Omkara's pulse raced as he stepped out of the car. The sleek building of Sharma Industry loomed before him, glass panels reflecting the morning sun, pristine and authoritative. He adjusted his shirt one last time, ran a hand through his hair, and let out a slow breath. This was it. The first real step into a life he had abandoned six years ago.

Every instinct screamed caution. He didn't know what he would find inside, how Gauri would look, how their child would react, whether the sight of him would ignite anger, fear, or something softer. And yet, beneath the tension, a flutter of hope kept his steps moving forward.

As he approached the reception, he tried to ground himself. He reminded himself he wasn't here to claim, to demand, or to impose. He was here to see them, to understand, to start carefully, slowly, deliberately.

A young man at the desk looked up, slightly startled. "Can I help you?"

"Yes," Omkara said, his voice low but steady. "I'm here to see Ms. Gauri."

The man glanced at a directory and then picked up the phone. "Please wait a moment. I'll inform her office."

Omkara nodded, his hands flexing at his sides. He felt absurdly nervous, though he had faced battles, storms, and packs as an alpha. Nothing had ever made him feel this exposed, this vulnerable.

Minutes felt like hours. His mind wandered, as it always did when he thought of Gauri, the curve of her smile, the way her hair fell over her shoulders, the strength in her eyes that had captivated him from the first time they met. He remembered teasing her, trying to resist her, and failing miserably. He had left, yes, but never without her, never without the echo of her in his heart.

And now, now he would see her. After all these years.

The receptionist looked up again. "Ms. Gauri will see you now. Please follow me."

Omkara's heart pounded. He followed, every step measured, careful. He didn't know what awaited him, he didn't know if Rikara would be there, if she was a girl or boy, how old, what she would think of him. But he imagined her anyway: bright eyes, small hands, maybe a shy smile. Could she ever forgive him? Could she even like him? He had been absent for six years, even before she was born.

He paused outside the door, hand on the frame. His reflection in the glass reminded him of the man he had been, and the man he wanted to be. The pendant OM rested against his chest, a quiet talisman of the night that had created this life, and the love he had never truly let go of.

He stepped inside.

But it wasn't Gauri who met his gaze. Two men stood before him instead. Their presence was solid, grounding, and unyielding, like twin walls he would have to navigate before reaching her.

He took a slow breath, letting his alpha instincts guide him even as his heart tightened with anxiety. The man at the front looked older, sturdier, eyes sharp and assessing. Beside him, a younger man stood with the same careful caution, arms loosely crossed, watching him as though measuring every step, every intention.

Omkara straightened his shoulders, trying to exude calm. "I'm Omkara," he said, voice steady despite the storm of nerves inside him. "I came to see Gauri."

Her father's gaze was steady, unreadable. The brother's eyes flicked to the receptionist before returning to him, a hint of challenge in the set of his jaw.

He shifted his weight, noticing the subtle tension in the room. Questions, silent and piercing, hung in the air. Would they judge him for the years he had been absent, for the life he had left behind?

And yet, even amidst the tension, Omkara's thoughts strayed to the child he had never met. Was it a daughter or a son? Would they know him as the father who had never been there, or would they feel some trace of the bond that had been denied so long? He swallowed hard. Could he even hope to make up for six years of absence, for the pain of a mother and child who had been left behind?

The pendant OM pressed against his chest, a quiet reminder of Gauri, of the night that had changed everything, and of the love he had never fully let go of.

He straightened his shoulders again. "I don't intend to disrupt anything," he said, eyes moving between the two men. "I just want to understand, to meet her safely."

The older man's expression softened slightly, just enough to acknowledge the honesty in his voice. The younger man remained wary, but Omkara could see the flicker of curiosity behind the caution.

For the first time in years, he felt the weight of possibility, hope tangled with fear. Beyond these two men lay Gauri, and perhaps, the child he had longed for in secret.

And Omkara took a deliberate step forward. One step closer to them, and to the life he had left behind but never stopped carrying in his heart.

The older man finally spoke, voice calm but firm. "I'm Kumar Sharma, Gauri's father. This is Karan Sharma, her brother."

Omkara understood immediately. This was the buffer Dhruv had intended. He had to earn their trust first. And in that moment, Omkara allowed himself a tiny spark of courage, ready to face the father, the brother, and the life he had abandoned, one careful step at a time.