The boardroom of Singhania Group of Companies was buzzing with voices, the long glass table gleaming under the bright ceiling lights. Files, laptops, and project reports were scattered neatly before the members. Kabir sat at the head of the table, his sharp eyes scanning every word, every detail, his mind fully engrossed in the presentation. His aura commanded seriousness—leaning slightly forward, pen tapping rhythmically against the file in front of him as he questioned and nodded at the members one by one.

But beside him, Ananya sat too still. Her fingers rested on the pen but she hadn’t turned a page for a long time. Her gaze was fixed on the screen in front of her, but her mind was far away.

"I’m back, Ms. Rathore…"

That message echoed like a warning bell inside her head. Her jaw tightened, her breathing shallow, as if the walls of the boardroom were pressing closer.

Kabir’s sharp eyes flicked toward her. He had known her for years—he could read her silence more than her words. And right now, her silence was screaming.

Without another thought, Kabir closed the file in front of him with a soft thud.

“Let’s end the meeting here itself,” he said firmly.

The members looked at each other, confused. Some opened their mouths to protest, but one look from Kabir was enough. They gathered their files and laptops, murmuring among themselves as they left the boardroom one by one.

Now, it was only Kabir and Ananya. The sudden quiet was deafening.

Kabir leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, his gaze pinned on her.

“What happened, Anu?” his voice was calm but edged with concern. “Everything alright?”

Ananya blinked, as if waking up from a trance. She forced a small smile, shaking her head.

“Yeah… yeah, everything’s fine.”

“Cut the crap, Anu.” Kabir’s tone hardened, but his eyes softened. “I’ve seen you like this only a few times. Jo bhi hai… mujhe bata.”

Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her dupatta, eyes lowering to the table. The mask she always carried—the strong, untouchable Mrs. Singhania—was slipping.

“Nothing, Kabir… bas… bas kuch purani baatein yaad aa gayi,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Kabir leaned forward, his voice lowering.

“Purani baatein… ya phir koi purana insaan?”

Her eyes snapped to his. For a second, the strong CEO vanished, and only Ananya—the woman fighting her past—remained.

Ananya’s throat went dry, her fingers tightening into a fist on the table. After a long silence, she finally whispered, her voice trembling despite her effort to stay calm,

“I think… he is back.”

Kabir’s jaw clenched instantly, his knuckles going white as his hands gripped the armrest of his chair. His eyes hardened, that playful spark completely gone.

“Anu…” he said slowly, his voice carrying both anger and worry, “are you sure?”

She nodded faintly, her eyes clouded. “Woh message… it couldn’t be anyone else, Kabir. Only he calls me Ms. Rathore.”

The tension in the room thickened. Kabir ran a hand through his hair in frustration, exhaling sharply.

“Damn it… I knew one day this ghost would return. But listen to me carefully, Anu.” He leaned forward, his eyes locking with hers. “You don’t have to worry. Not this time. You’re not alone. We are here with you. Dec hai, mai hoon , poori family hai. He won’t touch you.”

Ananya’s lips trembled into a faint smile, but her eyes betrayed the storm inside. “Kabir… agar sach mein woh laut aaya… toh sirf mujhe hi nahi, sabko khatra hoga.”

Kabir shook his head firmly, slamming his palm lightly against the table.

“Enough! Don’t you dare put this on yourself, samjhi? Jo kuch hua tha… usmein teri koi galti nahi thi. Agar woh phir se apni hadh paar karega…” his voice dropped, dangerous and protective, “toh iss baar Dev usse khud khatam kar dega.”

Ananya’s breath hitched, her voice low but firm as she said,

“Kabir… don’t tell this to Devansh. Please. I don’t know what he will do to him if he finds out.”

Kabir narrowed his eyes, anger flashing in them. “Aur agar main keh dun Dev ko? Ek hi baar mein kissa khatam ho jayega uska. No more fear, no more messages.”

Ananya shook her head immediately, her eyes glistening with both fear and determination. “Haan, kissa toh khatam ho jayega uska… lekin main?” Her voice cracked for a moment before she steadied it. “Main puri zindagi aise nahi reh sakti, Kabir. Mujhe khud face karna hoga usse. Mujhe khud hi khatam karna hoga yeh sab.”

Kabir looked at her in disbelief. “Anu, tu samajhti bhi hai tu kya keh rahi hai? Woh aadmi normal insaan nahi hai. Tere saath jo hua tha…” He stopped, biting back the rest of his words, his jaw tightening. “Main tujhe dobara us dard se guzarne nahi doonga.”

Ananya’s lips curved into a faint, broken smile. “Aur main bhi apni family ko iss dard se bachana chahti hoon, Kabir.”

Kabir leaned back in his chair, frustration evident, his fists clenched. “You’re too stubborn, Anu. But remember one thing—if he dares to come even a step closer to you, main khud usse khatam kar dunga. Aur iss baar mujhe koi nahi rok paayega.”

Ananya looked at him silently for a moment, then whispered, “Main sambhal loongi, Kabir. Mujhe karna hi hoga.”

____________________________________________________________________________________

Ananya sat cross-legged on the plush sofa, her dupatta slipping slightly from her shoulder as she leaned forward, pen in hand, eyes scanning over the heavy stack of files in her lap. Her bare feet brushed against the cool marble floor, her heels discarded carelessly beside the sofa. Her brows knitted in deep concentration, lips pressed into a thin line, every bit the picture of a woman who carried the weight of an empire with quiet grace.

A soft knock broke her focus. Without raising her gaze, she said in a calm, clipped tone, “Come in.”

The door opened, and Piya stepped inside with her usual poised efficiency.

“Mam, the manager of VMK Industries is here to discuss about the upcoming joint project’s financial proposal.”

Ananya gave a small nod, her eyes still fixed on the papers. “Alright. Send him in.”

“Yes, Mam.” Piya bowed her head lightly and exited.

Ananya adjusted the files on her lap, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her attention already sinking back into numbers and projections.

The door creaked open again. The faint echo of slow, deliberate footsteps filled the room. She didn’t look up immediately, assuming it was just another meeting, another routine discussion.

But then, a smooth, mocking voice cut through the silence.

“Hello, Ms. Rathore… Hope you missed me.”

Her pen slipped from her fingers. Her body stiffened, breath caught mid-air. Slowly, almost unwillingly, her gaze lifted.

And the world around her seemed to freeze.

There he stood.

Ranvijay Khurana.

The man she had buried deep in the shadows of her past. Tall, broad-shouldered, his dark tailored suit fitting him like a second skin. His hair slicked back, his smirk sharp and cruel, the glint in his eyes predatory—as if he had been waiting all these years for this exact moment.

Ananya’s blood ran cold. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, but outwardly her face was pale, her body frozen as though time itself had betrayed her. For a fleeting second, the confident CEO of Rathore Industries and CISO of Singhania company disappeared, replaced by the broken girl of her past.

Her lips parted, but no words came.

Ranvijay’s smirk deepened, his hands casually sliding into his pockets as he took a step forward. “What happened, Ananya? Cat got your tongue? Or is it that old ghosts still have the power to silence you?”

Her fingers gripped the edge of the file tightly, knuckles turning white, but she forced her face into a mask, blinking away the shock.

“Ranvijay Khurana,” she finally whispered, her voice low but steady, though her chest burned with restrained emotions.

“Missed me, didn’t you?” he taunted, his voice dripping with arrogance.

Ananya’s eyes hardened instantly, her posture straightening, the CEO in her fighting back to the surface. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, though inside, her world was spinning.

Ananya’s gaze didn’t waver, though her heart screamed otherwise.

“What are you doing here, Ranvijay?” she asked coldly.

Ranvijay chuckled, tilting his head, his eyes shamelessly roaming around her office before landing back on her. “Straight to the point, as always. No ‘how have you been’? No courtesy for an old… friend?”

“You and I,” Ananya snapped, her tone sharp as a blade, “were never friends. Don’t fool yourself.”

His smirk widened, unfazed by her venom. He took a few leisurely steps toward her desk, leaning forward just enough to invade her space.

“Still that fire in you… I like it.” His eyes glittered with a twisted delight. “But I must admit, I was expecting something else. Maybe fear. Maybe tears. After all, it’s been years, hasn’t it?”

Ananya’s fingers tightened around the edge of the file on her desk, but she didn’t flinch. “If you came here to waste my time, let me remind you, Mr. Khurana, that I don’t have any to spare. State your business—or get out.”

He laughed, a deep, mocking sound that echoed off the cabin walls. “Oh, come on, Ananya. Is that how you greet a man who once meant… everything?”

Her jaw clenched, her voice sharp and steady. “You meant nothing. You are nothing.”

For the briefest moment, his smirk faltered, but then his expression hardened into something darker. He leaned closer, his voice dropping into a whisper laced with menace.

“Careful, Ananya. Words like that… they sting. And you know how I react when my ego gets bruised.”

Ananya rose from her seat, standing tall, her eyes fierce despite the storm brewing inside her. “Do your worst, Ranvijay. You couldn’t break me then. You won’t break me now.”

He tilted his head, studying her, a cruel grin curling on his lips. “We’ll see about that.”with that he left.

Ranvijay’s smirk lingered in Ananya’s mind long after the door closed behind him. The room felt suffocating, the silence heavy, oppressive. She sank back onto her sofa, trying to steady herself, but her breath was uneven, shallow. Her chest heaved as memories clawed their way up from the deepest corners of her mind.

The past she had buried so carefully, the trauma she had fought to lock away—it all came rushing back. The humiliation, the whispers, the accusations that had once haunted her relentlessly.

“You are a shame to your parents!”

“A characterless girl! No one will ever believe you!”

“How dare you defy me? You’ll regret this, Ananya!”

"No… no… this can’t happen… he… he…" Her hands trembled violently. Her voice quivered as she whispered incoherently to herself. She stumbled toward her desk, hands shaking so much that when she tried to fill her glass, water spilled over the edge, trickling down the table. Panic gripped her chest in a vise.

"No… no… not now… not now…"

The voices of her past echoed, louder this time, as if Ranvijay’s shadow had manifested in her mind. Each taunt, each insult reverberated with fresh venom.

“You are worthless!”

“Everyone knows what kind of girl you are!”

“No one will ever respect you!”

“ No one will ever accept you!”

“Stop… stop!” she screamed, but the words offered no relief. Her hands fumbled in desperation; the glass slipped entirely and shattered across the floor.

“No… no…” she whispered again, knees shaking, tears streaming down her face. Her bare foot stepped unknowingly onto a jagged shard. Pain should have shot through her, but she felt numb, disconnected, almost like her body had stopped registering it.

She sank to the floor, knees drawn to her chest, arms wrapped around herself as she tried, in vain, to calm her mind. The sobs racked her body, tearing from a place of deep, unhealed trauma.

Suddenly, a voice broke through the storm in her mind.

“Anu!!!”

Kabir’s face appeared before her, eyes wide with worry. He rushed forward and knelt beside her, gathering her trembling form into his arms. His hands rubbed her back gently, moving in slow, soothing circles.

“It’s okay… shanth ho ja… kuch nahi hua… I’m here… I’m right here, baccha,” he whispered, his voice steady and grounding. “Aur sab theek hai… Dev bhi yahan hai… nothing will happen… everything is fine. Take deep breaths… bas shanth ho ja, baccha. Everything is fine… kuch nahi hua.”

Ananya’s voice came out in fragmented sobs, barely coherent. “No… no… Kabir… he… he can do anything… he… he—”

“Shhh… kuch nahi hoga, baccha… Dev aur mai hu na… kuch nahi hoga,” Kabir soothed, pressing his palm against her back and caressing her head, trying to absorb all the fear and pain.

“Baccha…” he murmured again, rocking her gently, his presence a shield against the memories that threatened to consume her.

Footsteps approached—the soft but hurried sound of someone joining them. Rajveer’s towering figure knelt beside her, arms wrapping around her trembling frame. His embrace was solid, warm, and protective.

“Shh… baccha… it’s okay… dadda is here, na… shanth ho ja, baccha,” he whispered into her hair.

“Papa… woh… woh…” Ananya stammered through tears.

“Nothing will happen… mai hu na, baccha… kuch nahi hoga,” Rajveer soothed, pressing her close. She said nothing more, curling into his chest as sobs tore through her, finally letting herself be vulnerable, letting go of the strength she always carried alone.

“Shh… shanth ho ja… baccha,” Rajveer murmured, holding her tightly.

Kabir quickly moved to the washroom, returning moments later with a first aid kit. He knelt beside them, carefully removing the shards of glass embedded in her feet. His hands were firm yet gentle, precise with every movement to avoid causing more pain.

Ananya remained in her father’s arms, tears streaming freely, body trembling as if the trauma had been stored for years and released all at once. She eventually closed her eyes, exhausted and overwhelmed, and finally drifted into unconsciousness.

“Baccha?? Baccha!!” Rajveer voice cracked with panic.

Kabir looked up at him, determination hardening his expression. “Uncle… let’s take her home. I’ll call the doctor immediately.”

Rajveer nodded silently, holding onto her shoulder as Kabir gently lifted her into his arms. Her body was limp, trusting only the protective men around her. Slowly, they carried her out of the office, the weight of her fear still lingering in the air, but the warmth of their presence offering the first semblance of safety she had felt in years.

The grand hallway of the Singhania mansion echoed with Kabir’s hurried footsteps as he carried Ananya in his arms. Her body was limp, her face pale, lips slightly parted, eyes closed, a stark contrast to the vibrant, lively woman she always was.

Meenakshi was seated at the study table, engrossed in files, when the sound of hurried footsteps reached them. Her head snapped up , eyes widening in alarm as she saw Ananya being carried by Kabir. Panic immediately gripped in her heart.

“Ananya!” Meenakshi gasped, rising from her chair, her hands reaching out instinctively.

“What happened to her?” she asked, her voice taut with worry, stepping closer.

Kabir’s grip tightened slightly around her. “She… she had a panic attack, aunty. It’s… it’s severe this time.” His voice was calm but carried an undercurrent of urgency.

Meenakshi froze for a moment, the severity of the situation sinking in. Rajveer immediately pulled out his phone. “I’m calling Dr. Verma,” he said, voice tense but steady. “He’s her personal doctor—he’ll know exactly what to do.”

Kabir nodded and adjusted Ananya in his arms. “I’ll take her to her room, uncle. She’ll be safer there until he arrives.”

They moved swiftly down the corridor, Rajveer’s phone pressed to his ear. “Yes, doctor, it’s urgent… she’s unconscious. Panic attack… we need you immediately at the mansion.”

Ananya’s room was warm, quiet, and dimly lit. Kabir gently placed her on the bed, making sure she was lying comfortably on her back. He loosened her dupatta slightly, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. Her body trembled faintly, though her consciousness was nowhere near returning.

Meenakshi paced anxiously near the bed. “Kabir… she’s been fine all these years… why now?”

Rajveer knelt beside the bed, placing a steady hand on Ananya’s shoulder. “She’s been carrying a lot, Meenakshi. We knew this day might come, but…” His voice trailed off, the worry evident in his eyes.

Within minutes, the familiar sound of a car pulling into the driveway reached them. The doctor, Dr. Verma, her personal physician who had treated her for years, entered briskly, carrying his medical kit. His eyes immediately scanned Ananya’s condition, taking in her pale complexion, shallow breathing, and trembling hands.

“Clear the room,” he said calmly but firmly, his voice brooking no argument. “Give me space to work.”

Rajveer and Meenakshi stepped back immediately, leaving the doctor alone with Kabir and Ananya.

Dr. Verma’s hands were steady and precise as he examined her. He checked her pulse, monitored her breathing, and gently held her hands to assess the tremors. “She’s stable for now,” he said, his voice calm but laced with concern. “Her heart rate is elevated, but it’s within manageable limits. She’s in a deep panic-induced unconscious state, triggered by extreme stress and unresolved trauma.”

Kabir and her parents exchanged tense glances. “Will she wake up?” Meenakshi asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” Dr. Verma replied without hesitation. “But she needs time. This is her body’s way of forcing a pause after years of carrying emotional trauma without release. She’s reliving the moments she has suppressed, and her system simply shut down to protect itself.”

He carefully adjusted the blankets, making sure she was comfortable. “Keep her in a quiet, controlled environment. No sudden noises or stressors. Let her sleep. Don’t attempt to wake her forcibly. Give her time. Offer her comfort when she begins to stir—Kabir, Rajveer, Meenakshi, I trust you to do this. She’s vulnerable, but she’s strong. She’ll wake when she’s ready.”

Dr. Verma continued, “You must understand, this isn’t a sign of weakness—it’s a sign of exhaustion from the mental and emotional load she has been managing. She needs reassurance, patience, and space to regain control. Any confrontation or sudden reminders of her past could trigger another episode.”

He glanced at Kabir, his expression serious but kind. “Make sure she doesn’t feel alone. Her support system is crucial right now. Watch her hands, her breathing, and her responses. Small interactions, calm voices—nothing more.”

After a final check, Dr. Verma packed up his kit and turned to leave. “I’ll be on call. Monitor her. Call me immediately if there’s any change.”

Kabir, Rajveer, and Meenakshi watched him leave, the weight of the situation settling heavily upon them. Ananya lay still on the bed, unconscious, but in the arms of the people who loved her, surrounded by care and protection—the first real safety she had felt in years.

The room fell silent, except for the soft, uneven rise and fall of her chest, each breath a fragile promise that she would wake, and the storm inside her would someday calm.

Rajveer sat beside Ananya on the edge of the bed, gently caressing her hair. “My little girl…” he murmured, a tear slipping from his eyes as he watched her fragile form. His voice trembled with a mix of worry and helplessness.

Kabir placed a comforting hand on Rajveer’s shoulder. “She’s strong, uncle. She’ll get through this. We just need to be here for her,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving Ananya.

Meenakshi stood a little behind, trying desperately to hold back her own tears. Her hands clutched her dupatta as she whispered, “Stay strong… please stay strong, Anu.”

Kabir, standing close to Meenakshi, wrapped his arm around her shoulder, holding her tightly. “It’s okay, aunty. Everything is fine. She’s safe now. We’re all here with her,” he said, his voice calm but firm, trying to soothe both her and himself at the same time.

The room was filled with an uneasy silence, punctuated only by the soft rise and fall of Ananya’s chest and the quiet murmurs of her family. Each of them felt the weight of her pain, yet none dared speak too loudly, for fear of startling her.

Rajveer leaned closer, whispering to her hair, “You’re safe, baccha. Papa is here. Nothing will hurt you now.”

Meenakshi nodded, her gaze fierce yet gentle. “We’ll protect you, Anu. All of us, together.”

Kabir’s grip on Meenakshi tightened slightly. “She’s not alone. Not now, not ever. We’ve got her,” he said, as if making a silent vow to himself.

For the first time since the panic attack began, the room felt like a fortress of care, love, and protection—a safe haven where Ananya could, even unknowingly, begin to heal.

After a few hours, the steady breathing of Ananya began to shift. Her eyelids fluttered, as if fighting against a heavy weight pressing them down. Rajveer, still sitting beside her, noticed the subtle movement and held his breath.

“Baccha… wake up,” he whispered softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

Her fingers twitched slightly, curling around the soft bedsheets. Rajveer leaned closer, placing a comforting hand over hers. “It’s okay, Ananya. You’re safe now. We’re all here,” he said gently.

Kabir, standing nearby, kept his eyes locked on her, ready to react to any sudden movement. Meenakshi, her hand resting lightly on Ananya’s arm, whispered, “Take your time, baccha… no rush.”

Slowly, Ananya’s eyes opened, revealing a haze of confusion and lingering fear. Her gaze darted around the room before settling on the familiar faces surrounding her. Relief and love reflected in their eyes, but she could still feel the echo of panic within her chest.

Rajveer leaned in, his voice soft and steady. “Shh… Papa is here. Nothing is going to hurt you. Just breathe.” He guided her small, trembling hand to rest over his chest so she could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

Ananya’s lips trembled as she tried to form words, but only a soft whimper escaped. Rajveer gently stroked her hair and whispered, “It’s okay… you’re safe, Anu. Nothing is wrong.”

Kabir moved closer, his presence calm and reassuring. “We’re all here, baccha. Take as long as you need. No one’s leaving your side,” he said firmly, giving her a subtle sense of security.

The panic began to ebb slowly as Ananya’s breathing stabilized, the warmth of her family and Kabir grounding her. Her trembling hands relaxed, and she allowed herself to sink slightly into Harshad’s embrace.

Finally, with a soft, shaky sigh, she whispered, “I… I’m okay now.”

Meenakshi pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Yes, baccha. You’re okay. Mumma is here.”

Rajveer nodded, his eyes still glistening with concern. “We’ll take care of everything, Anu. Just focus on yourself now.”

Kabir smiled faintly, a quiet reassurance in his eyes. “Nothing can touch you as long as we’re here. Remember that.”

“Kuch nahi hoga tujhe, baccha… mai hu na,” Rajveer said gently, hugging Ananya tightly.

Ananya leaned into the hug, her body still trembling slightly, and whispered nothing, letting the warmth of his embrace calm her.

Meenakshi turned towards Kabir, a soft smile on her face. “She’s safe now. You can go and have some rest. We’ll stay with her. Don’t worry about her.”

“But… aunty,” Kabir protested, his gaze still fixed on his sister.

“Kabir, hum hai uske saath. Tu pareshan mat ho,” Meenakshi said firmly, taking Kabir hand in hers, her tone soothing yet assertive.

“Meenu is right, Kabir. Go and have some rest,” Rajveer added, giving Kabir a reassuring nod.

Kabir shook his head stubbornly. “No… I cannot leave her side. Not yet. What if she needs me?”

Ananya, hearing this, placed her hand gently on her brother's arm. Her voice soft but filled with a hint of warmth, she said, “Kabir… I’m okay now.” She gave a soft, reassuring smile.

Kabir looked at her, eyes still filled with concern, and then slowly nodded. “If you say so, Anu… but remember, I'm always here for you.”

Rajveer gave him a knowing glance and whispered, “See, Kabir… she’s in good hands. Trust us.”

Kabir finally sighed, giving in but still keeping a protective gaze on Ananya as he said, “Alright… but I’m not too far, understand?”

Meenakshi chuckled softly, “Don’t worry, Kabir. We’ve got her covered. Go rest. Seriously.”

Meenakshi smiled at Ananya, brushing a stray hair from her face. “Now, my little girl, relax… we’re right here. Everything will be fine.”

Ananya nodded slightly, closing her eyes for a moment and allowing herself to feel safe amidst the comforting presence of her family and Kabir.

Meenakshi quietly came and sat beside Ananya, her heart aching to see her little girl so fragile. She gently pulled Ananya closer, letting her head rest on her lap.

Ananya, like a child seeking comfort, leaned into her embrace. Meenakshi’s hand moved softly through her hair, her touch gentle and soothing, as if she could wipe away all the pain hidden in her daughter’s heart.

“Bas… meri gudiya… bas,” Meenakshi whispered, her voice low, filled with motherly warmth. “Ab so ja… main yahin hoon.”

Ananya’s eyelids fluttered, her breathing slowly evening out under her mother’s calming touch. The warmth, the security of her mother’s lap, was enough to break down the walls of her restless thoughts.

Within moments, Ananya drifted back into sleep, her face now peaceful, though faint traces of tears were still visible on her cheeks.

Meenakshi continued caressing her head, eyes moist but a soft smile tugging at her lips. She looked up at Rajveer and whispered, “See… meri gudiya bas pyaar chahti hai. Usko sirf yehi sukoon deta hai.”

Rajveer placed his hand on Meenakshi’s shoulder, nodding silently, both watching over their daughter as she slept soundly, safe in her mother’s embrace.

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