Chapter 54

Bhai teen ghante Lage hai likhne mein Like nhi kiya na kaka !!! Baat nhi karungi mai sabse ….
Aur ha BLOODBOUND padha kya ??? 👋🫶 Padh kar batana kaisi hai …. story of brothers who fought with Circumstances and each other to save Themselves.

(Okay I might not have explained clearly but padhkar batana omkie it’s gooooooid) Love ya 🩷🫶

Guys this story is in my Draft do you want it ?

The call ended—

but the words didn’t.

—

Armaan stayed still for a moment.

Phone still in his hand.

Jaw tight.

Eyes distant.

—

“…our baby.”

—

His grip slowly tightened—

until his knuckles turned white.

—

Behind him—

Avery’s broken, uneven breaths filled the room.

Wet.

Painful.

Still alive.

—

Armaan exhaled slowly.

Then turned.

—

His expression had changed.

—

Not rage.

Not impulsive violence.

—

Something worse.

—

Controlled.

—

He walked back toward her—

each step slow, deliberate—

until he stood right in front of her again.

—

Avery tried to laugh—

but it came out as a choked, trembling sound.

Blood stained her lips.

Her hands—

shaking uncontrollably.

—

“…what?” she rasped. “Not done yet?”

—

Armaan crouched down.

Bringing himself to her level.

—

For a moment—

he just looked at her.

—

Not as an enemy.

Not as prey.

—

But as something…

he no longer recognized.

—

“You know what’s funny?” he said quietly.

—

Avery’s smirk twitched.

“…you?”

—

Armaan ignored it.

—

“You keep saying no one cared about you,” he continued. “That you were alone.”

A pause.

His voice dropped—

colder.

—

“And yet…you chose the one person who never would’ve left you.”

—

That—

made her expression flicker.

Just for a second.

—

Armaan saw it.

—

“Ashvik didn’t see you as a burden,” he said. “Didn’t see you as a tool.”

His gaze sharpened.

“He trusted you.”

—

Avery’s breathing hitched—

but she forced a laugh again.

—

“Trust?” she spat weakly. “That weak little boy—”

—

The chair screeched loudly across the floor.

—

Armaan’s hand slammed against it—

right beside her face.

—

Silence.

—

Heavy.

Deadly.

—

“Say one more word about him,” Armaan whispered,

“and I won’t stop them next time.”

—

Avery froze.

For the first time—

truly froze.

—

Because she believed him.

—

Armaan straightened slowly.

Rolling his shoulders back.

Composure settling over him again.

—

“Lock her properly,” he said to the guard without looking. “No food. Only water.”

A pause.

Then—

colder.

—

“And don’t let her pass out.”

—

The guard nodded immediately.

—

Armaan turned—

walking toward the door.

—

But just before stepping out—

he stopped.

—

“…you wanted to be seen, right?” he said without turning back.

—

Avery didn’t respond.

Couldn’t.

—

“Congratulations,” Armaan continued quietly.

—

“You are.”

—

The door shut.

—

And the darkness returned—

but this time—

it wasn’t empty.

—

It was suffocating.

—

—

Back at the hospital—

the quiet had shifted again.

—

Not broken—

but heavier.

—

Abhimanyu stood near the window now, arms crossed tightly.

Ansh sat down finally—

head tilted back, eyes closed.

—

Dante hadn’t moved.

Still there.

Still steady.

—

Ashvik stirred again—

this time more restless.

His brows furrowed.

A faint whimper slipped past his lips.

—

Dante noticed immediately.

—

“Hey…” he murmured softly, leaning closer.

His fingers moved gently through Ashvik’s hair again.

Slow.

Grounding.

—

“I’m here.”

—

Ashvik’s grip tightened again—

almost painfully this time.

—

“…don’t let them…” he whispered faintly.

—

Dante’s expression darkened slightly.

“Not happening,” he said quietly.

—

“…they were there…” Ashvik murmured, voice shaking even in sleep. “…I couldn’t—”

—

“It’s over,” Dante interrupted gently.

—

But his eyes—

flickered.

—

Because he knew.

—

For Ashvik—

it wasn’t over.

Not yet.

—

“…Dante…” Ashvik’s voice broke faintly.

—

“I’m right here, jaan.”

—

A pause.

—

“…it hurt…”

—

That—

did something.

—

Ansh opened his eyes.

Abhimanyu turned from the window.

—

And Dante—

for the first time—

his hand stilled for a fraction of a second.

—

Then resumed.

Softer.

Even more careful.

—

“I know,” he whispered.

—

His voice was steady.

—

But his eyes—

weren’t.

—

“I know.”

—

Ashvik slowly settled again.

His breathing easing—

his grip loosening just slightly.

—

Still holding on.

—

Always holding on.

—

And this time—

none of them looked away.

—

Because the truth had finally settled in the room—

clear.

Unavoidable.

—

This wasn’t just about memory.

—

This was about damage.

—

And healing it—

was going to cost all of them.

—

Far more than they were ready for.

—

And somewhere in the shadows of the city—

that cost…

was already beginning to rise.

The soft beeping of the monitor continued—

steady.

Alive.

—

Morning had started to creep in through the hospital windows,

golden light stretching slowly across the floor—

touching everything gently.

—

Ashvik stirred again.

This time—

more aware.

—

His lashes fluttered.

A faint crease forming between his brows as he shifted slightly.

—

Dante noticed immediately.

Of course he did.

—

“Easy…” he murmured softly, his hand already moving to cradle the back of Ashvik’s head.

“Don’t rush it.”

—

Ashvik’s eyes opened slowly—

blurry at first.

Unfocused.

—

“…Dante…?” his voice came out dry, fragile.

—

A softness instantly melted into Dante’s expression.

“I’m right here, jaan,” he said quietly.

—

Ashvik blinked a few times—

his grip tightening around Dante’s hand again.

Like checking.

Like confirming.

—

“You didn’t go…” he whispered.

—

Dante let out the smallest breath.

“Never said I would.”

—

He reached for the glass beside the bed,

slipping an arm carefully behind Ashvik’s shoulders—

lifting him just enough.

Slow.

Careful.

Like he was holding something breakable.

—

“Drink a little,” Dante murmured.

—

Ashvik hesitated—

but didn’t argue.

—

Dante tilted the glass slightly—

guiding it to his lips,

watching every movement,

every reaction.

—

“Not too fast,” he added softly.

—

A few small sips—

and Ashvik already looked exhausted.

—

Dante immediately lowered the glass.

“Bas. Enough.”

—

Ashvik didn’t protest.

His head instinctively leaned closer—

resting lightly against Dante’s chest.

—

Dante adjusted without thinking—

one hand coming up to support him fully,

fingers slipping into his hair again.

Slow strokes.

Gentle.

Reassuring.

—

The door clicked open.

—

All three men looked up.

—

Sofia stepped in first—

followed by Amaira and Luca.

—

They stopped just inside the room.

—

Because the sight in front of them—

it did something.

—

Ashvik—

curled slightly into Dante,

eyes half-lidded,

fragile—

but calm.

—

And Dante—

holding him like he was something precious.

Something his.

—

Amaira’s breath hitched slightly.

“…he’s awake…”

—

Luca didn’t say anything.

His eyes stayed locked on Ashvik.

Tension.

Guilt.

Fear.

All mixed into one.

—

Sofia stepped forward slowly.

“…Ash…” she said softly.

—

Ashvik’s lashes fluttered again.

He turned his head slightly—

eyes landing on them.

—

And then—

that confusion returned.

—

“…who…?” he murmured faintly.

—

The word—

cut.

—

Amaira froze.

Luca’s jaw tightened.

Sofia’s expression flickered—

but she forced a gentle smile.

—

“It’s okay,” she said softly, even though her voice wasn’t as steady as she wanted. “You don’t have to remember right now…”

—

Ashvik didn’t respond.

—

Instead—

his fingers curled tighter into Dante’s shirt.

—

Dante felt it.

Of course he did.

—

His hand immediately moved again—

brushing softly through Ashvik’s hair.

“It’s alright,” he murmured near his ear. “You don’t have to figure anything out right now.”

—

Ashvik relaxed again.

Just like that.

—

Luca noticed.

And something in his chest—

twisted hard.

—

“…he only listens to you,” Luca said quietly.

—

Dante didn’t look at him.

“He feels safe,” he replied simply.

—

Amaira took a small step forward.

“…can I…?” she asked hesitantly.

—

Dante glanced down at Ashvik—

then back at her.

—

“…slowly,” he said.

—

Amaira nodded.

Carefully—

she moved closer to the bed.

—

Her hand hovered for a moment—

before gently resting near Ashvik’s arm.

—

Ashvik tensed slightly.

—

Dante’s hand immediately stilled him—

a soft, grounding touch against his head.

“It’s okay,” he whispered.

—

Ashvik didn’t pull away this time.

—

Amaira let out a shaky breath.

—

“…you scared us,” she murmured softly.

—

Ashvik blinked slowly—

but didn’t answer.

—

Because he didn’t know how to.

—

Sofia stood beside her now,

watching quietly.

Observing everything.

—

Especially Dante.

—

The way he adjusted the blanket.

The way he shifted Ashvik slightly so he’d be more comfortable.

The way his thumb kept tracing soft, absent patterns against his hand.

—

Not forced.

Not performative.

—

Instinct.

—

“…you’ve been taking care of him all night?” Sofia asked quietly.

—

Dante didn’t look up.

“Yes.”

—

A pause.

—

“…thank you,” she said softly.

—

Dante didn’t respond to that.

—

Because his focus never left Ashvik—

who had started to drift again.

—

His breathing evening out.

His grip loosening—

but not letting go.

—

Dante carefully adjusted him again—

lowering him back onto the pillow.

Slowly.

Gently.

—

His fingers brushed the tear marks still faint on Ashvik’s cheeks.

—

And without thinking—

he wiped them away.

—

“Sleep,” he murmured softly.

—

Ashvik’s lashes fluttered once—

then stilled.

—

Gone again.

But peaceful this time.

—

The room fell silent.

—

And this time—

everyone saw it clearly.

—

Not just care.

—

Not just protection.

—

But something deeper.

—

Something none of them said out loud—

but all of them understood.

—

Ashvik—

might not remember anyone.

—

But his heart?

—

It had already chosen.

— One Month Later —

The house felt quieter than usual.

Not empty—

just… careful.

—

Sunlight filtered through the curtains,

soft and warm,

settling over the figure sitting by the window.

—

Ashvik.

—

He looked better.

Physically.

Stronger.

Color back in his face.

No trembling hands.

No panicked breaths.

—

But his eyes—

they told a different story.

—

Because now—

he remembered.

—

Everything.

—

Not in broken flashes.

Not in blurred pieces.

—

Clear.

Sharp.

Complete.

—

And that clarity?

—

It hurt more than the confusion ever did.

—

Behind him, the door opened softly.

—

Sebastian stepped in first,

leaning casually against the wall—

but his gaze was anything but casual.

—

“…you’re up early,” he said.

—

Ashvik gave a faint hum.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

—

A pause.

—

Sebastian studied him for a second longer.

“…you’re thinking about them.”

—

Ashvik didn’t deny it.

—

Because there was no point.

—

Before anything else could be said—

another presence filled the room.

—

Dante.

—

He didn’t announce himself.

Didn’t need to.

—

Ashvik felt him.

Always did.

—

A second later—

warm fingers brushed gently through his hair.

—

Soft.

Familiar.

Grounding.

—

Ashvik’s eyes closed for just a moment—

leaning ever so slightly into the touch.

—

“…you’ll mess it up,” he murmured quietly.

—

Dante huffed softly.

“It already is.”

—

A faint smile appeared—

small,

but real.

—

It faded just as quickly.

—

“…they’re coming, right?” Ashvik asked.

—

Dante didn’t lie.

“Yeah.”

—

Ashvik’s fingers tightened slightly on the edge of his sleeve.

—

Not anger.

—

Something deeper.

—

“…did you tell them?” he asked.

—

Dante’s hand stilled for half a second—

then resumed.

—

“No.”

—

A small nod.

—

“Good.”

—

Not because he wanted to hide.

—

But because—

he didn’t know how to face them yet.

—

Not like this.

—

A knock echoed through the room.

—

This time—

Ashvik’s breathing shifted.

Just slightly.

—

Dante noticed.

His hand moved from Ashvik’s hair—

to his shoulder.

A quiet squeeze.

—

“I’m here,” he said softly.

—

Ashvik nodded once.

—

“…come in,” Dante called.

—

The door opened.

—

Ansh stepped in first.

Abhimanyu right behind him.

—

Both of them—

stopped.

—

Because Ashvik wasn’t lying in bed.

Wasn’t weak.

Wasn’t avoiding eye contact.

—

He was sitting there.

—

Looking at them.

—

And that alone—

made something tighten in their chests.

—

“…Ash,” Ansh said quietly.

—

This time—

Ashvik didn’t stop him.

—

But he didn’t smile either.

—

“…hi,” he replied softly.

—

That—

hurt more than anger would have.

—

Abhimanyu stepped forward slowly.

“…how are you feeling?”

—

Ashvik hesitated.

—

“…better,” he said.

And he meant it.

At least physically.

—

Silence followed.

—

Because there was something—

unsaid.

—

Heavy.

—

Ashvik’s fingers curled into the fabric of his sleeve again.

A nervous habit—

one they both recognized instantly.

—

“…why didn’t you tell me?” he asked suddenly.

—

The question wasn’t loud.

Wasn’t sharp.

—

But it shook the room.

—

Ansh frowned slightly.

“…tell you what?”

—

Ashvik looked at them properly now.

—

And this time—

his eyes weren’t cold.

—

They were hurt.

—

“…what happened to me,” he said.

—

A pause.

—

“I remembered,” he added quietly.

—

That—

stilled everything.

—

Abhimanyu’s breath caught.

“…you—when?”

—

Ashvik shook his head slightly.

“That’s not the point.”

—

His voice wavered—

just a little.

—

“I remembered being scared,” he continued.
“I remembered the pain… the panic…”

A breath hitched.

—

“…but I didn’t know why.”

—

That—

broke something.

—

Because there it was.

—

Not anger.

—

Not blame.

—

Just a boy—

who had been hurt—

and left in the dark about it.

—

“I kept asking myself what I did wrong,” Ashvik whispered.

—

Ansh’s expression fell completely.

—

“You didn’t do anything—” he started.

—

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” Ashvik asked again.

—

His voice wasn’t loud.

—

But it cracked.

—

And that sound—

it hit harder than anything else.

—

“I had to hear it from memories,” he said, eyes glistening now.
“Not from you.”

—

Abhimanyu looked away briefly—

guilt flooding his expression.

—

“We thought… it would hurt you more,” he admitted quietly.

—

Ashvik let out a shaky breath.

—

“It already did.”

—

Silence.

—

Heavy.

—

Real.

—

Ansh took a step closer—

hesitant this time.

—

“…we were trying to protect you,” he said.

—

Ashvik nodded slowly.

—

“I know,” he whispered.

—

And he meant that too.

—

That was the problem.

—

“I know you love me,” he added softly.
“I never doubted that.”

—

Both of them froze.

—

Because that—

that wasn’t what they expected.

—

Ashvik swallowed.

—

“But it still hurt,” he said.

—

A tear slipped down quietly—

unnoticed by him.

—

“…because I needed you to trust me too.”

—

That—

shattered whatever composure was left.

—

Ansh closed his eyes briefly.

—

Abhimanyu stepped forward again—

this time not stopping—

until he was right in front of Ashvik.

—

“…we’re sorry,” he said.

—

No excuses.

No justifications.

—

Just truth.

—

Ashvik looked at him—

really looked.

—

And for a moment—

he looked like that same boy again.

—

Soft.

—

“…don’t do that again,” he whispered.

—

Abhimanyu nodded immediately.

“Never.”

—

Ansh stepped closer too—

his voice quieter than ever.

“…we should’ve told you.”

—

Ashvik gave a small nod.

—

And then—

after a brief hesitation—

he stepped forward.

—

Not fully.

Not completely.

—

But enough.

—

Abhimanyu didn’t wait—

pulling him gently into a hug.

Careful.

Like he might break again.

—

Ansh joined a second later.

—

And Ashvik—

after just a moment—

held on.

—

Tight.

—

Because no matter how much it hurt—

—

These were still his brothers.

—

And he loved them—

more than the pain they caused.

—

Across the room—

Dante watched quietly.

—

And for the first time in days—

Ashvik looked… lighter.

—

Not healed.

—

But no longer alone in it.

To be continued ✨🩷