Semua Bab The Other Woman : Bab 51 - Bab 60

KIYARA'S POINT OF VIEW Somewhere around 3 a.m., we’d covered most of the syllabus, well, the important bits. His panic had turned into grim determination, while I was slowly dying of boredom but still pretending to be the cheerleader he needed.By 5 AM, he’d finished the last chapter. I walked in with a tray, two mugs of strong coffee, a plate of biscuits, and a triumphant smile. “Congratulations, Einstein. You’ve officially done in one night what you should’ve done in three months.”He took the coffee, looking at me with this strange mix of exhaustion and something softer. “You really stayed up all night for this?”“Of course. Someone has to save your ass.”For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then he stood up, pulled me into a tight hug, and murmured.. “Thank you, Kiyara,” he murmured against my hair. “Seriously. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”“Probably fail,” I said into his shoulder, but I hugged him back anyway.I patted his back. “Don’t get sentimental now. Save the te

Little LifeContinuing the story after 3 years where it previously left.3 years later_Kiyara :- 25 years old.Kiyara point of point of viewUttarakhandThe golden rays of the setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, casting a warm glow over the vast mountains. A soft breeze carried the scent of damp earth and fresh clay as I sat on a wooden stool outside my hut, my hands covered in wet mud as I shaped a clay pot.The rhythmic motion of my fingers gliding over the spinning wheel was soothing-almost hypnotic. It was one of the few things that gave me peace these days.I exhaled heavily, pausing to wipe the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand. The summer heat in Uttarakhand could be merciless, but I had long since grown used to it.Behind me, the faint hum of the village life continued-children laughing, the distant mooing of cows, women gossiping near the well. It was so... ordinary. So different from the life I had once lived.For three years, this had be

Kiyara's POV – (Continuing the Flashback) The city was suffocating. I could hear the voices even when I wasn't watching the news. "Mistress." "Whore." "Homewrecker." "Gold-digger." Each word was a dagger slicing through my skin, bleeding me dry. I pulled the hood of my jacket over my head as I stepped out of the hospital, my legs trembling beneath me. My entire body ached from the accident, but there was no time to rest. I couldn't stay here. Not when Natasha's lies had turned the entire world against me. Not when my baby's life was at risk. I wrapped my arms around my belly protectively, whispering under my breath, "We'll be okay. I promise." But deep down, I was terrified. I only had raghav. And now I have no one. I was an orphan, just like I had been my whole life. *** AT THE TRAIN STATION The ticket in my hand felt heavy. Uttarakhand. My mother's ancestral home. A place I had only heard about in stories. I had nothing else. No phone, no contact with the outsi

Kiyara POV (9 Month of pregnancy)The hospital lights flickered faintly, casting a dull glow over the white-washed walls of the maternity ward. The sharp scent of medicine stayed in the air, blending with the fading voices of nurses' hurried footsteps and the occasional cry of newborns.I lay on the hospital bed, my hands resting protectively over my swollen belly, feeling the rhythmic movements of the tiny life within me. My fingers trembled slightly as I stroked the curve of my stomach, my heart pounding in anticipation and fear.The room was quiet, save for the beeping of the monitors and the low murmur of Leela Maasi's prayers as she sat beside me. Her wrinkled hands clasped together, her lips moving in silent devotion. Every once in a while, she would glance at me, her eyes filled with warmth and worry."You're strong, baccha," she whispered, reaching over to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "Just a little more now."I gave her a weak smile, but the storm inside me w

(Same day as raghav was beaten in the jail and kiyara gave birth) The glow of the evening sun light through the glass windows of Kashyap Enterprises’ top floor, casting long shadows across the mahogany desk where Viren Kashyap sat. A glass of aged whiskey rested beside him, untouched, as his sharp eyes skimmed the business reports spread before him.Numbers. Declining stocks. Red lines. A storm brewing in the empire he built from the ground up. The world was in chaos over the downfall of Raghav Kashyap, his son, his blood.Yet, Viren remained unfazed.Shivesh Raghuvanshi had made his move, slowly but surely buying out Kashyap Enterprises’ shares, inching toward what the world assumed was his impending victory. Investors were panicking, the board was restless, and the media was feasting on the collapse of the once-unshakable empire.A lesser man would have been alarmed.But Viren Kashyap was no lesser man.With a slow, calculated exhale, he leaned back in his leather chair, tapping