Mahir's pov-
The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the sound of her sobs. Siara's voice had carried the weight of a thousand broken dreams, and when she fell to her knees, it was as though the entire world crumbled with her.
I stood there, frozen, unable to breathe, unable to move. The woman in front of me-the woman I had married, who had stood beside me with her cold, impenetrable exterior-was breaking apart before my eyes. This wasn't the Siara Malhotra I had known; this wasn't the composed, formidable doctor who never faltered. This was someone raw, someone shattered, someone stripped bare of everything she had been forced to build around herself.
Her cries were the sound of years of betrayal, pain, and loss, all pouring out at once. It was relentless, a storm of emotions too powerful for anyone to contain. Her tears weren't just falling-they were carving paths down her face, as though every drop carried the weight of the memories she had revealed.
And then she screamed-loud, guttural, and heart-wrenching. It echoed through the Malhotra mansion, bouncing off walls that had witnessed happier days, walls that now bore witness to a storm no one could ignore.
I didn't realize my fists were clenched until I felt my nails digging into my palms. I didn't even notice the tears slipping from my own eyes until the blurry vision forced me to blink. Me-Mahir Sehgal-the man known for his ruthless efficiency, the man who could buy and sell empires without flinching, was standing here, undone by the sight of my wife on her knees.
Her family, who had been silent in their shock, was now falling apart too. Her father-once a towering figure of strength-was crumpled on the floor, his head in his hands, shaking as though every sob Siara released tore a piece of him away. Her brothers were no different, their tears falling freely, their faces twisted with guilt and agony. Her mother's wails were a mirror of her daughter's cries, as though they were connected in their pain.
I wanted to move towards siara, to hold her, to tell her that she wasn't alone. But my legs wouldn't cooperate. I was rooted in place, a witness to her destruction, powerless to stop it.
This wasn't just crying. This was something primal, something born of years of being silenced, ignored, and betrayed. Every scream was a knife, cutting through the people in the room, leaving us all bleeding in her wake.
Siara wasn't just breaking; she was unraveling, every layer of her soul exposed for the first time. The ice-cold shield she had carried for years had melted, and what was left was pure vulnerability-a woman who had been beaten down by life but somehow had managed to survive.
And then I realized: survival had been her curse. She had survived, but at what cost? The cost of herself, her joy, her trust.
Her sobs grew louder, harsher, and I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't just stand there. I dropped to my knees beside her, unsure of what to do, unsure if she would even let me near her. But I couldn't let her drown alone in this storm.
As I knelt beside her, watching the woman I married crumble into pieces, a storm brewed inside me-a storm of fury so intense it felt like my veins were on fire.
Siara's pain, her screams, and the unspeakable horror she had endured etched themselves into my soul. The image of her trembling body, her cries of anguish, and the torment in her eyes were burned into my mind. And the men who had done this to her-they were still out there. Breathing. Living. Laughing. While she was here, shattered, bleeding from wounds that would never truly heal.
My jaw clenched, my fists trembling with unrelenting rage as a single, savage thought consumed me, They will not live. They don't deserve to live. For every tear my woman shed that night, for every ounce of pain they inflicted, they will die a death so merciless that even their screams won't find salvation. Their end will not just be justice-it will be a reckoning.
But death would be too merciful for them.
They will beg for death but they won't get it. They would scream, cry, and plead just as Siara must have, and I would make sure their end will be a symphony of their suffering. I would drag them through the pits of hell myself.
They had taken her dignity, her innocence, and her will to live. Now, I would take everything from them. I would strip them of their humanity, their hope, their existence piece by piece. Every breath they took would be a curse, every second a reminder of what they had done. Their reckoning will be brutal, and their screams will echo in the silence of their despair. For every breath they stole from her, I will steal a thousand from them.
I promised her, silently in my mind as her sobs continued to echo through the room,"You won't have to bear this alone anymore, Siara. I'll make them pay in ways they never imagined possible. I'll hunt them down, no matter how long it takes. I will tear them apart from the inside out."
The darkness in me, the one I had always kept hidden, now surged forward, unstoppable and unrelenting. For my wife, I would become the monster they feared. For her, I would burn the world down.
They thought they had destroyed her, but they had made a fatal mistake. They didn't realize who they were up against now.
This isn't over. Not until their screams echo louder than hers did tonight.
"Siara..." I whispered, my voice breaking.
She didn't look at me. Her body was trembling violently, her hands clutching at her chest as though trying to hold herself together. Her breaths were shallow, erratic, and her cries were tearing through me like a blade.
And then it hit me-the realization of just how much more broken she was. Siara wasn't just broken by her past; she was broken by everyone who should have been there to protect her, including me.
The walls of the mansion, grand and imposing, seemed to shrink under the weight of her pain. They stood as silent witnesses, just as they had stood during her years of absence. The Malhotra mansion, which once echoed with laughter, now bore the screams of a woman who had been betrayed by fate, by family, by life itself.
Every soul in the room was now drowning in tears. The mighty Malhotras, the legendary Sehgals-families that stood tall and unshaken in the face of the world-were reduced to silent, guilt-ridden spectators of her anguish. And me? Her husband. The man who vowed to protect her, to stand by her when we got married and yet walked away when she needed me the most-I was no better.
I sat there, frozen, a knot tightening in my chest with every broken sob that escaped her lips. Each tear she shed was a dagger, stabbing deep into the recesses of my conscience. Her pain was raw, a storm tearing through the room, leaving behind devastation in its wake. And as I watched her crumble, I realized that my regret wasn't just about not being there-it was the guilt of not knowing. Of failing to see the cracks beneath her icy mask. Of letting her stand alone when I should have been her shield.
The air was suffocating, thick with the weight of truths too bitter to swallow. Yet her voice-fragile yet thunderous in its despair-was the only sound that mattered. And every word she spoke carved itself into my soul, a painful reminder of what I failed to protect. I had been blind, and now I was paying the price of seeing her break before me.
I promise you, Siara, for every wrong I have done, for every moment I failed you, I will try to change it. Not once, not twice, but every single day, for as long as it takes. I don't care if it takes a lifetime-I won't stop. I won't give up on you. Not now, not ever. You may be broken, but I will piece you back together, even if it means breaking myself in the process. I would pick up every shattered piece of you, no matter how long it took. This is my vow-to stand by you, to fight for you until there's nothing left of me. Never again you will carry this alone. Never.
And for the first time in my life, I wasn't Mahir Sehgal, the ruthless businessman who was still stuck in his past. I was a man of my women, the one who failed to heal her.
I watched as Siara, trembling but resolute, turned her gaze to Reyansh. He was a shattered reflection of the man I had seen before-broken and unrecognizable, crumpled on the floor, his hands covering his face. But Siara's voice cut through the heavy silence like a blade, trembling yet laced with an unyielding fury.
"Your wife," she began, her tone sharp and raw, every word drenched in the bitterness of betrayal, "she didn't love you." She paused, her chest rising and falling as she drew the strength to continue. "Do you know what she told me? That your first priority has always been me-not her. That's what made her resent you."
The room tensed, a collective intake of breath, but Siara didn't stop. Her voice rose, louder, more piercing, each syllable echoing her anguish. "The woman you all were mourning for? The one whose loss tore you apart? Her and the baby you thought were yours-they weren't. She lied to you. She lied to all of you."
Reyansh visibly flinched at her words, his hands falling from his face as the truth landed like a physical blow. His eyes searched hers, desperate, pleading, as if willing her to take it back. But Siara's expression didn't waver.
I could feel the weight of her agony-a storm that had lain dormant for too long now unleashed. And yet, amidst the chaos of her revelation, all I could think of was her pain.
This wasn't just a confession. This was an exorcism of the wounds she had carried silently for years. The betrayal, the lies, the burden of knowing-she had borne it all alone. I felt rage burning in my chest-not just for the men who had broken her, but now for the deceit that had been piled on her shoulders by the people who were supposed to protect her.
I wanted to grab Reyansh by the collar and demand answers, to beat him for failing her as a brother, for allowing her to carry this weight.
But as I looked at him now-a man shattered, mourning a child that was never his-he was already a shell of himself. The man who once prided himself on being her protector now sat in the ruins of his own guilt, looking like a king dethroned, stripped of his honor and left with nothing but regret.
And Siara's words? They weren't just a blow; they were the final nail sealing the coffin of his illusions, crushing him under the unbearable truth.
Her voice trembled, faltering with every word, yet each sentence she spoke hit like a thunderclap. Siara's emotions were pouring out, raw and jagged, as if the floodgates of all her suppressed pain had finally broken free. She shifted her gaze to Avyaan, her eyes burning with anger and unspeakable pain.
"What you said... just one day," she choked out, her voice cracking with the weight of her words. "JUST ONE DAY... In that one day, I broke... EVERY... SECOND... every fucking SECOND!" She was gasping for breath, tears streaming down her face like rivers of anguish. "Where was I when papa had a heart attack?" she screamed, her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white. "I was lying HALF DEAD in the hospital!" Her voice shattered with every syllable, the words stabbing through the room like daggers.
The room was dead silent, save for Siara's broken cries. The air itself seemed to suffocate under the weight of her torment. She wiped the tears from her eyes, but they kept coming, relentless and heavy. "Those texts... HOW CAN I TEXT YOU WHEN I WAS NOT EVEN IN MY SENSES?!" she roared, her anger an inferno now, consuming everything in its path.
The room was frozen in time, every soul present bearing witness to the agony of a woman who had lost everything-her family, her innocence, and now, even her ability to speak without choking on her pain. And as she screamed, as her broken heart bled out in front of them, not one person dared to speak. No words could heal the raw wound that was Siara Malhotra.
Siara's gaze shifted to her parents, both of them broken, kneeling on the floor in a heap of despair, their tears staining the ground beneath them. The sight of them-once pillars of strength-now reduced to this shattered state, made her chest tighten. She wiped the tears from her eyes, and with a quiver in her voice, she spoke again, her words cutting through the heavy silence.
"You didn't trust me that day," she whispered, but it was loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. "You thought a dying person can't lie... but what about your own daughter, who was alive? You believed someone else's words... someone else's lies. Where was your trust? Where was your love for me?"
Her voice cracked with anguish as the weight of those unanswered questions echoed through the room. She was asking for answers, but she wasn't sure anyone could provide them. Her heart, already shattered by betrayal, now bled even more, unable to comprehend how her parents-her family-had turned their backs when she needed them the most.
The entire room was paralyzed, her words, like sharp shards of glass, lodged into the hearts of every person present. Even her parents, though broken and crying, couldn't escape the magnitude of her pain, the echo of their failure in trusting her, in not believing her truth.
Siara's voice softened, almost as if she were speaking to herself, her words barely audible but piercing through the heavy silence of the room. She spoke as though the truth was unraveling itself from the depths of her soul, words she had buried deep within her for so long.
"You know how scared I used to be from guns?" she began, her voice trembling but steady. Her eyes glazed over as if she were reliving that moment. "That day, when I pulled the trigger, I didn't even flinch."
The room grew colder as the weight of her words settled on everyone like a crushing wave. There was no pride, no triumph in her voice-only an eerie calmness that sent chills down the spine of everyone who heard it.
Her eyes remained distant, lost in a memory only she could truly understand.
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Author's pov-
She slowly stood up, her tears were still there but her voice as sharp as ever, Her voice, though still laced with the weight of her grief, was sharp, every word laced with authority, and a quiet strength that resonated deeply. The air in the room seemed to thicken as she spoke, each syllable cutting through the silence like a blade,"The Doll you cherished for your whole lives... she died the moment she woke up from that coma, staring at the door of her hospital room, waiting for her family to come, but never arriving. Waiting for a touch that never came, for a hug that never reached her"
And she left without looking back and the last thing she heard was Shivay's voice, choked with emotions for his bhabhi,"Wh-what is her freezing point?" he sobbed, his words a haunting cry for understanding.
Mahir followed her silently, not daring to make a sound, but each step he took felt like an affirmation of the vow he had made in his heart. This wasn't just about making things right. This was about standing beside the woman who had survived the worst, and proving to her that she didn't have to face anything alone anymore.
And for the first time in a long while, Mahir Sehgal didn't know what would happen next-but he was ready to follow her anywhere.
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The room was heavy with guilt. The air was thick with regret, and each person in the room seemed to shrink under the weight of Siara's words, as if their very presence was too much to bear.
Her brothers-each of them strong men in their own right-now sat like fragile beings, each one breaking at her words. Their guilt was suffocating, consuming them as they realized the depth of her pain, the depth of their failure to protect her.
Reyansh, the eldest, was trembling uncontrollably, his head hung low, his hand clutching his chest as though it could hold together the wreckage inside. The tears streamed down his face as he whispered, almost to himself, "How... how did I not see it? How did I not know? Someone t-t-touched her, where was I?"
Ekansh, normally composed, his face pale and lips quivering, clenched his fists, unable to look up, as though her pain was too much for him to bear. His voice cracked as he muttered to himself, "I... should have been there. I should have protected my d-doll,"
Avyaan's sobs were uncontrollable now. He had no words, no excuses. His body was shaking violently as he knelt on the floor, hands pressed to his face, his sobs echoing in the room. "I slapped her...She was trying to s-speak but I didn't let her.... I should've never left you alone d-doll," he whispered in a broken voice.
Aryan, the one closest to Siara, fell to his knees, his entire body shaking as he finally let the tears fall. " I... I failed her... I was supposed to protect her, I said those words. The one thing that could've kept her sane-her passion, her d-dance.. I killed that." he choked out, his voice raw, hoarse with regret. The shame he felt was evident in his eyes, but it was the devastation in his heart that seemed to suffocate him.
Vivek, the youngest of them, had tears flowing freely down his cheeks, his body trembling like a leaf in the wind. "We should've seen it... we should've been there for her. What the hell were we doing? What was I doing?" His voice was barely a whisper, but the pain in it was louder than anything.
Their parents, too, were a broken mess on the floor. Her mother's face was pale, a shadow of the woman she once was. She had no strength to stand, her knees weak, her hands clasped together as if praying for forgiveness she knew would never come.
Her eyes, wide with disbelief, betrayed the depth of her regret. The sorrow in them spoke louder than any words could ever convey-it was the silent scream of a mother who had failed. Failed to protect her child. Failed to trust her,"I s-shouldn't have believed her friend when she told me Siara was staying at her place that night, I shouldn't have believed Anya" her voice trembled, cracking under the weight of the truth she could no longer deny. Each word seemed to tear at her soul as the guilt flooded in, drowning her in its relentless tide. The image of her daughter-her baby girl-growing up, fighting battles alone, haunted her every waking moment.
Siara's father, who had always been a stoic figure, his brow always furrowed with worry, now looked like a man who had been utterly destroyed. He, too, was on his knees, broken, staring at his daughter's picture with guilt so heavy it almost crushed him. His tears fell silently as he tried, and failed, to find the words to express the remorse and regret coursing through his veins.
The realization that his precious daughter had been hurting all this time, with no one standing beside her-least of all him-was a truth so bitter, it paralyzed him.
But in that moment, something inside him hardened. A dark, consuming rage ignited deep in his chest, fueled by the realization that the monsters who had done this to his daughter had not yet paid for their sins. The guilt wasn't enough. No, this was beyond that.
With silent fury burning in his heart, he swore to himself that the men behind this horror-those who had dared to hurt his girl-would never see mercy. They would feel the full force of his wrath. Every last one of them would learn the true meaning of brutality, and they would face it at the hands of Aarav Malhotra.
The vow was more than just words-it was a promise etched in blood, forged by the pain of a father who would stop at nothing to kill those man.
Aarav Malhotra was not the only one who had vowed to bring hell to those who had done this to Siara. Her brothers, the ones who had failed to protect her, were now bound by an unbreakable oath to make those monsters suffer in ways unimaginable.
This was not just the beginning of revenge-it was the birth of a storm. A storm that would raze everything in its path, leaving nothing but devastation and ashes in its wake.
Justice was coming. And it was coming with the force of a hurricane.
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Hey Readers â¤ï¸
This chapter was one of the most intense and emotional moments in Siara's journey, and I hope it resonated with you.
I hope you felt the weight of every word, every tear, and every promise made. And trust me, this is just the beginning.
Thank you for staying with Siara through her emotional outburst. The real storm is only just starting. Stay tuned for what's to come! â¤ï¸