Page 39 of The Redemption
The shrill vibration of my phone cuts through the last haze of sleep still clinging to me. I reach for my phone, my eyes barely open, and see Haider’s name flashing on the screen.
A low curse slips past my lips as I swipe to answer. “Don’t tell me she’s escaped again.”
Siya and her escape attempts have become a problem I can no longer ignore. There’s a brief pause on the other end before Haider clears his throat.
“No, she hasn’t,” he replies. “But someone else is here.”
That is enough to make me open my eyes. The fog is gone in an instant as he reveals who.
“Kailash Shergill has just entered the premises and is heading towards your villa.”
I let out a slow breath, dragging my palm over my face as I force myself to be fully awake.
“Alright,” I mutter, already swinging my legs off the bed.
Haider disconnects the call, and I grab the black T-shirt lying on the chair and pull it over my head as I move. Taking the stairs two at a time, I reach the ground floor and walk straight to the main door and pull it open.
The car rolls in at that exact moment, coming to a stop at the pavement right in front of the villa. The door opens, and he steps out.
Kailash Shergill.
The man who raised my brother, Ayaan. The man who shaped him into the person he is today. The man who, without trying, became something close to a father figure in my life as well. And yet, I have never been able to call him that.
For three decades, the word ‘Dad’ had belonged to only one man in my life.Tej Khurana.Whatever he was, whatever he did, that title remains tied to him in a way I cannot change.
Not even now… after I shot him.
So for this man here, I chose something else. A title that carries that same respect, that same love without replacing what can never be replaced.
I call him‘Baba.’
Stepping forward, I open the car door wider for him. He places his hand over mine as he steps out. There is a warm, familiar smile already on his face as his other hand comes up to pat my arm lightly.
“Thank you, my boy.”
He is fifty-eight now, but there is nothing fragile about him. Years of standing at the forefront of public causes as a social reformer have still not worn him down. If anything, they have only made him stronger. Once the car pulls away, I bend down and touch his feet. The action comes naturally now, almost instinctive. But it was never something I was taught. Neither by the man who raised me, nor by the world I grew up in.
This is a choiceImade. Because the kind of respect I have for Baba is not demanded; it is earned.
His hand comes to rest over my head as he blesses me. Then, he lovingly pulls me up and wraps his arms around me into a tight hug. I let him. There are very few people in this world from whom I allow this kind of closeness. And every time he holds me like this, the same thought crosses my mind, one I have never spoken out loud. That how lucky Ayaanis to have grown up withthis kind of affection. To have been raised by a man who knows how to give without asking for anything in return.
I pull back after a moment and say,“You could have told me you were coming.”
He chuckles. “It had been a while since I visited you,” he replies, adjusting the sleeve of his kurta. “Besides, once Meher’s due date approaches in the coming months, I won’t be able to travel. She will need her family by her side.”
I nod, because that makes sense, even if I know this is not the only reason he is here. What Meher and Ayaan saw and assumed yesterday has brought him here.
As we walk into the villa, I’ve already decided. I won’t speak about Siya unless I’m asked directly. And even if that moment comes, I’ll choose my words carefully, leaving out the one truth that she is amafia princess.
I know exactly what revealing that truth would do. They won’t take it lightly. This family gave me a life I never thought I would have. A life away from the chaos I was born into, away from the darkness I fought my way out of. They have safeguarded that line for me, kept me on this side of it. I will not be the one to blur it again.
Any connection that ties me back to that mafia world, any link that pullsmypast intothislife, will shatter whatever balance we have built between us. And I’m not going to let that happen.
Minutes later, we are seated in the living room, across from each other, with coffee mugs in our hands. I take a slow sip before setting the cup down and look at him.
“You’ve grown thinner,” I observe, studying him closely. “The last time I saw you, at Vishnu’s birthday in Alibaug, you looked better than this.”
He smiles, clearly expecting the comment.
