𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧

41⚚ His Arms

Shower me with comments pleaseee.......

Author POV:

Viraj kept comforting his baby with all the sweet nothings and gentle kisses, whispering against her skin, "Shh, baby, I'm right here. Always."

He ran his fingers through her hair, pressing soft kisses on her forehead, her temple, anywhere he could reach, hoping to ease the pain she was trying so hard to hold inside. He knew this was too much for her to process all at once.

Her father betrayed her. Her entire world had been a lie. But she wasn't breaking down. She was holding on. Fighting to stay strong. And Viraj had never been this prouder of her.

His baby, his vixen, his love. He hated that she had to go through this, but he would make sure she never had to suffer alone.

Amaira now came to terms with the fact that her father had sold her away, but somewhere deep in her heart, a small flicker of hope refused to die.

What if there was a reason? She wanted to believe that her father wasn't a cruel man, that there was more to the story than just betrayal. Was he forced? Was he manipulated? Or was he really the monster Viraj thought he was?

Her heart ached because, no matter what, the weight of this truth would always remain with her. And yet, she wasn't alone.

She had Viraj. She had her brothers. She had a family that chose her, not one that used her.

She sighed and looked up at Viraj with newfound peace in her eyes. "I am fine, Vijulu."

Viraj raised an eyebrow, searching her face for any cracks, but when she smiled softly and said, "As long as I have you and bhais, I will always have a family, Raj. And I know you will never let anything harm me," his heart nearly burst with pride.

She was everything to him—his light, his sanity, his home. Even after everything, she still chose to believe in love, in him. He had spent years believing he had to be the protector, the one who carried the weight of vengeance alone.

But here she was, proving that she was strong enough to carry herself. My baby is incredible, he thought, his adoration for her deepening.

He kissed her forehead, holding her close as he whispered, "I love you more than anything, baby. And you will always have me and our brothers with you. Forever."

Amaira hummed as she asked, "So now what are we gonna do, Vijulu?"

Viraj sighed, "I don't know, baby. That's why I kidnapped your father—to find some answers. But to my bad luck, he didn't open his mouth."

Amaira pouted, a slight frown tugging at her lips. "What about the girls' kidnapper?"

Viraj sighed again, this time heavier, as he turned his head to rest against her lap, her fingers gently threading through Viraj's thick, dark hair.

"The guy said something about a prince using girls for pleasure and then turning them into servants. Bhais tried everything to find a clue, but once again, we hit a dead end."

Amaira lifted his head slightly, adjusting herself against the headboard before guiding his head back onto her lap. Her fingers absentmindedly ran over his forehead, smoothing out the tension he constantly carried.

She lightly pushed his head into her stomach, making him sigh in content. "The one who planned all of this is deadly intelligent, Vijulu," she murmured, her mind racing.

"They didn't leave a single trace behind."

Viraj mumbled, his voice already thick with exhaustion, "No matter how intelligent they are, a murderer is a murderer, baby. They will leave at least one clue behind—we just have to search in the right place."