Santorini.
Day Two

The morning sun rose slowly over the Aegean Sea. Khushi and Arnav stood on their private balcony, watching the soft waves with mugs of Greek coffee in hand. Asha was still asleep, curled up in a tangle of white sheets, a plush donkey toy clutched to her chest.

“She’s never slept this peacefully before.” Khushi whispered and Arnav with his arms around her waist.

“Neither have you in over six months because of the start up.”

Khushi smiled and nodded and they shared a soft kiss before tiptoeing into the villa.

Later, they dressed Asha in a white dress with blue embroidery and took a stroll through Oia’s narrow alleys. Locals smiled at the affectionate family, and Arnav even bought Khushi a delicate sapphire pendant from a small artisan shop.

That afternoon, they sailed on a private boat. The sea was calm, the wind warm, and laughter rang across the water as Asha threw grapes at Arnav and Khushi danced with her barefoot on deck.

Arnav and Khushi were happy not listening to Shyam about bringing Asha on their honeymoon.

Seeing Asha happy made them happy.

That night, under a canopy of fairy lights and stars, Arnav knelt down not for a second proposal but to gift Khushi an architectural sketchbook he had secretly commissioned. Every page had a scene from her journey, from her first university model to MIT, to getting the company on the map.

Khushi teared up seeing this and looked up at a smiling Arnav and whispered.

“This… is my story.” Arnav nodded and kissed her forehead.

“It’s only the beginning, love.”

They kissed, with Asha clapping beside them.

A Shady Café in Delhi, Anjali sat across from a tabloid journalist she once manipulated Sameer Rawal a man known for salacious headlines.

“I want the truth out.”

“You mean your version of it.” Sameer smirked behind his cup of tea and Anjali smirked back.

“Let’s call it perspective........A young woman comes into a rich family, seduces the heir, steals the baby from her mother, and becomes a global darling.......Sound interesting enough?”

Sameer leaned in, intrigued. But even he looked unsure.

“Khushi’s reputation is strong now.......And after MIT, the wedding, her successful company and the Greece trip, she’s a star.”

“Then let’s dim that star.” She said and slid a USB drive across the table. It contained doctored images, spliced audio clips, and fabricated emails materials meant to insinuate Khushi,Payal and Preeto schemed from the start.

Sameer hesitated but nodded.

“You never give up do you? " Anjali glared at him. " It’ll be published by morning.”

Back at her tiny apartment, Anjali stared at the photo of her family on the wall now outdated and broken.

“You think you’ve won, Khushi?.......Let’s see how the world reacts now.”

India.

Morning Headlines

The nation woke up to blaring headlines and trending hashtags:

“MIT Gold Medalist or Gold Digger? The Dark Truth Behind Khushi Kumari Gupta’s Rise.”

Inside were fabricated quotes, fake emails between Preeto, Payal and Khushi, and twisted timelines making it look like Khushi lured Arnav, stole Asha from Anjali, and manipulated the Raizadas for fame and wealth.

Social media buzzed but this time, the wave of defense was stronger as everyone pointed fingers at Anjali.

MIT professors and peers quickly issued statements in Khushi’s support.

Shyam, in a rare televised interview, called the article “a disgraceful piece of fiction.”

Manohar, Akash, Buaji, Payal, and Preeto posted heartfelt stories and pictures of Khushi’s kindness, talent, and loyalty.

By evening, the family’s legal team had slapped Sameer Rawal and the publishing company with a ₹50 crore defamation suit.

And then came the masterstroke: Arnav Singh Raizada’s post.

“This is Khushi Kumari Gupta. MIT graduate. Architect. Daughter. Aunt. Love of my life. You think you can shake her with lies? We stand stronger now than ever. #TruthWillPrevail”

It went viral in minutes. Celebrities, influencers, alumni, and even feminist collectives stood behind Khushi and condemned Anjali. Some went as far as condemning the justice system for the long period it takes to get justice.

Anjali, meanwhile, was spiraling. She was bombarded with backlash, her lies unraveling fast. Sameer refused to protect her, fearing jail. And when she called the family for help, no one picked up.

Santorini.
The Night Before Departure

The villa was filled with candlelight and soft music. Asha lay asleep with a seashell in hand, and Khushi sat on the terrace wrapped in a shawl, looking at the sea.

Arnav came from behind and placed a soft kiss on her shoulder.

“I don’t want this to end.” Khushi whispered softly

“It’s not ending, love........We’re just taking this peace back home with us even after Anjali's stunt. ”

“You always say the right thing.” Khushi chuckled and Arnav smirked

He knelt beside her, holding her hand.

“That’s because I finally have the right person.”

They spent the night talking under the stars about the home they wanted to build, the offices Khushi would open to employ and train more people in the field, and how Asha had turned their world into something beautiful.

Khushi fell asleep with her head on Arnav’s lap, and he whispered:

“No lies, no noise… Just us. Always.”

Delhi International Airport.
Arrivals Terminal

The sliding doors parted, and Khushi, dressed in a soft blush pink kurti and jeans, walked hand in hand with Arnav, while four-year-old Asha skipped ahead between them, holding a tiny plush camel from Greece which a fan of Khushi gave her.

Outside, the Gupta and Raizada families waited with flowers, balloons, and wide smiles.

Buaji ran to them first, hugging Khushi and Asha so tightly that Arnav had to rescue Asha from being squished.

Manohar hugged Arnav with silent pride, and Akash and Payal held hands as they grinned at the little family reunion.

Preeto arrived with a handmade sign that read: “THE QUEEN RETURNS!”

Even the media, for once, was respectful.

Cameramen captured the scenes in respectful distance, and online, clips of Arnav lifting Asha in the air and Khushi hugging Buaji went viral again cementing their status as not just a couple, but a unit of family,resilience and love.

As they drove to Shyam’s mansion, Asha sang her Greece nursery rhymes she learned from the househelp at the villa, and Arnav reached out to squeeze Khushi’s hand.

“We’re home, Mrs.Raizada.” Khushi grinned and nodded.

“Let the chaos begin.”

The once-majestic Anjali looked frail sitting in a dim room, save for the glow of Anjali’s phone screen. She stared at the news reports, her face pale and lips trembling.

Her lies had been fully exposed.

Her defamation lawsuit was thrown out after Shyam’s evidences and Sameer Rawal’s confession under pressure.

The publishing house was sued, and in exchange for leniency, Sameer gave up voice recordings of Anjali's instructions.

Her bank accounts remained frozen, her reputation shredded beyond repair, and her once-loyal Nani and Mami now stayed silent.

Anjali screamed, sweeping the photo frames off her mantel, pictures of her and baby Asha that no longer mattered.

She tried calling Manohar, Shyam, even Mami.

No one answered.

Finally, she tried Arnav’s number.

Blocked.

With shaking hands, she dropped the phone, falling to the floor, her sobs echoing off the high ceilings of the apartment.

The camera peeking through her window captured her disheveled form, and outside the gate, media vans now camped permanently, waiting for a glimpse of the woman who fell from grace.

She was alone the very fate she had tried to engineer for Khushi.

Four months later.
Delhi High Court.
Courtroom No. 7.

The courtroom was filled with spectators, media personnel, and legal representatives. The case: Raizada and Gupta Family vs. Anjali Raizada  for defamation, attempted custody manipulation, intentional emotional distress, and slander against Khushi Gupta, Shyam Jha, Payal Gupta and Preeto Mehra.

Anjali sat at the defendant’s table, dressed in a simple saree, stripped of all her usual opulence. Her eyes were hollow, her hair untamed. Her lawyer whispered strategy, but she barely nodded.

Across the aisle sat the entire Raizada-Gupta family.

Arnav and Khushi, poised, calm, holding hands.

Shyam and Preeto, with Asha sitting quietly between them.

Manohar, Akash, Buaji, and Payal, all unified in silence.

When the judge asked Anjali if she had anything to say before sentencing, she stood slowly.

“I... I only wanted my daughter back......I lost everything......I was alone......They pushed me away... all of them…”

The judge stared at her, unimpressed and spoke.

“What you did was not out of love.......It was vengeance.........And you used a child as a pawn......You orchestrated lies, defamed a woman’s character, and dragged your family’s name through the mud.”

The gavel slammed.

“You are sentenced to 5 years probation with mandated psychiatric treatment.........You are barred from contacting Asha Jha, Khushi Gupta, or any member of the Gupta or Raizada family directly or indirectly for 10 years......Violations will result in immediate incarceration.”

Gasps spread across the courtroom. Anjali’s knees buckled, and she had to be held by a bailiff.

The court rose. Arnav stared at his sister, not with hate but with pity and he leaned  and whispered quietly to Khushi.

“It’s over.”

Days later, a joint statement was released by the Raizada and Gupta families.

“Anjali Raizada is no longer associated with the Raizada family estate, businesses, or trusts. We respect her legal rights, but she is no longer a spokesperson for the family.”

Meanwhile, media houses that once thrived on scandal turned silent. Legal pressure and reputation management by Arnav and Shyam’s legal teams ensured no outlet dared fuel Anjali’s narrative again.

Anjali left Delhi, reportedly moving to a wellness facility in South India for mandated treatment. No photos surfaced. No more headlines.

Just silence.

Three months later.
The Grand Garden, New Delhi

Decorated in soft pastels, glowing fairy lights, marigolds, and jasmine

The gentle evening breeze carried the scent of flowers and celebration as the Raizada and Gupta mansions stood transformed into a dreamlike venue. Laughter, music, and love hung thick in the air.

Guests gathered under the mandap, split into two symmetrical halves one for Shyam and Preeto, the other for Akash and Payal. The mandap was a stunning fusion of tradition and modern elegance, with two sets of garlands, two sacred fires, and a single destiny.

Asha, dressed in a red lehenga matching Preeto’s, ran barefoot through the petals as she giggled uncontrollably. Her smile was brighter than the chandeliers above.

Buaji, Manohar, Khushi, Arnav, and the rest of the family watched in quiet awe. This moment was earned with blood, tears, love, and unwavering unity.

Shyam, dressed in ivory sherwani with an emerald brooch pinned to his chest, stood in front of the mirror nervously adjusting his turban as Arnav entered.

“You’ve argued in Supreme Court with head held high and against the big shots, and you're sweating over a girl?”

Shyam smiling shaking his head.

“It’s different........I’m not just becoming a husband….......I’m beginning again officially and this time with the right person.”

Arnav patted his shoulder and smiled.

In the bride’s suite, Preeto sat still as Khushi adjusted her dupatta. Her hands trembled.

“Why the jitters? .......You love him......He loves you. And Asha? That child adores you.” Khushi said as Payal already dressed nodded in agreement.

“Because this isn’t just a wedding......This is a promise to a man who’s been broken, a child who has trusted me to be her mother, and to myself that I will be enough.”

Khushi hugged her tightly.

“You already are, Preeto.......More than enough.” Payal already dress in her bridal lehenga said and hugged her as they trio laughed.

The Wedding Ceremony

As the sun dipped low, the grooms stood side by side Shyam calm but emotional, Akash fidgeting nervously.

Then came the brides.

Payal walked in first, graceful and radiant, her eyes never leaving Akash’s. Behind her, Preeto entered with Asha holding her hand, drawing a loud, collective aww from the guests.

Both brides looking radiant and their men were mesmerized.

Asha’s voice echoed proudly:

“That’s my Preeto maa and my Payal maasi”

The crowd melted as the family laughed.

The ceremony began. Vows were spoken in the soft chant of Sanskrit hymns. Garland exchanges, laughter, teasing especially from Khushi and Buaji filled the air.

During Preeto and Shyam’s pheras, Asha stood holding petals, tossing them over them after each round.

When the priest declared them husband and wife, Asha jumped into Shyam’s arms and screamed:

“Yay! My family is complete!”

Tears welled up in everyone’s eyes.

Then came Akash and Payal’s sindoor ritual, and Mami who had now softened with time and reflection stepped forward, blessing her new daughter-in-law warmly.

She knew they will never fully be mother and daughter in law but she was happy getting the opportunity to see Akash marry Payal thanks to Shashi's insistence.

Post Wedding Reception

The reception was magical drapes, soft music, glittering lights. The families danced, laughed, and toasted to new beginnings.

Khushi and Arnav stood at the sidelines, arms around each other.

“You think love like this happens for everyone?” Khushi asked and Arnav  smiled looking at her.

“No....... Just to the lucky ones who fight for it.”

Khushi giggled and nodded as Arnav held her tightly.

In a quiet corner, Asha sat between Shyam and Preeto, her eyes half closed with sleep and Asha mumbling sleepily.

“Best day ever…” Preeto kissed her forehead and Shyam took her tiny hand.

And under the stars, two couples sealed not just a marriage but a future filled with unity, healing, and eternal love.

R&G Estate, Delhi.
10 Years Later.

The sun bathed the sprawling gardens of the AR estate in golden light. Giggles echoed across the lawns where children darted around, chased by laughing grandparents. The air carried the aroma of jasmine, marigold, and freshly baked sweets from the kitchen.

It was a rare weekend where everyone, every branch of the once-twisted, now-unbreakable family tree was home.

A loud squeal broke the hum of chatter.

“Papa, he took my sketchbook!” came a voice.

Khushi, now in her mid-30s, radiant in a crisp cotton saree with ink-stained fingers, turned from the patio.

“Arsh, give your sister her sketchbook. She’s designing a rocket-house,” She called, amused.

Arsh, one of her energetic twin boys, rolled his eyes dramatically and gave it back to his little sister, Anaya Raizada, who looked every bit like a mini Khushi with her spirited smile and artistic streak.

Arnav, with salt-and-pepper hair and the same intensity in his eyes, walked up behind Khushi and wrapped his arms around her.

“They’re all you,” he whispered into her ear.

“Good,” she whispered back, grinning. “They have my brains and your business sense.”

Their four children, Aarav, the eldest at 9, twins Arsh and Advay, 7, and little Anaya  5 were the perfect chaos.

Khushi, now hailed as one of the most sought-after architects in the world, had just returned from a TEDx talk in Tokyo. Her latest sustainable housing model had won a global innovation award.

Arnav, whose conglomerate now ranked in the top 10 business empires worldwide, still made time to be home for breakfast and dinner. He credited it all to one decision falling in love with Khushi Kumari Gupta Raizada.

Elsewhere on the Lawn of the family home, Shyam and Preeto, now running a prestigious law firm specializing in family and children’s rights, laughed as their twin boys, Shaan and Shiv, played tag with their teenage sister Asha, now 14 and a brilliant, headstrong girl.

“Maa, they’re ruining my project!” Asha groaned, though smiling just like her father.

“If you can’t win an argument with them, you’ll never survive law school.” Shyam yelled out from the patio as Preeto laughed.

“Or childhood.” Preeto yelled out as both her and Shyam laughed and Asha smiled shaking her head and took off chasing her brothers whose laughter filled the garden.

Akash and Payal sat under the shade of a blooming gulmohar tree.

Payal, in a smart dress with fabric pins clipped to her sleeves, was flipping through designs on her tablet with a serious face.

“This shade of emerald, it’s the season’s soul.”

Akash, now Financial Director of ARD and more confident than ever, smiled at his wife.

“If it’s your soul, it’s our profit.” He said smiling staring at Payal intensely which made her blush.

Their 5-year-old son Vivaan came sprinting with Asha and the others in tow.

“Papa! I beat Arsh in running!”

“Lies!” Arsh yelled. “I let you win because you're younger!”

Payal and Akash shook their head and watched the boys argue.

If there was one thing they have learned, is to never interfere when the fights between the cousins and siblings because it takes seconds for them to make up and make your the enemy.

On the veranda, Manohar, Shashi, Buaji, and Garima sat in comfortable chairs, sipping chai and watching the family they built thrive.

“This…....this is everything we ever prayed for.” Shashi whispered softly and Manohar nodded smiling.

“Not bad for a bunch of oldies, eh?” They all laughed.

Buaji, still sharp-tongued but with a warm heart, added spoke.

“Who knew that the quiet Payaliya, the resilient Preeto and the storm called Khushi would be queens of this palace.”

They all chuckled as they watched the entire family from the rooftop of the mansion contentedly with how their lives turned out so good for them and their children.

A framed portrait of Nani sat near the central mandir inside the apartment,flowers always fresh by her side. She had passed peacefully a few months after Anjali’s sentencing, content knowing her grandsons were finally happy.

Mami, having left for her village for a fresh start and used her huge alimony to open a school where she teaches Sanskrit and dance, had written often. Before leaving, she had bowed before Payal and Khushi, asked for forgiveness, and blessed the couples.

Her final words: “I was wrong........You’re the best thing to happen to my Akash bitwa.”

Anjali, once consumed by jealousy and schemes, had disappeared after a breakdown following her sentencing. No one knew where she was and no one chased the past. They had made peace with it.

The Raizadas and Guptas were focused on love, growth, and legacy.

As the sun began to set, the entire family gathered for a photo. Children on laps, spouses holding hands, grandparents in chairs, and love in every frame.

“Say ‘Raizada-Gupta Forever!” The photographer yelled out and everyone screamed.

“RAIZADA-GUPTA FOREVER!”

The shutter clicked and in that moment, the legacy of pain, redemption, and love was sealed not in ink, but in generations.

Generations of children who will learn to stand up for right which all started with the Clash of Siblings.

The end.

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