The hum of the twin engines of the luxury private jet was a soft, steady rhythm in the background as the aircraft sliced through the clear blue skies toward India. Inside the plush, customized cabin, the atmosphere was a mix of cozy comfort, unspoken relief, and a hilarious underlying tension.

The nightmare in London was finally behind them, but the flight home was turning out to be an entire show of its own.

In the middle row of executive leather recliners, Aadhya was fast asleep, her face pale but peaceful, resting her head comfortably against Reyansh's chest. Reyansh had one arm tightly wrapped around her waist, his thumbs gently rubbing small circles on the fabric of her kurti. Every few seconds, he would glance down at her with an soft expression, making sure she was completely comfortable.

Across the aisle, however, the mood was anything but serene.

Disha sat propped up against two silk cushions, her prominent seven-month bump making it a struggle to find a comfortable position. But it wasn't her backache that had her blood boiling at thirty thousand feet. It was the tall, overly attentive blonde air hostess who had been lingering around their section for the past hour.

Disha reached into a bowl resting on her lap, grabbed a generous handful of roasted makhana (lotus seeds), and tossed them into her mouth, chewing with intense, furious aggression. Her teeth gritted with every crunch as her big, expressive eyes glared daggers at the back of the air hostess's head.

The air hostess, completely oblivious to—or perhaps ignoring—the pregnant wife's death glare, sauntered over with a silver tray. On it rested a tall glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. She leaned in just a little too close to Aryan, offering him a sweet, perfectly practiced smile.

"Sir, your juice," the air hostess said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness.

Aryan, who was busy reviewing a business document on his tablet, didn't even look up at her face. He gave a polite, distant smile, reached out, and took the glass from the tray. "Thank you."

That was it. Just a standard, polite response. But to a seven-month pregnant, hormone-surged Disha, it was practically a declaration of war.

The moment the air hostess turned her back and strutted away toward the galley, Disha turned her face sharply away, looking out the airplane window while crunching on another makhana with extra force.

Aryan caught the sudden shift in energy immediately. He set the glass down on his side table and turned his gaze toward his wife. He noticed the puffed-out cheeks, the adorable pout, and the way her tiny hands were practically crushing the poor roasted seeds.

A subtle, amused smirk played on his lips. He picked up the glass of juice, leaned across the aisle space, and offered it to her gently.

"Lavender, here... have some juice," he said, his voice a deep, coaxing rumble.

Disha didn't turn her head. She kept her eyes glued to the fluffy white clouds outside, her voice dripping with thick, theatrical sarcasm.

"I don't need it. You only drink it... kitne pyaar se tumhare liye laayi thi woh," she said mockingly, her tone mimicry at its finest.

(...she brought it for you with so much love.)

Aryan's dark eyes lit up with instant amusement. He immediately sensed the green-eyed monster rearing its head, and he couldn't resist pushing her buttons just a little bit.

Leaning back in his seat, he took a slow sip of the juice and sighed dramatically. "Hmm... haan, woh toh sach hai. She is sweet."

(...yeah, that is true. She is sweet.)

Disha's head snapped toward him so fast her hair flew over her shoulders. Her jaw dropped in absolute shock, and her eyes instantly welling up with dramatic, emotional tears.

"Hawww! See! I knew it! You are getting bored of me, na? I know!" she gasped, her voice cracking as a single hot tear slipped down her flushed cheek.

Aryan's smirk vanished instantly. Seeing actual tears pooling in her eyes made his heart sink. He unbuckled his seatbelt, stood up, and immediately moved over to her side, kneeling on the carpeted floor right next to her oversized chair.

"Hey, my jaan... what are you talking about? I am just kidding," he pleaded softly, reaching up to wipe her wet cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"No need! Don't touch me!" Disha sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand and shoving his hands away playfully. "I will go with bhaiya to my house! I won't come with you!"

From across the aisle, Reyansh, who had been quietly watching the drama unfold while holding a sleeping Aadhya, couldn't hold back a wide, triumphant grin.

"That's a good thing, doll. Come home with us," Reyansh Chimed in, his deep voice carrying over the sound of the engine, his eyes dancing with mischief.

Aryan snapped his head around, glaring death at his brother. "Bastard," Aryan cursed under his breath.

Reyansh immediately seized the opportunity, pointing a accusing finger at her husband. "See, doll! He is cursing me! He called me a bastard!"

Reyansh let out a low laugh, adding more fuel to the fire. "See? I told you, doll. He has no manners left."

Disha glaring him, Aryan shook his head like a helpless, lovesick puppy, utterly defeated by his wife and betrayed by his friend. "Lavender, don't listen to him... apni biwi ko toh nahi jaane dega, par meri biwi ke peeche pada hai."

(...he won't let his own wife go, but he is after my wife.)

Reyansh bit the inside of his cheeks so hard to control his burst of laughter, his shoulders shaking slightly. The movement caused Aadhya to stir in her sleep. Reyansh instantly froze, his laughter melting away as he tenderly patted her head, gently rubbing her shoulder until her breathing evened out again and she sank back into a deep slumber.

Satisfied that Aadhya was sound asleep, Reyansh threw another smug glance at Aryan.

Aryan ignored him, turning all his attention back to the pouty girl in front of him. He reached out, gently capturing Disha's soft hands in his large palms. He brought her knuckles to his lips, pressing a long, lingering, warm kiss against her skin.

"Stop crying, my drama queen," Aryan murmured softly, his eyes locking onto hers with intense warmth. "You know there is no one else for me. Ever."

Disha tried to keep her stern, angry face on, but the feeling of his warm lips on her hands and the sheer adoration in his dark eyes melted her anger instantly. She turned her face away, trying to hide the radiant, unstoppable smile breaking across her lips.

Aryan chuckled, kissing her knuckles one more time before settling back into his seat, keeping his hand firmly locked in hers for the rest of the flight.

A few hours later, the private jet touched down smoothly at the Indira Gandhi International Airport in New Delhi. The humid, familiar warmth of home wrapped around them the moment the cabin doors opened.

A fleet of sleek black SUVs was already waiting on the tarmac to transport them straight to the grand Rathore Mansion. Everyone had agreed that since Reyansh was returning after a life-or-death battle, the entire family needed to be under one roof to welcome him back.

As the cars pulled up the long, grand driveway of the sprawling estate, the heavy iron gates swung open. The mansion was lit up beautifully, welcoming its master home.

The moment Reyansh stepped out of the car, the front double doors of the mansion flew open. His mother, Devika Rathore, rushed down the marble steps, her eyes brimming with tears. She didn't wait for him to walk up; she ran straight to her elder son, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight, desperate embrace.

She pulled back, framing his sharp face with her trembling hands, kissing his forehead, his cheeks, and his hair repeatedly.

"Tu theek hai na, mera bacha?" she sobbed, her voice trembling with months of stored-up anxiety.

(Are you okay, my child?)

Reyansh smiled warmly, his intense aura softening completely in front of his mother. He wrapped his arms around her shoulder reassuringly.

"Haan, maa. Main bilkul theek hoon."

(Yes, mom. I am completely fine.)

Devika wiped her tears and then turned her attention to the young woman standing right beside Reyansh. Aadhya stood there, wearing a soft pastel blue suit that gracefully draped over her prominent five-month baby bump. Her hand was resting instinctively over her stomach.

Devika stepped forward, stepping past Reyansh, and pulled Aadhya into a deep, emotional hug.

"Thank you, beta," Sushma whispered into her hair, holding her like a daughter.

Aadhya blinked in surprise, hugging her mother-in-law back gently. "Maa, aap mujhe thank you kyu bol rahe ho?" she asked softly.

(Mom, why are you saying thank you to me?)

Sushma pulled back, holding Aadhya by her shoulders, her eyes shining with deep respect and love. "Aaj mera beta mere samne sahi salamat khada hai, tumhare wajha se."

(Today my son is standing safe and sound in front of me, only because of you.)

Aadhya smiled modestly, shaking her head. "Esa kuch nahi hai, Mom. Agar mere place mein Reyansh hota, toh woh bhi aisa hi karta."

(It's nothing like that, Mom. If Reyansh were in my place, he would have done the exact same thing.)

Reyansh looked down at Aadhya, his chest swelling with pride at her words.

Devika then turned her attention to Disha and Aryan, who were walking up the steps together. Seeing Disha's rounded, heavy seven-month bump, Devika face lit up with joy. She walked over and gave Disha a gentle, protective hug, taking extra care not to press against her stomach.

"Tu theek hai na, beta?" Devika asked warmly, cupping Disha's glowing cheek.

(Are you okay, child?)

Disha nodded with a bright, beautiful smile. "Haan, maa! Bilkul theek!"

(Yes, mom! Absolutely fine!)

Aryan stepped up beside his wife, placing a protective hand at the small of Disha's back, nodding at her mother to reassure her that both his wife and unborn child were in perfect health.

As they all moved inside the grand living room, the rest of the family gathered around. Vihaan, Reyansh's younger brother, rushed forward and threw his arms around Reyansh in a tight, bone-crushing bro-hug, cracking a joke to hide the tears in his eyes. Krish also stepped forward, hugging Reyansh tightly and patting his back with deep relief.

However, as the initial commotion of the reunion settled down, Aadhya's eyes fell upon a figure standing slightly away from the main group, near the grand staircase.

It was Riya.

Aadhya's body went slightly rigid, an awkward, uncomfortable silence settling over her. Past memories, misunderstandings, and painful confrontations flashed through her mind. Reyansh instantly noticed the shift in Aadhya's posture; his eyes narrowed slightly, his arm wrapping more tightly around Aadhya's waist in an instinctive protective gesture.

Seeing the tension in the room, Riya took a deep breath. She slowly walked forward, her head held low, looking genuinely humbled and remorseful.

She stopped a few feet away from Reyansh and Aadhya. Riya looked up at Reyansh first. "Welcome home, Reyansh. I'm really glad you're fully recovered."

Reyansh gave a small, polite nod, his expression guarded but no longer hostile. "Thank you, Riya."

Then, Riya turned completely toward Aadhya. She reached out trembling hands and gently took Aadhya's hands in hers. Aadhya looked at her, surprised by the sudden, soft gesture.

"I am so sorry, Aadhya... for whatever I have done to you," Riya said, her voice cracking with genuine guilt. "I know I targeted you intentionally, just because you were so close with Krish."

The entire living room fell dead silent. Even Aryan and Vihaan stood still, shocked by Riya's sudden, raw confession. Reyansh's jaw set, his dark eyes locked onto Riya, waiting to hear what else she had to say.

Riya swallowed hard, tears rising in her eyes as she continued.

"When we were in a relationship, you were never really there for me, Rey," Riya said, glancing briefly at Reyansh before looking back at Aadhya. "I felt so alone, so lost. And then Krish started talking to me. We were just good friends... until our breakup. After we broke up, Krish and I decided to give us a chance, and eventually, we fell in love."

She took a shaky breath, wiping a tear from her cheek. "And then... my accident happened. When I came back after my recovery, I saw Krish showing so much care and attention to Aadhya. I couldn't take it. I felt insecure, jealous, and terrified of losing him. So, I started targeting Aadhya by trying to get close to Reyansh again... just to hurt everyone."

Riya looked directly into Aadhya's eyes, her gaze filled with deep regret. "But in all of that madness, I forgot that I was doing something terrible. I was hurting innocent people. I am so, so sorry, Aadhya."

Aadhya listened carefully, her soft heart instantly understanding the pain and insecurity behind Riya's past actions. She squeezed Riya's hands gently.

"But Krish is like a brother to me..." Aadhya said softly, her voice pure and devoid of any anger.

"I got to know that later," Riya confessed, shaking her head at her own past foolishness. "I completely misunderstood your bond. I am so sorry for all the stress I caused you."

Aadhya didn't hesitate. She stepped forward, pulling Riya into a warm, forgiving hug. "It's okay, Riya. It's all in the past now. Let's just leave it there."

Riya closed her eyes, letting out a massive breath of relief as she hugged Aadhya back. The heavy weight of guilt that had been crushing her chest for months finally lifted.

Behind them, Krish stepped forward. A soft, loving smile touched his lips as he reached out, pulling Riya back against his chest and wrapping a supportive arm around her waist. He kissed the top of her head, silently comforting her.

Aryan, seeing the beautiful resolution to the long-standing conflict, walked over to Krish and Riya, giving Krish a warm side-hug and nodding respectfully at Riya, signaling that all past grudges were officially erased.

The heavy clouds of sickness, jealousy, and misunderstandings had finally vanished completely, leaving behind a home filled with warmth, forgiveness, and new beginnings.

Reyansh pulled Aadhya close against his side, his hand resting over her small baby bump, while across the room, Aryan wrapped his arms around a now-happy Disha, cradling her large bump.

They were finally home, whole, and loved.

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