Kaynaaz

I cross my arms as I lean against the door of the room, dark because of the curtain-covered windows. My eyes twitch as they take in the blanketed figure of my sister, silently reading the book held in her hand. She refused to step out of her room ever since our father assaulted her last night. Nothing seems to break her reading stance, as she sits frozen in one position, her eyes, the only things which move along with the words on the old pages of her book.

Our father is never one to hurt someone of his blood. He loves and cherishes them to death, spoiling the shit out of the most of us. But every pack has its outcast, and that outcast has always been Kyra. Whether it's about the way people behave or the way events take place, my sister's points have always been the most distinct from the others. And that is exactly what puts her in a tough spot with daddy dearest.

The eldest Rajvanshi despises nothing more than the people who defy him. And to have such a person in his own house, is a 'headache' for him, as he always states.

This wasn't the first time when these two fought, there had been countless arguments. By the time Kyra decided to study literature rather than medicine like Dad had advised her to. The time she thought it was a good idea to go on and lose her everything to Tanmay, and well I'll admit it, that was very dumb. But unlike the rest of us, who laugh it off, Dad isn't one to be amused by her behaviour.

And this is the exact reason why me and Kanishk always have a sense of guilt looming over us. Guilt that, our sister, one who would sell her blood and soul if it meant it'll keep us safe, doesn't find the same comfort in our father, the same way we do. She hides it well, but it doesn't take a genius to recognise the hint of hurt that flashes in her eyes whenever she finds her siblings in the warm embrace of her father.

"What you doing here?," my brother's deep voice catches my attention, and I whip my head in his direction before shrugging my shoulders.

"Keeping an eye on her majesty" I tilt my head in Kyra's direction, still facing Kanishk as he eats up the distance between us with two long strides.

A frustrated sigh escapes his lips as he stares into her room, taking in its dark aura, before eyeing our sister.

"How long has she been here?" He questions in a mumble, his eyes still transfixed on Kyra.

"Since last night, she hasn't eaten anything either,"

My words pulled another sigh from his lips, and the worry was visible on his darkened face. His left eye twitches like it does whenever he's frustrated and turns to face me completely. I pass him a sad smile, the worry for our sister putting us in the same crucial position. We couldn't go against Dad nor could we not help fix the hurt she is feeling.

"This won't do," he shakes his head before straightening up and stalking straight inside the room. His figure looms in the darkness as he makes his way to the window opening the heavy curtains. The heavy afternoon rays cause Kyra to break from her trance and she looks up at Kanishk, her bloodshot eyes more visible now.

A look passes between me and bhai before I slowly stride towards Kyra, cutting the distance between us. The closer I get the more it hurts seeing her eyes, wet lashes, some of the mascara she had on them running down her cheek, the same cheek having the visible red mark our father had imprinted on her with his heavy hands yesterday.

I finally stop in front of her, sitting on the bed before my hands softly take hold of the book in her own and pull it away. Even with tired eyes, she passes me a smile, a fake one, with zero sign of her signature dimples.

"You should eat," my words come out as a whisper to not break the humming and silent aura of her room.

She shakes her head before falling back on her bed and covering herself with the blanket she had wrapped around herself.

Hiding.

A prey hides from hits predator to save itself, a criminal hides from the law to save himself, a cheater hides the truth to save his relationship and a preacher hides his sins to save his reputation.

Kyra hides herself and her truth to save everyone around her. She's so aware of the smallest change in mood that her lips clamp shut as soon as she senses the slightest change of tone. She has these walls up high almost impossible to break, these walls that hide her actual feelings, the walls that block her hurt from escaping from within her and keep it grounded to her soul.

Kyra cries, Kyra sobs, she tears her whole heart out. But she does it silently. Not on one's shoulder, not when she feels she's a bother.

"Kyra, get up," Kanishk says firmly, his voice demanding but not unkind.

Kyra shakes her head softly, her body lying limp on the bed without any movement. It takes Kanishk two long strides to eat the distance between us before he grabs the end of her blanket, pulling it away from her body.

"Get some light, you aren't going to lay there all day when you have so much to work on," Kanishk crosses his hands in front of him, both of them staring intently at each other. Kyra nods slowly and looks away, tearing her gaze from our brother's intense one.

"Come on now," he urges gently, extending a hand out to help her up.

Kyra hesitates for a moment before taking his hand and allowing him to help her sit up. I smile softly at her before keeping a hand on her shoulder. She stiffs under my touch, before taking a deep breath and relaxing again.

"You know," Kanishk starts after a few moments of silence between us, "Dad loves you."

Kyra scoffs at his words, her body shaking with fake laughter.

"Sure doesn't feel like it."

"Kyra," I say softly, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for Dad's actions.

"I-I don't understand why he does this," she chokes out in a whisper. "I-I try so hard to p-please him but nothing is ever enough."

"It's not your fault Kyra," Kanishk's deep voice cuts in, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. "Our father has his demons to deal with, you can't blame yourself for how he treats you."

"But it's always me," she whispers brokenly. "He never lays a finger on either of you."

My heart aches at the truth in her words. Our father has always been harsher towards Kyra compared to me or Kanishk. Maybe because we aren't as rebellious towards him as she is or maybe, just maybe because she reminds him too much of our grandfather.

She shrugs off my hand as I try to reach out and pull her close to me for a hug. She doesn't understand how much it hurts us to see her like this. It's not just about Dad anymore; it's about family and sticking together no matter what. And she matters more than any other person to exist.

"We'll make him understand di, you know how he gets when he's stressed out about work," the despair in my voice earns me a look from Kanishk before his other hand reaches to pat my head.

Kyra leans into bhai's side, as his hand wraps around her shoulder protectively. Her eyes gaze at my hand, now by my side, before her arms stretch out, welcoming me for a hug.

"I love you both so much," I chuckle softly before jumping into her arms, hugging are waist tightly.

"We're here for you Kyra," Kanishk continues, his voice softening. "We always have been and we always will be."

For a few moments, there is silence as we stand there as a trio; two siblings trying to console their sister. Kyra sniffs a few times, her grip around my body tightening slightly.

She's breaking down inside, still stubborn to show it. And no matter how much any of us push her to talk about what actually happened, she won't say a word. She'll let it go like always. No matter how much her heart might break.

Aayan

I recline against the door of my obsidian Porsche, drawing deeply from my cigarette. The smoke curls lazily into the night air, mingling with the cool breeze as my gaze fixes on an illuminated window across the street, the silhouette of a figure moving behind the sheer curtain made distinct by the warm light of the room.

Kaynaaz speeds from one corner to another, her free hair flowing behind her as she continues to get dressed. My intrusive thoughts urge me to flick the cigarette butt towards to window, to burn the thin piece of cloth keeping the front-row view of her gorgeous body from me.

I wasn't supposed to be here for another thirty minutes, she clearly told me to pick her up at eight, but who would want to miss this show she is putting on without any awareness?

I take another drag from my cigarette, inhaling deeply watching her tits bounce as she removes the nth dress she tried on. It's like watching a live fashion show but with a much more alluring model.

I can't help but think about how lucky I am to have this view all to myself. Most men would kill for this kind of opportunity, but here I am, casually smoking my cigarette and taking in every detail of my angel's body. Her slender waist, the gentle swell of her full breasts, the enticing curve of her ass, and the delicate point of her nose all came together to form a silhouette that was nothing short of mesmerizing.

The room's lights gradually fade to darkness, and with them, her shadow vanishes from my sight. I take one final drag of nicotine from the cigarette clutched between my fingers, savouring the familiar burn at the back of my throat before flicking it into a nearby trash bin. Slowly, I open the door I'd been leaning against, feeling the weight of it in my hand before slipping into the driver's seat. The leather creaks as I settle in, reclining comfortably against its supportive backrest.

A joyous smile breaks across my face as I hear the door of Kaynaaz's home open and shut. I couldn't help but let the smile grow into a smirk as I watch her walk towards my car. Every step she takes is filled with confidence and poise, her vibrant red dress hugging her curves in all the right places. The soft fabric sways and dances with each movement, drawing attention to her form and making her stand out against the muted surroundings.

I exit the car and walk towards her with deliberate, long strides, finally meeting her at the entrance of her estate. The hair that was flowing freely moments ago is now styled into a bun atop her head. Her lips, painted to match her dress, appear almost irresistibly kissable. I smile at her, then gently take her hand and bring it to my lips.

"You look gorgeous, Min Kärlek,"

She clears her throat before snatching away from hand from my hold.

"You don't look so bad yourself," she murmurs as she walks past me towards the car.

Like a predator on the hunt, I follow closely behind her, my eyes never leaving her figure as she approaches the car. She goes in to reach for the door but I slide in between her and the car door before shaking my head.

One of the few things my mother has taught me is to be a gentleman and I'll always be one for Kaynaaz.

She crosses her arms over her chest, waiting for me to open the door. I swing the car door open, motioning for her to sit down. She shoots me a sarcastic smile before slipping into the passenger seat.

As I make my way to the driver's seat, I can't help but think about how enchanting she looks tonight. Her dark hair cascades down her back in soft waves, and her makeup is impeccable, accentuating her beautiful features.

Without saying a word, I start the car and begin our drive to the award show.

The drive to the show is mostly quiet, with the murmurs of whatever song is playing on the stereo. I glance towards the beauty next to me, navigating through the busy city. The city lights pass repeatedly, highlighting Kay's face now and then. She stays silent, not a word escaping her lips as we roll through the traffic.

I clear my throat to catch her attention, before adjusting in my seat. "Do you plan on staying quiet for the rest of the night?"

"Was talking and entertaining you a part of our deal?" she grumbles in annoyance, throwing me a nasty look.

"No, not really, although you already gave me the entertainment when you were getting ready,"

My words catch her full attention and she turns her entire figure towards me, a disgusted yet horrified look adorning her glowing face.

"You were watching me change you asshole?" She gasps loudly before picking up her clutch to hit my arm.

I groan lightly at her attempt to hurt me before chuckling softly. "Well, maybe you shouldn't be changing in front of your window and giving everyone a show Mrs. Khan,"

It takes a minute for her face to morph into an annoyed expression and she relaxes back into her seat.

"My window was covered with curtains. You didn't see anything special. Give me a break," she scoffs.

I turned to face her, my hand still resting on the steering wheel before I reached out to cup her face and turn it towards me.

"Would you like me to see the special things? Because I'm sure as fuck I'm willing to abandon that damn award show if it means getting a taste of you," I whisper huskily, my eyes lock onto hers as I wait for her response.

My words send a shiver through her, and for a fleeting moment, I catch a glimpse of her eyes igniting with the same fiery intensity that burns within mine. But then, like a fragile glass cracking under pressure, she averts her gaze, breaking away from my eyes and slipping out of my grasp.

"The last thing I want in life is to be in that situation with you again," she whispers, before sinking back into her seat and staring out the window.

. . .

Maybe it wasn't the best idea to bring Kaynaaz with me. She was supposed to be my date an elegant adornment clinging to my arm throughout the evening. Instead, she's mingling with unwanted souls, and I might as well have to end them after tonight.

My eyes burn a hole into the back of a man's head as he chuckles at something Kay says. His hands occasionally brush against her arm, totally unnoticed by herself. She speaks to him, then lets out a gentle laugh. Her eyes lift to meet mine briefly, a glimmer in them, before shifting back to the man before her.

I stride over to them, eating up the distance between me and my future wife, which she didn't deny being when I called her by my last name in the car, before placing an arm around her waist, catching her by surprise.

"Good Evening Mr. Soni," I greet the man in front of me with a tight smile, the same man who has been getting on my nerves for the past thirty minutes.

He returns the smile before letting out a chuckle, "Oh good evening Mr. Khan, how are you liking the party?"

Kaynaaz, beside me, writhes and struggles against my firm grasp, her movements erratic and desperate. My hands encircle her waist like iron bands, holding her in place. There is no way she's getting out of my sight again.

"I'm enjoying my evening just fine, and I'm sure you will too if you stop throwing dirty looks at my fiancé. And if you want your hand shoved down your throat, I suggest you continue,"

Kaynaaz freezes in my grasp, her eyes darting from me to the man she had been conversing with. A flicker of bewilderment crosses her face before she clears her throat, a nervous laugh escaping her lips like a hesitant bird taking flight.

"I'm not, I'm not his fiancé," she stammers, laughter bubbling out again, this time tinged with awkwardness.

Her gaze snaps back to me, now sharp. Her lips twitch as if forming the beginnings of a curse meant for me, but instead, she merely turns away, sliding out of my hold. With one last look brimming with silent fury, she walks off, leaving behind an atmosphere thick with tension.

Mr Soni stares at me before his gaze turns to Kaynaaz, shamelessly ogling the curve of ass as she walks to the bar ahead of us. I exhaled a long, deep sigh before stepping in front of him. My hands reached out carefully, fingers brushing against the fabric of his collar as I took hold of it gently. His body quivered under my touch, a slight tremor betraying his unease. He attempted to mask his nervousness with a shaky laugh, the sound fragile and uncertain.

"C-congratulations Doctor Khan, your wife is beautiful," he stutters out.

"Yes, MY wife, she's a fucking angel, whereas I'm the devil, and I won't spare you if you dare even gaze in her direction,"

He nods in response to my words, and I push him away before wiping my hands on my trousers. I scan the crowded room for her. There she is, sitting at the open bar with a glass of alcohol in her hands. I weave through the crowd towards her and finally settle down beside her.

She looks up from her glass, letting out a scoff as she notices my presence.

"You're absurd Aayan," she hisses, taking a sip of the drink in her hand.

I order a drink for myself before turning to her, "And how am I absurd Min Kärlek?"

"Since when are we engaged? I am not your fiancé," she slides her glass to the bartender, telling him to make another drink with her eyes.

"Yet, Min Kärlek. You're not my fiancé yet,"

She shakes her head and with a confident hand, she takes a swig of her drink, allowing the liquid to flow down her throat. A soft red blush appears on her cheeks, hinting at the few drinks she has already consumed. I can't help but smile as I watch her, remembering the last time she was drunk a few years ago.

Kaynaaz opens her lips to protest against my statement, but a shrill voice cuts her in between, "HI Mr Khan, do you remember me!"

My gaze turns left as I stare at a girl dressed in a pink mini-dress. She has a drink in hand and looks more like she's ready to go to a club rather than a classy event.

I shake my head not recalling who she is, and she lets out a fake giggle before pulling up a chair next to me. Behind me, I hear Kaynaaz grumble something under her breath before she reaches for the new drink the bartender made for her.

"I'm Shelly! You don't remember me? I was a junior of yours, remember?" She blinks at me questioning and a pout forms on her face when I shake my head.

"How could you forget?" she whined, her hand landing gently on my knee. Her touch was light but insistent as if trying to jog my memory. "I brought you so many gifts back then," she continued, her voice taking on a desperate tone.

The next hour drags on with Shelly's hand creeping ever closer to my crotch, her fingers a slow, insistent crawl that seems to be trying to bridge the years between us. For the first fifteen minutes, I make a genuine effort to engage, straining to summon some fragment of our history. But soon enough, my interest wanes, and my mind begins to wander. My gaze frequently strays to Kaynaaz, who is unmistakably drunk; her glassy eyes and unsteady movements betray the number of drinks she's consumed throughout the night.

"Aayan, if you're free would you like to come over tonight," Shelly's squeaking voice makes me cringe as she leans in closer, her eyes locked onto my lips with an unsettling intensity.

Before I could muster a reply or push her away, the chair behind me scraped loudly against the floor. Kaynaaz stormed up beside me, her eyes blazing with barely contained fury.

"Ms. Shelly," Kay growls through clenched teeth. "I would greatly appreciate it if you would leave MY HUSBAND alone before I physically remove you from his side." With a swift motion, she wrenches Shelly's hand from my thigh, her movements filled with disgust.

My body freezes in shock as Kay, fueled by alcohol, forcefully pushes the girl out of our personal space. Her anger is palpable, causing her body to tremble slightly.

My husband

She just called me her husband.

I break out of my shock as a small soft hand wraps around my own softly tugging me. Kay's deep brown eyes lock onto mine, silently urging me to rise from my seat. Without a word, I obey, following her through the sea of partygoers and out into the cool night air toward my car.

As we reach the vehicle, I clear my throat, trying to piece together what just happened. "Did you really call me—"

"Shut the fuck up, Aayan," she cuts me off with a voice so stern it makes my lips clamp shut instantly. Her tone leaves no room for argument or misunderstanding.

I unlock the car with my free hand, and she stands in front of the driver's seat before swinging it open.

"Get in," she scolds, her hand holding open the door for me.

So much for being a gentleman.

I slide into my seat and reach out to shut the door, but before I can move any further, she does something that catches me completely off guard.

She slides into the car with a swift grace, her legs straddling my thighs. The scent of her perfume fills the confined space as she pulls the door shut behind her, enclosing us in an intimate cocoon. She settles properly into my lap, her weight a warm and welcome pressure.

"What are you—" My question is cut short as she presses her lips against mine, silencing me with their soft insistence. Her kiss is gentle yet consuming, each movement of her lips sending electric shivers down my spine. Her hands grip my shoulders tightly, as though she's anchoring herself to this moment while claiming my mouth with fervour.

My own lips start to respond, moving against hers in a slow dance of bites and gentle tugs that elicit a deep groan from her. The heat between us builds rapidly, each touch igniting sparks along my skin.

Suddenly, she pulls away, leaving me breathless and on the edge of speech. But before I can utter a single word, her hand presses against my swollen lips, effectively silencing any protest or question I might have had.

"Mr. Khan, if you're going to call me your wife, you'd better step up and act like a husband. I see any woman sniffing around what's mine, and I'll make sure she regrets it."