"YOU—"

Two voices collided.

Same word.

Same second.

Same shock.

And the Rathore mansion built on silence, power, and unspoken rule forgot how to breathe.

No one moved.

Kabir stood frozen like a statue carved out of disbelief. His eyes didn't blink. Didn't even flicker. It wasn't fear. It wasn't confusion.
It was admiration shock;the kind that hits when reality does something beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

Rithvik's reaction was worse.

His eyes widened unnaturally, lips parting as if his mind had completely shut down. He looked like he had just seen a ghost crawl out of a locked memory something impossible walking freely in front of him.

Arnav's face turned unreadable.

Not blank.

Unreadable.

The most dangerous kind.

His jaw tightened slightly, eyes narrowing just enough to tell that his brain was already running ten steps ahead;connecting dots no one else had even noticed yet.

And Vikram

Vikram Rathore watched the two of them like fate had just broken its own rules.

Something in his chest twisted.

Hard.

Before any man in that room could open his mouth—

"Baba, leave me."

That soft voice cut through the tension like a blade wrapped in velvet.

Vikram blinked.

Looked down.

Avanya shifted in his arms, her tiny body pressing against him, fingers curling into his shirt as if even standing was suddenly too much.

"Princess," he said slowly, grounding himself, "first tell me how do you know him?"

She shook her head immediately.

Hard.

Then she did the most illegal thing a child can do to a powerful man.....

She pouted.

Lower lip out.

Eyes blinking slowly.

Voice dropping into a tiny whisper soaked in drama..

"Pleeeeease, baba."

Vikram closed his eyes for half a second.

Fuck.

He exhaled, loosened his grip, and carefully lowered her to the floor.

The moment her feet touched the ground-

The shift was instant.

She straightened her back.

Flipped her ponytail with one sharp movement of her little hand ; like a warrior tightening armour. Her brows pulled together, cheeks puffed slightly, lips pressed tight. Her face screamed I am angry and you should be scared, even though she barely reached anyone's waist.

(A/N; Yeh bhi lady don nikli mai to angel samajh rhi thi)

She marched.

Tiny feet.

Heavy attitude.

Straight toward Arin.

Every step deliberate.

Every step loud in the silence.

She stopped right in front of him.

Lifted her chin.

Narrowed her eyes;proper stare, the kind where you look someone up and down like they personally offended your ancestors.

"YOU, MONSTER UNCLE."

Arin reacted on instinct.

He narrowed his eyes back, posture stiffening, voice sharp.
"You trouble maker"

She narrowed her eyes even more.

Harder.

Face scrunched like she was concentrating all her anger into that tiny expression. Lips pouted aggressively, nose wrinkled, brows knitted so deeply it looked painful.

"I AM NOT TROUBLE," she snapped,
"YOU MONSTER UNCLE."

She crossed her arms.

The room watched.

Four powerful men.

One tiny girl.

And somehow-
she was winning.

She pointed her finger accusingly at his chest.

"YOU DIDN'T EVEN SAY SORRY TO ME YET."

Arin blinked.

Then scoffed, disbelief dripping from his voice.

"SORRY???"
He let out a fake laugh, shaking his head.

But something slipped.

A crack.

A flicker crossed his face-too fast, too real.

Avanya noticed.

She smiled.

Not sweet.

Dangerously cute.

Then like she had already decided he wasn't worth her energy she turned around dramatically, ponytail swinging side to side, and marched back to Vikram.

She tugged his sleeve.

"Baba," she said loudly, pointing behind her, "why this monster uncle is here?"

Vikram's brows pulled together.

"Princess," he said carefully, "first tell me how you know him."

She nodded.

But before words could leave her mouth-

Arin snapped, irritation spilling out.
"Stop calling him baba. He's my dad. Not some old grandfather."

(A/N: Please arin agar jinda rehna hai to chup ho jao)

The air shifted.

Vikram's jaw tightened.

Anger flashed across his face sharp and dangerous.

But before it could turn into something lethal-

"He's my baba," Avanya fired back instantly, eyes blazing,
"not your dad. Understood?"

The sentence came out wrong.

Child-wrong.

Grammar-wrong.

But emotionally?

Perfect.

A flicker of pride lit Vikram's eyes.

He buried it immediately.

Then he turned to Arin.

"No more words," he said calmly.

Soft voice.

Heavy command.

The kind that doesn't need shouting.

Arin nodded.

Vikram turned back to Avanya and knelt down in front of her.

The sound echoed.

All four sons reacted instantly.

"Dad-!"

For them, kneeling was normal.

For him?

Never.

The man who never bent.

Never lowered himself.

Now kneeling in front of house helpers, workers, his sons.

Avanya turned her head, looking at all four men.

Her brows knitted together, confusion spreading across her face, eyes jumping from one face to another like she was trying to understand why everyone suddenly looked so weird.

Vikram raised his palm.

Silence.

Then softly, "Princess."

She turned back immediately.

"Baba you okay?"

He smiled.

"Of course."
"Look."
"I'm fine."

She smiled back.

Two dimples appeared.

All four sons watched the moment, stunned.

Vikram placed his hands gently on her shoulders.

"Now tell me, princess," he said calmly, pointing toward Arin,
"how do you know him?"

She turned her face toward Arin.

Scrunched her nose.

Kabir let out a small chuckle.

Arin shot him a glare.

Kabir didn't give a fuck.

Avanya turned back to Vikram, slapped her palm on her forehead dramatically.

"Oho, baba."

"When me and kaki went to mall for eating icecream and buying my new clothes,"
she began seriously.

"After buying, me and kaki were walking. I was eating my favourite icecream."

She paused.

Her face drooped.

Eyes big.

Voice heavy.

"And from nowhellleee(nowhere)....monster uncle came and corlided(collided) with me."

Another pause.

She inhaled.

"And my whole ICECREAM spill on the floor."

The tragedy was unreal.

Then suddenly;sadness vanished.

Anger replaced it.

"He didn't even say sorry, baba," she huffed,
"and walked away."

She crossed her arms again.

Then-

After a dramatic pause-

"But I don't let him go anywhere," she said proudly.
"So I left kaki's hand, took my ball, ran behind him because monster uncle walk so fast"

Her eyes sparkled.

"And I throw my new ball on his head."

She smiled innocently.

"And run from there."

..the room didn't just fall silent.

It stalled.

Like time itself hesitated, unsure whether this situation was even allowed to exist inside the Rathore mansion.

Kabir's lips twitched first.

Not a full smile-no. That would be disrespectful.

But the corner of his mouth betrayed him, lifting slightly as his eyes stayed fixed on Arin. There was something oddly satisfying about watching his usually untouchable brother get dragged into this.

A seven-year-old. With a ball. And an attitude.

Kabir finally let out a soft chuckle, barely audible, shaking his head as if to himself.

Arin caught it.

His head snapped toward Kabir, eyes sharp, warning blazing in them.

Kabir raised both brows innocently.

What? his expression said.
This is cinema.

Rithvik, meanwhile, looked like he'd been dropped into the wrong universe.

He ran a hand through his hair slowly, eyes wide, staring at Avanya with pure disbelief. Not fear. Not judgment.

Just-

This child threw a ball at Arin Rathore and lived.

His brain refused to process it.

Arnav shifted his stance.

One step back. Arms folding. Posture relaxed but his eyes were alert, calculating.

He wasn't laughing. He wasn't shocked.

He was observing the dynamics.

The way Avanya spoke without fear.

The way Arin bristled like this was a personal insult. The way Vikram's silence was stretching dangerously thin.

Arnav's jaw tightened slightly.

This wasn't childish drama.

This was a disruption of hierarchy.

And then-

"I did it by mistake."

Arin's voice cut through the air, irritated, defensive.

He rolled his shoulders back, like preparing for a fight, eyes locked on Avanya. "Why would I say sorry for a mistake?"

Avanya's face changed instantly.

Her brows pulled together, eyes widening with something dangerously close to hurt but she didn't cry.

Instead, she inhaled sharply.

"You... you have to say sorry," she said, voice soft but trembling with anger, words tumbling out in broken rhythm. "You made bad thing."

Arin scoffed. "And you threw a ball on my head."

"That was because of YOU," she snapped back, pointing again, finger shaking just a little. "If you say sorry, I no no throw ball."

Kabir laughed again; this time louder.

He didn't even bother hiding it now.

Rithvik shot him a look.

Kabir shrugged.

This is history, his eyes said.

Arin's jaw clenched harder.

He leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing, voice dropping into a dangerous calm. "Then you also say sorry."

Avanya gasped again.

Actually offended.

Her tiny hands balled into fists at her sides. She stomped her foot once hard.

"No!" she argued fiercely. "You first. Because of you my new ball gone. My new one."

Her voice cracked just a little on new.

That did something.

Vikram felt it.

A sharp pull in his chest.

Pride surged-hot and undeniable.

His little princess wasn't crying. Wasn't backing down. She was demanding accountability.

But anger followed just as quickly.

Cold. Controlled.

Because Arin still hadn't apologized.

Because power didn't excuse arrogance. Because children weren't collateral damage.

Vikram's fingers curled slowly into his palm.

Arnav noticed.

Rithvik noticed.

Kabir noticed.

Arin did not.

"You're impossible," Arin muttered.

She copied him instantly.

Arms folded. Chin up. Eyes narrowed.

"You monster uncle," she declared again, like a final verdict.

Kabir actually clapped once quickly before stopping himself.

Rithvik bit his lip hard.

Arnav's eyes darkened.

Arin straightened fully now.

This wasn't a child anymore.

This was an enemy.

Small. Annoying. Stubborn.

"I will win this," his expression said plainly.

Vikram watched it all standing between pride and fury, unsure which one would speak first.

The room held its breath.

Four men. One child. One unresolved apology.

And everyone knew

This wasn't ending quietly.

Not today. Not here.

Vikram's throat cleared, low and deliberate, forcing a hush over the room. His hand rested gently on Avanya's tiny shoulder, grounding her. His thumb traced little circles over the frock's fabric as he surveyed the four men before him.

"Princess," he said, soft but edged with authority, "we will punish him later. But for now meet your brothers properly."

Her head snapped up.

"Later?" Her tiny voice was incredulous. "Like after dinner? Or tomollow(tomorrow)?"

Vikram's lips twitched slightly. "Yes, later."

Her eyes darted around, scanning all four men. Height, presence, seriousness.

They were enormous to her, looming like mountains, yet somehow interesting. She wrinkled her nose.

"Okay," she murmured, giving a tentative nod.

Vikram lifted her effortlessly and settled her on his lap in his armchair, letting her nestle into his chest, arms hugging his shirt.

Her tiny face, upturned with wide, curious eyes, made him pause. A mix of pride, affection, and something almost protective surged through him.

"Kabir," Vikram said.

Kabir stepped forward confidently, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of awe. He knelt on one knee, the classic gesture of respect now warped into something tender because of her tiny presence. "Hello, sunshine," he said softly.

Avanya blinked.

"Sun..shine?" she asked in a tiny, puzzled voice, tilting her head.

"Yes," Kabir said, trying not to laugh. "Something like that."

"Am I sun?" she whispered, brows furrowing, lips pouted adorably.

Kabir chuckled quietly. "Close enough. I'm Kabir. Your favorite brother."

She paused, suspicious. "Favolite(favourite)?"

"Yes, Very favorite" he said, grinning. "I make clothes. Dresses. Fancy ones. Pretty ones. For you."

Avanya's eyes widened. "Like birthday dresses?"

"Yes" Kabir's eyes sparkled. "If you say pink, pink it is. Stars? We get stars. Whatever you want, sunshine, I'll make it."

Her face lit up. A smile slowly spread. And then;dimples appeared. Small, perfect, like little sunbursts.

For the first time, all four brothers saw them, frozen mid-step, captivated. Kabir's mouth opened slightly. "Oh," he whispered. "She has dimples"

Avanya noticed their staring and froze. She buried her face in Vikram's chest immediately.

"No," she muttered. "I not shy."

Vikram raised an eyebrow at the others, shooting them a silent, Did you see that? glance.

Arnav stepped forward next. His presence was subtle, but weighty. "Hello, Avanya," he said calmly. "I am Arnav. Eldest brother."

Avanya peeked from Vikram's chest. Her eyes scrutinized him. She tilted her head. "You don't smile," she said bluntly.

Arnav blinked. " I do."

"No," she shook her head. "Your mouth..folgot how.(forget)"

Rithvik, standing to the side, stifled a grin. Arnav's brow furrowed, and she pointed at him. "You scary," she said, then added softly, "But baba scary too, so maybe you good."

Even Rithvik had to suppress a laugh.

Next, Rithvik introduced himself. "I am Rithvik, second eldest. Doctor."

Avanya squinted, serious. "Doctor?"

"Yes," he said, nodding.

"Doctor give intecgons (injections)," she whispered to Vikram, almost accusatorily.

Rithvik's lips twitched. "Not too many," he muttered.

Avanya nodded gravely. "Good. Injecgons bad."

Finally Arin. He stepped forward, chin up, clearly plotting his stance like some tiny war general sizing up the battlefield. "Arin. Youngest."

Avanya's eyes squinted sharply. "Monster uncle," she said thoughtfully. "You have name also?"

Kabir almost choked back a laugh.

Before Arin could react, Vikram intervened softly. "Princess. Your turn."

Her face lit up with mischief. She slid down from Vikram's lap and folded her little hands together, palms pressed in namaste. She bowed her head slightly.

"I - I am Avanya," she said carefully, stumbling over her own words like a real 7-year-old.
"I- I seven years old." She held up her fingers, one crookedly bent.
"I study second standard."

She paused to glance at Vikram, making sure she had his approval, then continued, with childlike pride:
" I love maths."

Her head tilted thoughtfully, thinking of something else. "And icecreammm was my favourite and I love chocolates too!"

And then she dropped the bomb:
"And I have my baby Tuffy."

The room froze. Kabir's smile disappeared. Arnav's eyes sharpened. Rithvik's mouth parted slightly, disbelief written over his face. Arin blinked once twice as if the words couldn't compute.

"My baby?" Kabir repeated slowly.

"Yes," she said seriously. "He.. he six months older."

Rithvik muttered under his breath: "..Six months older than who?"

"I... me," she clarified, almost like it was obvious. Then added proudly, "He very good boy."

Vikram didn't flinch. Didn't even blink. He watched her with immense pride, feeling her innocence shine like a light cutting through the chaos of his world.

"And my Mr. Choco," she continued, eyes wide with excitement, "he two years older. He my best friend!"

The room didn't know how to process it. Four men. Power. Intensity. Danger. And this tiny, chaotic little girl with "babies."

Kabir let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head in wonder. "My sunshine..."

Rithvik adjusted his posture, as if trying to convince himself that yes, this was real life.

Arnav, however his lips pressed into a thin line. Eyes sharp. He was trying to calculate. Who does this little girl belong to? How does she just own space like that?

Arin, meanwhile, stared dumbfounded. A mixture of irritation and awe crossed his face.

He had expected a meek child, someone to be bossed around but no.

This little tornado of innocence and chaos had just stomped in and planted a flag.

Vikram exhaled slowly, leaning back, holding her close. There was pride. Oh yes, there was immense pride. But there was also a flicker of anger burning quietly beneath his calm exterior-for Arin, for the disrespect she had suffered, for the fact that his little princess had been wronged.

But more than anything, there was love. A quiet, steady, terrifying love that made him want to shield her forever.

And Avanya she bounced on the balls of her feet slightly, unaware of the chaos around her, her big eyes sparkling, tiny fists clenched with excitement and innocence, unaware she had just made four grown men scramble emotionally in ways they weren't prepared for.

________________________________

Ohhhh my god, my tiny little Anuvians!

Your Anuvae is back- yep

the one who talks too much, spills coffee on her keyboard, yells at her teddy and probably just scared a few neighbors with her dramatic "nooo" while writing this chapter. 🙃

I know, I know I can't help it. Chaos is my middle name. Wait actually, it's probably overthinking, but let's not split hairs.

So, let's get dramatic for two seconds, just because we can. Imagine me, in pajamas, one sock missing, screaming "YOU MONSTER UNCLE!" at my laptop like I'm actually Avanya herself- yeah. That's basically me. Don't worry, neighbors, it's all for you.

okay. Now let's be serious.

So not every heart gets family love the way it should. Not everyone gets to feel the warmth of hands that hold them tight, the gentle whispers of "I'm here" when life is breaking their small, fragile world. Sometimes it comes late. Sometimes it comes after hesitation, after mistakes, after storms. And sometimes ....

sometimes it hits you unexpectedly.

And when it does oh, my Anuvian it's like sunlight bursting through storm clouds.

It's messy. It's loud. It's soft. It's tears and laughter tangled together. It's arguments that end in hugs, mistakes forgiven, and stubborn little souls finally feeling seen.that is what makes a family. Imperfect, chaotic, wild, and real.

That's what I wanted you to feel in this chapter. Tiny hands meeting big hearts.

Fierce little souls carving out their place. Chaos turning into love. It's messy, it's stubborn, but it's real. And that my dear Anuvians is the kind of magic you hold in your chest.

So, hold your love close. Fight for it. Treasure it. And sometimes just sit quietly in it, and let it fill you completely.

Love always,

Your dramatic, over-caffeinated, overthinking, chaotic Anuvae 🖤

P.S. To all my Anuvians who are still waiting to feel that warmth and love don't worry. Your story isn't over yet. And when it finally comes, it'll hit you so hard that you'll never forget it.