Destined to Be Yours

Shourya stepped into the mansion, the weight of the day still heavy on his shoulders. The faint hum of the evening settled around him as he made his way toward the living room.

It was then that Vedha entered, her face pale with concern.

"Shourya, there's an article..." Vedha began, her voice trailing off.

Shourya's sharp gaze met hers, his tone cutting through the tension. "I know. I've already taken care of it."

Vedha hesitated, her eyes flickering with something unspoken. She took a step closer, her hands fidgeting nervously. "I tried calling you earlier, but..." She paused, a delicate silence lingering between them. "Could you... give me your contact number?"

Shourya studied her for a moment, his mind racing with the implications of her request. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, handing it to her without a second thought.

"Here," he said, his voice a little softer now.

Vedha's fingers trembled as she took the phone from Shourya's hand, her heart beating a little faster than usual. She hadn't expected him to simply give her his phone, and for a brief moment, she stood frozen, staring at the device as if it held some unspoken significance. It was a simple act, yet it felt personal—too personal.

The screen before her seemed to blur slightly as she tried to unlock it, but she quickly realized she didn't know the password.

A flash of embarrassment colored her cheeks as she tried to think of a way to address it. But before she could utter a word, Shourya's calm voice broke the silence.

"You don't know the password, do you?" he asked, his tone gentle yet perceptive, as though he'd anticipated the very moment she would hesitate.

Vedha met his gaze, surprised at his intuition. She hesitated before responding, her voice quieter now. "No, I don't," she admitted, a slight laugh escaping her lips to mask the discomfort. "I didn't think I'd be needing it."

Shourya's lips twitched into a small, knowing smile. Without another word, he reached out, entering the passcode effortlessly and unlocking the phone. "There," he said, handing it back to her. "Now you can save my number."

Vedha was still caught in the softness of the moment as she quickly entered his contact information, the task now far easier than before. As her fingers hovered over the screen, she glanced up at him. "I'm sorry for the trouble," she murmured, a hint of sheepishness in her voice.

Shourya shook his head, his expression unchanged but warm. "There's no trouble. I should've known you wouldn't have my contact number already." His voice was light, but there was something comforting in the way he spoke—an understanding that erased the awkwardness she felt.

The night was eerily silent, save for the soft rustling of leaves outside Vasudha's window. She lay in her bed, her breathing steady, her face serene under the faint moonlight filtering through the curtains. But as sleep claimed her, the past she had buried deep clawed its way to the surface.

In her dream, the world was dark and wet—a stormy night from 21 years ago. Rain hammered against the roof as thunder roared in the distance. Vasudha paced anxiously in the small living room of their modest home, her hands wringing in fear. Her husband, Muruli, hadn't come home yet, and her instincts screamed that something was terribly wrong.

The clock struck midnight. Her heart jumped at the sound of the door knocking violently. She rushed to open it, her trembling hands barely managing to unlock the latch.

There he was—Muruli—drenched to the bone, his face pale, his eyes wild with fear. In his arms, he held a tiny baby swaddled in a damp cloth, no more than a few months old. In his other hand, he gripped a battered suitcase.

"Muruli!" she cried, her voice trembling. "Where were you? What is this—?"

"Vasudha," he interrupted, his voice hoarse and shaking. He pushed the suitcase into her hands and thrust the baby toward her. "Take this money— It will save you and my son. But this…this child—" He paused, his voice breaking, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Take her, Vasudha. Protect her. Hide her. Grow her as our daughter."

"What are you saying?" Vasudha's voice cracked.

"Whose child is this? What's happening, Muruli? Tell me!"

"There's no time!" he said desperately, clutching her shoulders. "This baby is in danger. Her identity must remain hidden. One day, she must rise again. She must take revenge, Vasudha. Help her reclaim what is hers. Swear to me!"

Tears streamed down Vasudha's face as she nodded, overwhelmed by fear and confusion. "I swear, Muruli, but—what about you? What's happening?"

Muruli's eyes darkened with a sorrow she couldn't comprehend. He leaned closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "In this suitcase," he said, his voice trembling, "is everything—the truth of who she is. Her identity, her lineage, her future. Guard it with your life. Promise me, Vasudha!"

"Muruli—"

"Promise me!" he barked, the urgency in his tone freezing her in place. She nodded again, clutching the baby to her chest.

Without another word, Muruli turned and stepped into the rain. Vasudha stood frozen in the doorway, watching him disappear into the storm. Minutes felt like hours as she waited, her ears straining for any sound.

And then it came—a deafening gunshot that pierced the night, followed by an eerie silence.

"No!" Vasudha screamed, collapsing to her knees.

Her tears mixed with the rainwater pooling on the floor as she clutched the baby tighter, her heart shattering into a million pieces. She knew, deep down, that her husband was gone.

Vasudha jolted awake, her chest heaving, her body drenched in sweat. The nightmare clung to her like a shadow, its cruel memories refusing to fade. She reached for the glass of water on her bedside table, her trembling hands spilling some as she gulped it down.

Her mind raced as she stared at the darkness around her. The promise she had made to her husband burned in her soul.

The baby from that night—Vedha.

She clenched her fists, her eyes narrowing with determination. "I will not let them escape," she muttered, her voice cold and filled with venom. "The ones who took you from me, Muruli—they will pay. I swear it."

Her lips curled into a bitter smile as her gaze turned toward the closed door of her room. "Vedha, you will soon know the truth about who you are. The secret of your birth, the destiny that awaits you—it's time."

And then, as if possessed by the very revenge that fueled her, Vasudha let out a low, chilling laugh that echoed through the room.