't think about running again, Aayara. I won't allow it."

She froze, her hands trembling as she stepped into the lavish room. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, but one thing was clear-there was no escape, not tonight.

Arjun walked into the adjoining room where his staff were in a frenzy, trying their best to calm the crying baby. The sound of Abhimanyu's wails filled the room, echoing off the walls and pricking at something buried deep within him.

"Sir," his assistant said nervously, stepping aside, "he won't stop crying, no matter what we do."

Arjun stood there for a moment, his cold demeanor faltering as he watched the tiny boy in the arms of one of his men. The baby's face was red, his cries sharp and unrelenting. Something inside Arjun shifted. He stepped forward, his presence commanding, and held out his hands. "Give him to me."

The staff hesitated for a brief second before gently placing Abhimanyu in Arjun's arms. His usually steady hands trembled slightly as he cradled the small, fragile boy. Abhimanyu squirmed and fussed, but as Arjun adjusted his grip, the cries softened. He stared at the baby, taking in his delicate features-the same dark eyes, the familiar curve of his lips, and the tiny fists clenched in protest. There was no denying it. This was his son.

For a moment, the world around Arjun seemed to fade. His hardened exterior cracked just enough to let a sliver of vulnerability show. He gently ran a finger over Abhimanyu's tiny hand, and the baby, as if sensing the connection, clutched it tightly. Arjun's breath hitched, and an unfamiliar warmth spread through his chest.

"He... he's stubborn, just like her," Arjun muttered to himself, his lips curving into the faintest smile before it disappeared, replaced by a somber expression.

The assistant observed the rare sight, unsure whether to comment or stay silent. Arjun turned to him, his voice firm once more. "Bring his things here. I'll handle him myself. Leave us."

The staff exchanged glances but obeyed without question, quickly exiting the room. Now alone with his son, Arjun sat down on the edge of a plush armchair, still holding Abhimanyu close. The baby's cries had reduced to soft hiccups, his tiny face buried against Arjun's chest.

"You're just like your mother," Arjun whispered, his voice low. "Always making things difficult... always running away." He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he continued to study the child in his arms.

Despite his anger at Aayara and the storm brewing within him, a new emotion began to take root-a fierce, protective instinct for the little boy who had unknowingly stolen a piece of his heart.