Somewhere in the heart of New Delhi, the sprawling farmhouse – affectionately known as “Big Farmhouse” – pulsed with activity. Workers delicately arranged fairy lights across the rooftop, transforming the space into a festive haven. But one person waited with an eagerness that bordered on desperation, eyes fixed on the main doors, anticipating a promised arrival.
“He’ll be here soon, cupcake,” a melodious voice assured from behind. Kiyara, the birthday girl – or rather, princess – turned toward her Aunt Smriti, her lower lip trembling.
Smriti sighed, then opened her arms wide. “Come here, my princess. Daddy will be here in a moment. He never breaks his promises, you know that.”
Kiyara, radiant as a star, launched herself into her aunt’s embrace.
“Riti,” she murmured, using her nickname for Smriti because the full name was still beyond her grasp, “you’re right. Daddy will come fast. He can’t bear a crying princess.” A mischievous grin flickered across her face.
Smriti, watching her niece, smiled softly to herself. *Like father, like daughter,* she thought. *Bhai is like that.* To the world, Vikram Rathore might appear stubborn and arrogant—a ruthless boss. But to those who truly knew him, he was a different man entirely: loving, fiercely protective, and possessive beyond measure.
The sound of a car horn cut through the air, and a shared smile blossomed across their faces. It was a smile of pure anticipation.
Vikram Rathore arrived, handsome and commanding as ever. Behind him, a porter carried his bags, followed by a group carrying a magnificent three-layered cake.
Meanwhile, in South Delhi, a three-year-old boy sat nestled in his grandmother’s lap, captivated by his favorite animated series, Shin-chan.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. A vision of beauty walked through the door: Akira Singh.
“Hello, Mom!” a silken voice called out. The little boy, Vidit, leaped from his spot and ran to his mother, Angel.
Akira scooped him into her arms, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Well hello there, my Birthday prince, my Vidit! All set for a surprise visit?”
Vidit beamed, his excitement bubbling over. “Yes, Mumma! See? I’m dressed and ready to go.”
Akira, gazing at her son—her sole beacon of hope—rewarded him with a heart-melting smile.