Sanjeev flinched, instinctively stepping back. His voice trembled as he stammered, “Varun sir… are you trying to get me killed? That’s the Little Boss—the Boss’s son! How could you even think of linking his name with mine? Has someone paid you to have me eliminated?”
Varun froze, disbelief and shock flickering across his striking features.
In the entire world, there was only one man Sanjeev ever addressed as “Boss”—Vidyut. If he was calling this breathtakingly beautiful child the Boss’s son, the implication was undeniable: the boy standing before him was none other than the son of his elder brother. But… how could that be?
Varun was jolted from his thoughts when Aayansh abruptly shook off his hand and spoke in a low, icy tone, “Don’t dare to touch me. I don’t like anyone’s touch except my daddy’s and mamma’s—so keep your distance.”
The words left Varun momentarily numb. His gaze sharpened, studying the boy closely.
The refined, sharp-cut features… the piercingly beautiful blue eyes… Aayansh was the very image of Vidyut. And now, with a more discerning eye, Varun began to notice the similarities in temperament as well—the same quiet dominance, the same chilling composure. It was like staring at a smaller, more delicate version of his monopolist devil of a brother.
Questions swirled in his mind, tangling with a rush of emotions. Yet, pushing them aside, he asked gently, “Who is your mamma? Is she here with you?”
At that, Aayansh’s focus shifted instantly back to his most urgent mission.
He had been awake for an hour, searching relentlessly for Maya and Vidyut. Neither was anywhere to be found, and the servants offered only evasive answers. His patience was thinning; finding them had become not just important, but essential—a mission he was determined to complete.
Pursing his small red lips, he replied with quiet innocence, “My mamma… she’s disappeared. I’ve been looking for her everywhere for the past hour, but she’s nowhere to be found. What should I do now? Where do I look? I’m starting to get angry.”
His voice, as always, was soft yet cold. But at the mention of Maya, the frost in his eyes melted into tenderness.
Varun’s lips curved despite himself. The way Aayansh had said, “I’m starting to get angry” was disarmingly cute. And with that tiny frown, he looked both adorable and unintentionally funny. Varun tried to hold back his laughter, but failed.
The quiet chuckle, however, wiped the softness from Aayansh’s gaze. His blue eyes sharpened to icy steel.
He turned his cold glare on Sanjeev, his voice laced with warning. “Mr. Sanjeev, this is your final warning. If you don’t tell me where my mamma and daddy are, I’ll feed you to my pet, Shadow. Fresh human flesh happens to be his favorite.”
The threat sent a shiver down Sanjeev’s spine. He knew exactly what “Shadow” was—a wild, ferocious black panther.
Rocky had once told him that, on Aayansh’s command, Shadow had bitten a servant’s hand clean off. Sanjeev would be a fool to take such a warning lightly. Yet, defying Vidyut’s orders was equally impossible. His mind raced, scrambling for an excuse.
But Aayansh noticed the hesitation. His gaze narrowed further. His father’s subordinates clearly had no fear of him—something he intended to correct.
After overhearing the exchange between Ayansh and Sanjeev, Varun let his sharp, curious gaze sweep across the living area. It didn’t take long for his eyes to find Vidyut.
Vidyut emerged from the direction of the indoor swimming pool, phone in hand. A white towel hung loosely around his waist, his bare torso still damp, beads of water clinging to his skin. His hair was wet, as though he had just stepped out of the shower.
The moment Varun saw him, he called out, “Big brother! I must have called you a dozen times. Why didn’t you answer?”
Without so much as a glance in his direction, Vidyut replied coolly, “I was busy.”
Sanjeev exhaled in relief. Finally, the elder devil had arrived—surely to shield him from the wrath of the younger one.
At the sound of Vidyut’s voice, Ayansh turned sharply toward him. Yet instead of going to him, the boy simply stood there, glaring from a distance with frosty defiance.
Under the weight of everyone’s attention, Vidyut walked into the center of the room.
Varun’s hesitant gaze never left him. His eyes brimmed with questions he didn’t dare ask. He was only a year younger than Vidyut, and they had grown up under the same roof. They were cousins, but speaking to Vidyut had always carried a certain weight—a hesitation that had lingered since childhood.
It wasn’t about hostility. It was about him. Vidyut’s cold, distant nature made conversation with him an uphill climb. Over time, that difficulty had shifted into fear, and the family had learned to keep their distance.
Vidyut’s eyes slid to Ayansh. He made a subtle hand gesture, his voice even colder than before. “Come here.”
Ayansh had no desire to obey, but with so many people watching, he lowered his head and walked over.
Bending slightly, Vidyut asked, “When did you wake up?”
“An hour ago.”
Vidyut said nothing more. Instead, he bent down, caught Ayansh by the collar, and lifted him easily into his arms.
Resting his small head on Vidyut’s shoulder, Ayansh murmured in a low, icy voice, “Daddy, I’m angry. I’m very angry.”
Vidyut’s brows drew together. “May I know why?”
Ayansh’s eyes flicked toward Sanjeev, sharp as a blade. Lifting a tiny finger, he pointed straight at him. “That subordinate of yours—I don’t like him. He’s not scared of me. He doesn’t respect me. And he never greets me.”
Sanjeev’s eyes narrowed. The kid might be his devil boss’s son, but expecting him to be afraid of a two-and-a-half-year-old? That was pushing it.
Vidyut, however, considered the complaint in silence. Then he turned to Sanjeev and said flatly, “From now on, you’ll fear my son, you’ll respect him, and you’ll greet him.”
“Yes, boss.”
Satisfied, Vidyut looked back to Ayansh. “Better now?”
A hint of pride swelled in the boy’s tiny chest. He liked that his father gave weight to his anger.
“A little,” he admitted. “But not completely. I’m still angry at you. Where have you kept my mamma? I want to see her.”
Vidyut didn’t answer this time. He only patted his son’s back and turned his attention to Varun.
Varun watched the scene, stunned. Vidyut’s manner toward Ayansh was still cold, yet beneath that chill lay a quiet warmth—a softness he had never seen in him before.
It was the first time in his life he’d witnessed his elder brother not only talking to someone at length but doing so with… care. Normally, Vidyut barely spoke to anyone. Some days, he wouldn’t utter a single word in the house. He was unlike anyone else in the family—so much so that calling him alien wouldn’t be far from the truth.
No one in the Singhania family understood why he was so different. They only knew that his difference inspired fear.
“Go wait for me in the study,” Vidyut told Varun in his usual frost-edged tone. “I’ll be there shortly.”
“Yes, big brother.”
Varun obeyed without hesitation and left for the study.
Vidyut carried Ayansh into his bedroom, stepped into his expansive closet, and retrieved clothes for both himself and Maya. Then, with Ayansh still in his arms, he returned to the glass room.
________________________
What happens next…?
To Know…
To be continued…
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His Enigmatic bride
Mystery / ThrillerVidyut Singhania is a name that strikes fear across the globe. Known as a ruthless devil, his mere presence sends shivers down spines, including those of his own family. But after a catastrophic car accident leaves him in a coma, everything changes...
