As days stretched into weeks, the fruitless pursuit of Samyukta's whereabouts weighed heavily on Abhimanyu's shoulders. Despite his efforts to maintain a facade of normalcy in front of his family, the silence from her end echoed louder than any words exchanged between them.

Nandini diligently kept a check on him, her inquiries probing if there had been any attempts at contact. Yet, his response remained unchanged—no.

I've made the biggest mess of my life.

The day Nandini let him know that Samyukta was in London, he immediately reached out to his business contacts and their mafia allies to trace her location. To his surprise, none of them could pinpoint her whereabouts. It was baffling that such powerful entities couldn't track her down. Who could be covering for her? Samrat? If Samrat knew, he would have mentioned something during their frequent business calls. They talked often, and if he was aware of the issue between Samyukta and him, he surely would have brought it up. But Samrat hadn't uttered a word.

Summoning the courage to confront Shree just a couple of days after returning him, Abhimanyu had hoped for solace, a shred of understanding in the tumult of emotions that besieged him. Instead, her accusations pierced through his defenses, leaving him questioning his own actions with a newfound clarity.

Two days after returning from Bangalore

"You know what condition she was in here? She was ruined. Her face screamed that. She left you for good, bhai sa. I'm sorry, but you've been too selfish. I cannot believe you did this. This was not expected from you."

Each word pierced through Abhimanyu like a dagger, tearing at the very fabric of his being. He felt the weight of Shree's disappointment bearing down on him, a burden he knew he deserved yet struggled to bear.

"I had assured her that you'll always be there for her and that you're a gentleman. She believed me and believed you, so she agreed to marry you happily. In fact, during your courtship period, you didn't spend time with her. But did she hesitate to marry you? Did she complain or question why you didn't spend time with her? You were in Italy, and she was here arranging everything for the wedding preparations. You just arrived before the wedding. Still, she didn't say anything and got married to you. Now, I think that it was her who was into the relationship, not you. You just took her for granted, enjoying all she did for you without gratitude. And suddenly, when her family, your family, needed her, you felt she doesn't care."

Tears welled up in Abhimanyu's eyes, blurring his vision as guilt and regret consumed him. He longed to turn back time, to rewrite the chapters of their story with a different ending, one where he cherished her as she deserved.

"I know I'm wrong, Shree..." he whispered, his voice barely audible amidst the tumult of emotions raging within him.

"Yes, you're wrong. You hurt her. You hurt my friend. I never thought you could do this. I looked up to you, bhai sa..." Shree's voice trembled with a mixture of anger and disappointment, leaving Abhimanyu with a sense of profound shame.

Her heart clenched painfully at the sight of her brother, once a pillar of strength, now shattered before her. Abhimanyu, who had always stood tall and regal, commanding respect and instilling a sense of security in their family and the people of their state, now appeared fragile and vulnerable. It was as if the weight of his own actions had stripped away the facade of invincibility, revealing the raw vulnerability beneath.

"Bhai sa," her voice trembled with emotion as she spoke, her words laced with concern and sorrow. "She was in tears when I asked if you both were doing well, yet she didn't confide in me about anything going on between you both. She values you and this relationship so much that she wanted to uphold its privacy from me - her Shree."

Her fingers gently grasped his shoulders, her touch tender yet urgent, as if she were trying to rouse him from a deep slumber. She searched his eyes, hoping to penetrate the walls he had erected around his heart, to reach the vulnerable core that lay beneath the surface. But his gaze remained downcast, his shoulders weighed down by the burden of his own actions.

In that moment, she wished she could shoulder his pain, bear the weight of his regrets, and offer him solace in the midst of his turmoil. But she knew that healing would come only from within, from confronting the truths he had long sought to evade.

You'll go to her, right? You'll ask her for forgiveness, bhai sa," Abhishree's voice wavered, her concern evident in every syllable.

"Of course, Shree..." His voice quivered with emotion, his resolve firm despite the tremor of uncertainty that lingered beneath the surface. "I cannot bear this feeling anymore. Even if she asks me to leave, I'll fall at her feet and beg for her forgiveness. I know she loved me, and even now, she does."

Abhishree was taken aback by this sudden transformation in her brother's demeanor. A man of principles who never bowed his head in front of anybody was now willing to humble himself before his wife, to acknowledge his faults and seek redemption in her eyes. In that moment, she realized the depth of his remorse and the sincerity of his intentions, and she prayed that his repentance would pave the way for reconciliation and healing in their fractured relationship.

After their encounter in the Chauhan mansion, Abhimanyu was on the brink of departing when he unexpectedly crossed paths with Samrat

"Kaisa hai bhai? Bangalore se kab aya?" Samrat inquired, feigning ignorance about the unfolding situation.

"Do din pehle." Abhimanyu replied softly, his gaze avoiding Samrat's. He felt the weight of guilt pressing down on him for causing pain to his best friend's sister—his wife.

"Hmm...Samyukta se baat hui hai?" Samrat pressed, draping an arm around Abhimanyu's shoulder.

"Nahi."

"Kyun?"

"Aise hi...busy hain hum dono...isiliye..."

"Itna busy ki apne biwi ka dyaan nhi rakh pa rha hai?" Samrat's tone carried a sharp edge of sarcasm.

Abhimanyu remained silent, and so did Samrat.

As he walked away toward the mansion's parking lot, preparing to drive off, Samrat stood watching with a smirk dancing on his lips.

You hurt my sister. I'll make sure you repay. Hell with our brotherhood of years. I swear to god, I'll make sure you suffer.

BACK IN THE MANSION

Returning from the Chauhan mansion, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled heavily within me. Despite the warm greetings from my in-laws, I found myself consumed by thoughts of the disappointment I had surely become to their daughter.

How much longer until they uncover the truth about my shortcomings? 

The anticipation of facing my in- laws and not only mine but my sister's in-laws filled me with dread. I knew all too well that I would be seen as a source of shame in their eyes, a stain on the reputation of their family. The knowledge weighed on me like a burden too heavy to bear.

They had placed their trust in me, entrusting me with their daughter's happiness. Yet, I had failed them miserably, driving her away with my own selfishness and insecurities.

Vikram's call jolted me out of my reverie, bringing with it a revelation that struck like lightning. He explained how she was utilizing a VoIP system on her phone, rendering her traceable despite my efforts to stay updated on her whereabouts. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks - how had she come to know about this system?

The shock rippled through me, leaving me grasping for answers in a sea of uncertainty. It was a troubling revelation, raising questions about her intentions and motives. 

Had she deliberately taken steps to make herself untraceable, or was it merely a coincidence? 

The fear clawed at me like a relentless predator as Vikram's words sank in. What if she wasn't in the UK at all?  

The urgency in my veins propelled me into action as I scrambled to formulate a plan. My mind raced with a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more frantic than the last. I needed to inform my father, to seek his guidance.

I imediately pulled out my phone from my pocket and tapped his number. 

But even as I dialed his number, a chilling realization gripped me like a vise. 

What if she was in danger? 

What if the stalker had found her, and she was unable to reach out for help? 

Panic threatened to consume me as I grappled with the terrifying possibilities.

I couldn't afford to waste a single moment. With a sense of urgency driving me forward, I resolved to mobilize my resources and spare no effort in locating her. She might not have reached out to anyone yet, but I refused to entertain the notion of leaving her to face this ordeal alone.

With determination coursing through my veins, I set out to enlist my father's support, steeling myself for the difficult conversation that lay ahead. Whatever the cost, I would stop at nothing to ensure her safety and well-being.

"Namaste Pita sa." I spoke as he hummed a hello from the other side of the call.

"Namaste, Abhimanyu. Batao bete kya baat hai?" 

"Ji, aapse milna hai humein."

"Lawn me hain. Ajao."

"Akele milna hai humein, pita sa." 

"Thik hai apne office me milo."

"Ji." 

I was staying in my office, unable to enter our bedroom. The moment I opened the door, her scent would hit me, and tears would automatically well up in my eyes. My mother had noticed me sleeping in the office, but she said nothing.

After some time, my father arrived.

"Bolo, beta," my father prompted as he settled himself on the brown couch.

"Pita sa, bahut kuch hogya hai," I began, my voice trembling.

"Matlab?" he asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

"Matlab, aapki bahu...Samyukta...humein chhod kar chali gayi hain," I admitted, feeling a wave of shame wash over me.

"Pata hai humein," he said calmly.

I was shocked. I thought he was unaware. 

Had Mom told him?

"Kaise pata aapko?" I asked, incredulous.

"Arey! Bete ho humare! Pala posa, bachpan se bada kiya hai tumhe! Chehra dekh k sab pata chal jata hai. Tumhe kya laga hum tumpar dhyaan nahi dete?"

"Aisi baat nahi hai, Pita ji..."

"Pata hai humein ki tumhe bachpan se kathor hone par majboor kiya hai. Par aisi baat nahi hai ki kabhi pyaar se dekha nahi hai. Humesha pyaar se dekha hai shayad dikhaya kam hai."

His words pierced my soul. I've always had this thought in my mind that my father was more concerned about the future succession of the mafia and, of course, the business than about me as his son. I knew he loved me, and still does, but the situation forced us to hide our softer sides from each other. The weight of responsibility and expectations created a barrier, making our interactions formal and distant. Yet, in this moment, his words revealed a depth of understanding and care I had longed for but never felt. It was a bittersweet realization that despite the harsh exterior, his love had always been there, watching over me, guiding me silently.

I didn't have anything to say except to nod.

"Samrat ko pata hai Samyukta kahan hai," he said suddenly.

"Kya?" I was shocked by this new revelation.

"Samrat ko pata hai bahu kahan hai," he repeated.

I shook my head in disbelief. "Aapko kaise malum?"

"Humse baat karte samay humne unse baat nikalwayi aur unhe pata bhi nahi chala."

That's why he was the head of our mafia. He was a man of wisdom who could silently execute everything without letting anyone know and then suddenly drop the bomb. I admired his attitude so much.

I immediately decided to have my men keep an eye on Samrat.

˜”*°•°*”˜