Chapter 71: Chapter Sixty Four.

Arjun made his way back down the stairs, his steps unhurried, his mind still lingering on Meera. As he approached the couch where he had left the small gift she had brought for him, something else caught his eye.

Meera’s phone.

He paused mid-motion, momentarily ignoring the gift as he picked up her phone instead. His fingers curled around it, and his brows drew together in displeasure.

"This is too cheap, will get her a better one." he muttered, his lips curling slightly. He turned the phone over in his hand, scoffing at its outdated model.

Just then, the device vibrated.

His gaze flickered to the screen.

A message from Jiya.

‘Are you back home?’

Arjun didn’t react immediately, just stared at the text with an expression of mild irritation. The phone vibrated again.

‘Are you okay?’

His jaw clenched. His thumb hovered over the screen for a moment before he typed a simple reply.

‘Yes.’

He pocketed the phone, thinking that would be the end of it, but within seconds, it vibrated again. He exhaled sharply, pulled it back out, and read the next message.

‘Are you okay? You don’t sound right.’

A muscle in his jaw ticked.

Then, the phone started ringing.

Arjun’s eyes darkened with impatience as he watched Jiya’s name flash across the screen. The persistent ringing grated on his nerves.

Annoyed, he pressed the power button, shutting the phone off completely.

Silence.

Satisfied, he tossed it onto the couch and finally reached for the small bag Meera had brought him. He slipped his fingers inside, pulling out a neatly wrapped little box. The wrapping was meticulous, thoughtful—so very her.

Slowly, he tore away the paper.

His gaze softened when he saw what was inside.

A beautifully crafted, shell-shaped keychain, covered in delicate crystals. A small thank-you note was attached to it, the handwriting unmistakably Meera’s.

Arjun traced the cool surface of the keychain with his thumb, an odd warmth spreading through his chest.

“She’s always so thoughtful.” he murmured, eyes lingering on the gift as he unfolded the note.

His lips curled into a rare smile.

But it didn’t last long.

His expression shifted back to something unreadable as he suddenly stood up, reaching for his phone.

Scrolling through his contacts, he searched for the number he needed, he was about to dial but he waited, his gaze darkening, then he stared at the entrance.

Meanwhile…

Mr. Ahuja had just arrived home from work.

His wife greeted him with a warm smile, taking his bag from him and shutting the door behind them.

“Welcome home.” she said. “Let me run your bath.”

He hummed in acknowledgment, starting to loosen his tie when something made him pause.

His brows furrowed.

“Where is Meera?” he asked, his voice edged with concern.

His wife glanced up. “She must still be at work.” she answered, but then noticed the frown deepening on his face.

He checked the time.

8:13 PM.

Meera never stayed this late at work.

“Did she call you to say she’d be late?” he asked, his unease growing.

His wife’s expression mirrored his concern now. “No… no, she didn’t.”

A tense silence settled between them before Mr. Ahuja pulled out his phone, quickly dialing Meera’s number.

His heart sank when he was met with a cold, automated voice.

The number you are trying to reach is currently switched off.

His wife’s face paled. “It’s off?”

He nodded, his grip tightening around his phone.

That wasn’t like Meera.

Something was wrong.

Mrs. Ahuja’s heart pounded against her ribs as anxiety gripped her.

Had Meera been kidnapped again?

A cold shiver ran down her spine at the mere thought.

Her husband, sensing her distress, clenched his jaw. He was about to call Jiya when the door bell rang...

Mrs. Ahuja let out a relieved sigh when the doorbell rang.

“That must be Meera.” she said, a smile breaking across her face as she hurried to open the door.

But when she pulled it open, her breath hitched.

Instead of her daughter, Arjun stood there.

Her body tensed immediately. His presence alone sent an unexplainable wave of fear coursing through her veins.

“A-Arjun?” she stammered, gripping the edge of the door for support.

He gave her a charming smile, one that didn’t quite reach his piercing eyes.

"Good evening, Mother-in-law” he greeted smoothly. “Can I come in?"

His voice was casual, too casual. As if he belonged there.

Mrs. Ahuja hesitated, glancing behind her at her husband. But Arjun’s dark gaze never wavered, and with trembling fingers, she stepped aside.

“Uh... yes, please come in.” she murmured.

Arjun stepped inside effortlessly, as though he had walked through that door a hundred times before.

The moment he entered, Mr. Ahuja’s head snapped up from the couch. His face hardened when he saw who it was.

Arjun smiled, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“Good evening, Father-in-law.”

Mr. Ahuja’s entire body stiffened at the title.

“Arjun?” he asked, his voice carrying a mixture of shock and suspicion.

"In flesh and blood." Arjun chuckled lightly, as if this were some casual visit between family.

Something about the ease with which he carried himself unsettled Mr. Ahuja.

Mrs. Ahuja stepped closer to her husband, her hand finding his arm.

Mr. Ahuja cleared his throat, trying to keep his tone neutral.

“T-That’s very good. By the way, how's your health? You helped save my daughter, and for that, I’m grateful.”

For a moment, silence stretched between them.

Then—chuckle.

Low, amused laughter that sent a chill through Mr. Ahuja’s bones.

“Why thank me, Father-in-law?” Arjun drawled, his tone teasing yet dangerously calm. “Meera is my life. Of course, I would always save her. And don’t worry, I am perfectly fine.”

There was something unsettling about the way he spoke. It wasn’t his words—it was the way he said them. Too relaxed. Too casual. Like he was toying with them.

Mr. Ahuja forced a tight smile, but his hands were clenched into fists.

“Okay, well... is there a reason why you’re here?” He wanted to cut the conversation short. Whatever Arjun was here for, it couldn’t be good.

But Arjun simply smirked, tilting his head slightly.

"Father-in-law, why so eager to chase me away?" he mused. His voice was warm, but the teasing beneath it was unmistakable. "Are you still scared of me?"

Mrs. Ahuja sucked in a sharp breath.

A tense silence fell over the room.

Mr. Ahuja stole a glance at his wife, her hands tightly clasped together.

He swallowed hard. “N-No.”

Arjun’s smirk deepened.

"Good." he murmured, his voice dropping into something softer, more insidious. "Because it wouldn't be very nice if you were scared of your daughter's husband, huh?"

The air in the room shifted.

A slow, burning anger replaced the fear in Mr. Ahuja’s chest.

His hands curled into fists. “You are not my daughter’s husband.” he bit out, his tone sharp and unwavering. “Stop calling me your father-in-law. What do you want now? Why are you here?”

For a moment, silence stretched between them.

Then—

A chuckle.

Arjun’s eyes gleamed with something unreadable. Something dark.

"Why is it so hard for your family to accept me, Mr. Ahuja?" His voice was deceptively soft, but the weight behind his words was heavy.

"I have proven to you that I will never hurt your daughter. I love her more than I love myself.”

His gaze darkened, locking onto Mr. Ahuja’s like a predator studying prey.

“Why can't you just accept me?"

Mr. Ahuja’s hands clenched at his sides, his entire body rigid with fury. His voice trembled, not with fear, but with the overwhelming weight of a father's anger.

"I cannot accept you.” he said, his tone sharp and unwavering. “Not now, not ever.”

The air in the room grew heavier, charged with the depth of his emotions.

"You may have saved my daughter, but don't you dare forget—she was only in danger because of you.” His voice cracked slightly with pain, but his glare was unwavering. “Your enemies made her a target. Your world dragged her into this nightmare.”

His breathing was harsh, his chest rising and falling as his fists curled tighter.

Arjun stood there, silent, his expression unreadable. His dark eyes bore into Mr. Ahuja’s with quiet intensity, but he didn’t speak.

Mr. Ahuja took a step closer, his voice dropping lower, heavier with emotion.

"I don't want my daughter to live under the same roof as a criminal.” His words dripped with raw disdain. “What guarantee do I have that what happened to her won’t happen again? What assurance do you have that you can truly protect her?"

His words sliced through the tense silence, each one filled with the desperate ache of a father who had come far too close to losing his child.

Arjun still didn’t respond.

He only stared, absorbing every word. His expression remained unreadable—calm, calculating—but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. Something dark. Something dangerous.

A silent battle waged between them, neither willing to back down.

But Arjun wasn’t the type to be swayed by mere words.

And Mr. Ahuja wasn’t the type to hand over his daughter without a fight.

Arjun leaned forward slightly, his gaze unwavering as he spoke, his voice steady but filled with something raw.

“Tell me.”

Mr. Ahuja frowned, confused. “What?”

Arjun’s dark eyes locked onto his. “Tell me what I have to do to become your son-in-law.”

A heavy silence settled between them.

Mrs. Ahuja, who had been watching the exchange tensely, let out a quiet sigh.

Mr. Ahuja turned to her, his frown deepening. “Are you okay?” he asked, noticing the way she was looking at Arjun.

But she didn’t answer him. Instead, she focused her gaze to Arjun.

“What can you do?” she asked softly.

Arjun shifted his attention to her, his expression instantly serious.

“Anything,” he said firmly. “I can do anything. Just tell me what it takes.”

For the first time, a faint smile graced Mrs. Ahuja’s lips, though it was tinged with sadness.

Mr. Ahuja’s frown only deepened. “Why are you entertaining this?” he asked her, his frustration barely restrained.

Mrs. Ahuja finally looked at him. “Because,” she murmured, “it’s not in our hands.”

Both men—her husband and Arjun—stared at her in confusion.

She turned back to Arjun. “Meera is our daughter, yes, but she is also a grown woman. Only she can decide the kind of man she wants to be with. We trust Meera to bring home the right person.”

Mr. Ahuja tensed, his jaw clenching.

“What I mean is.” she continued, “we will only accept you if Meera accepts you first.”

The words barely left her lips before Mr. Ahuja slammed his fist against the armrest of his chair.

“What?! No! Never!” he barked, his face red with anger.

Arjun, however, didn’t seem fazed by his outburst. In fact, he smiled. A slow, knowing smile that sent a flicker of unease through Mr. Ahuja’s chest.

Mrs. Ahuja reached for her husband’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I won’t lie to you, Arjun. You do scare us.” Her voice was quiet, but firm. “Ever since you pointed a gun at my husband, I have feared you more than ever.”

Arjun’s smile faded slightly, but he remained silent.

“But,” she continued, “I have also seen how you always come through for my daughter.” Her expression softened. “You saved her life. You’ve protected her, even when it put you in danger. And for that, I am grateful.”

She inhaled deeply before finishing, “But like I said—we will only accept you if Meera does first.”

Arjun’s expression changed in an instant. His entire face lit up with an almost boyish happiness as he stepped forward and hugged Mrs. Ahuja.

She stiffened, startled, before hesitantly patting his back. It was clear that, while she was trying to accept his feelings, she was still wary of him.

“Thank you.” Arjun said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation.

Then, he turned to Mr. Ahuja, who was glaring daggers at him, his lips pressed into a thin, angry line.

Arjun smirked.

“I will make your daughter love me,” he promised, his voice unwavering. “That’s a guarantee.”

Mr. Ahuja clenched his jaw so tightly his teeth nearly cracked. His hands curled into fists, his entire body vibrating with barely contained rage.

His wife gently squeezed his arm again, trying to calm him, but it was no use.

The nerve of this man—standing in his house, declaring war with a smirk.

If there was one thing Mr. Ahuja knew for certain, it was this—

Arjun wasn’t going to stop.

Mrs. Ahuja’s brows knitted in concern as a sudden thought struck her.

“Oh, by the way, Arjun.” she started hesitantly, “Meera isn’t home right now. We can’t—”

“She’s with me.”

The words, spoken so casually, made both her and her husband freeze.

Mr. Ahuja’s face twisted in rage “What the hell is wrong with you, boy?!” he roared. “What did you do? Did you kidnap her again?”

Arjun only chuckled, the sound low and deliberate, as if he was enjoying the older man’s reaction.

“I simply needed her away from discussing this with you both.” he said, his smirk unwavering. “And no, I didn’t kidnap her. She came on her own.”

“Liar!” Mr. Ahuja spat. “My daughter would never go to you willingly!”

Arjun tilted his head, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. “I don’t lie, Mr. Ahuja.” His smirk deepened. “I don’t need to.”

Tension filled the room like a storm about to break.

Before the argument could escalate further, Mrs. Ahuja exhaled softly, stepping in.

“That’s enough.” she said gently but firmly. She turned to Arjun, her gaze searching. “You’re saying Meera is with you?”

Arjun nodded once.

She studied him for a moment, then let out a small sigh of relief. “Then she’s safe. That’s all that matters.”

Arjun’s smirk softened into a genuine smile.

“I’d love to stay longer.” he said, slipping his hands into his pockets, “but I should be heading back.”

Mrs. Ahuja gave him a small nod, while Mr. Ahuja merely glared.

Arjun turned to him, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Goodnight, Father-in-law.”

Mr. Ahuja didn’t bother responding as Arjun made his way to the door and left.

The room remained heavy with unspoken words.

As soon as the door shut, Mr. Ahuja turned to his wife, his frustration spilling over. “Why would you say that?”

But Mrs. Ahuja wasn’t even looking at him. Instead, she gazed at the closed door, an almost imperceptible smile playing on her lips.

“Because,” she murmured, “this isn’t our love story.”

She turned away, but Mr. Ahuja wasn’t done.

“This is our daughter’s life...” he snapped. “She can’t be dragged into the criminal world.”

Mrs. Ahuja giggled lightly, finally facing him. “Darling,” she said, stepping closer, “remove the hatred you have for him because he is a mafia boss, and really see all the things he has done for our daughter. Look at the lengths he has gone to for her.” She tilted her head. “Love is selfish. And you, of all people, should know that.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but she wasn’t done.

“Meera is trying to escape this dangerous world.” she admitted. “Just like you want her to. But no matter what she does, it keeps pulling her back in.” She sighed. “I don’t support it, but…” She paused, then shook her head. “Writing our own story when fate has already written one for us—it’s difficult.”

Mr. Ahuja stared at her, speechless.

“Meera is safe.” she repeated gently. “That’s what matters right now.”

Then, with a small smile, she turned toward the stairs. “Now let’s get you all freshened up.”

She started ascending, leaving her husband rooted in place.

He watched her retreating figure, a mixture of frustration and reluctant admiration washing over him.

“Who did I marry?” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

Still, her words lingered.

With a sigh, he finally followed her up the stairs.

♧♧♧

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