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"Good morning," I said, my voice filled with affection, to the beauty who had captured my heart. With each passing day, my love for her only grew stronger.

"Good morning," she replied casually, brushing her lush locks. The warm orange rays of the sun danced across her beige-toned skin, illuminating it with a radiant glow. Her peach saree seemed to absorb the vibrant hue, enhancing her ethereal beauty.

As she struggled to tame her long, waist-length hair, I watched from my bed, entertained by her futile attempts. Every time she detangled one section, another would knot, leaving her frustrated.

Unable to resist, I rose from my cozy spot and walked behind her, picking up another comb from the table. She looked up, her brows furrowed in confusion.

Without a word, I sat down beside her and gently began to detangle her hair, strand by strand.

She didn't utter a word, but cooperated with me. Within minutes, every strand of hair was detangled again.

"Thanks!" she exclaimed, preparing to return to her work.

I gently grasped her wrist. "Do you need anything?" She inquired.

"Let me help!" I offered.

She scrutinized me, her gaze sweeping from head to toe. Then, she turned away, her back to me, her face toward the wall.

Undeterred, I began combing her hair once more, gently braiding it. "May I speak something, Ayla?" I ventured.

"Hmm..." she murmured.

"You know we're in this together!" I declared.

I sensed her watching me from the corner of her eye. "What do you want to say?" she queried directly.

"Something you might not want to hear, wife," I confessed.

She remained silent, so I continued, expressing my thoughts.

"Ayla, I may not know your childhood or your past, but the time we've shared has shown me one thing - you've locked yourself away, conserving your emotions, protecting yourself. I understand that your upbringing may have shaped you this way.

I may not fully comprehend your feelings, but I want you to know that you're no longer alone. We're in this together, and our experiences, though different, have woven us into a shared tapestry.

It's hard to break the habit of silence, to suddenly express yourself after years of concealment. But, my love, I'm here, all ears, ready to listen. Don't retreat into your cocoon, don't suffocate your emotions. You'll only hurt yourself more.

We're your family, Ayla. We won't judge you, no matter what. You're safe to unravel, to expose your vulnerabilities. Let us envelop you in love and support."

As I spoke, I watched Ayla's grip on the stool tighten, her knuckles turning white. I had shared many thoughts, but sensed there was still much she kept hidden. Spending time with her had given me glimpses of her inner world, yet I knew she hesitated to reveal more.

Her smiles, though fleeting, never quite reached her eyes. They were guarded, a shield against vulnerability. I recognized the struggle within her - the desire to open up, only to be halted by some unseen force.

I wasn't seeking to unearth all her secrets at once, but I wanted her to know she wasn't alone. I was here, we were here, and our bond was non judging. Families stood together, no matter what.

My thoughts drifted to a painful memory, threatening to resurface. I pushed it back, focusing on this fragile strength.

"Families don't judge," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "We accept, we support. You're safe with us."

I finished braiding her long hair and gently turned the stool, bringing her face-to-face with me. Her eyes remained tightly shut, even as she felt my gaze upon her. Her knuckles were white from gripping the stool.

With a heavy sigh, she slowly opened her eyes. Their clarity and silence were deceiving, for as our gazes met, I sensed the pain hidden beneath her calm exterior. Her expression, usually guarded, now revealed a glimmer of vulnerability.

I stood to leave, but her hand grasped mine, halting me. She flashed a faint smile. "I will... It's not much good or interesting, but..."

"Don't do it for my sake," I reassured her. "Only share when you're ready. Your comfort matters most."

She shook her head, beginning to speak.

"I want to tell you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Last time, we started with lies. This time, I want truth. No walls between us."

Her words hung in the air, heavy with emotion.

"Yes! I promise I will never hide anything from you or lie to you!" I said, extending my hand. She gripped it tightly, her tight-lipped smile hinting at desperation.

"So, where should we start?" she asked.

"Hmm, maybe from when I first remember," she added. She heaved a long sigh and began, "I don't remember anything before the age of 14. I woke up in a hospital room with only my uncle present. He told me my father and brother died in an accident, and then he took me to Italy."

A long silence fell between us. It was something unimaginable; I hadn't seen it coming. I looked at her pale face; she was holding herself together.

"I don't remember anything else about my family, just this and a few pictures I have of my parents," she continued. "According to what I know, my brother was younger than me, but..."

"But?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in question.

She began chewing her bottom lip, her eyes clouded with uncertainty as she gazed at me. I sensed her nervousness, a feeling that something was off, that words were about to spill from her lips that would change everything.

She simply stared at me, her silence stretching out like an elastic band. I had no idea what she'd say next, but I knew it would be unforeseen, something that would shake the foundations. Time ticked by, and my anticipation grew.

Don't get me wrong, I'm a patient person, but a sense of foreboding settled in the pit of my stomach. Something was coming, something that would alter the landscape about her life.

"Sometimes he was older, sometimes younger - I don't know what to believe. I can't ask my relatives; they always give the same answer: my mom married my dad, settled in India, and lost contact with them, so they had no knowledge of my family. They claim my uncle wanted to meet his sister, and that's how he found me. I was in the hospital for at least three days before he did."

I watched her, her eyes reddening at the corners as she spoke each word.

"Well, I tried really hard to investigate my parents' past, but I almost got caught by Uncle," she said, her voice trailing off.

"Almost?" I asked.

She nodded. "Yes, almost. So, I decided to stop digging and keep others out of it. He was a powerful person, ruthless and greedy."

Her gaze drifted, lost in thought.

"But why didn't he want you to know about your family? What's wrong with getting to know about your parents?" I started to say, but trailed off, hesitant to continue. If my guess was wrong, I didn't want to hurt her.

"He never wanted to meet or find my mother," she stated. "All he wanted was the shares I have under my name."

"My grandfather had a will," she continued. "When my mother was alive, he was the only person she was in contact with. She didn't talk to anyone else. In his will, he left his hard-built heritage to his grandchildren. My uncle wasn't aware of it until my grandfather died. After he passed away, he discovered that Jarek wasn't the only one with shares - I had them too. That's when he tried to find us, and eventually found me."

"So, he was..." The words died on my lips as I gazed into her eyes, searching for any hint of pain. But her gentle smile masked her emotions, leaving me uncertain.

I took a deep breath, my voice barely above a whisper. "Is there anyone else behind this? Or who else knows about it?"

Her response was immediate. "No one. Not even Jarek." She shook her head, her denial emphatic.

Without thinking, I pulled her close, my hands wrapping around her waist. "Come here," I whispered, needing to comfort her, or perhaps myself. The weight of her revelation settled heavy on my chest.

Betrayal by someone you trust cuts deepest. The wounds are more severe, more painful, and slower to heal than any inflicted by others. I knew this all too well, the memories of past hurts still tender.

As I held her, I felt her tension ease, her body molding into mine. She curled up against me, her head resting on my chest, our heartbeats synchronizing in a soothing harmony. Her breaths were still ragged, mirroring my own.

"There's one more difficult part that's yet to come," she said, a hint of nervousness in her chuckle as she lifted her head to meet my gaze.

"So, there's more?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

She nodded. "When I turned 18, I signed papers he gave me. I was still under his watch, but I gained some freedom, allowed to live on my own."

"And then you started working on Lucas?" I ventured.

Her expression turned wistful. "Yeah, kind of. Those were... complicated days. I was better off on my own, but..." Her voice trailed off.

"This is what I'm afraid of the most," she confessed, her eyes pleading. "But trust me, I don't know anything about it either. Please don't be mad at me."

"I know! I will trust you!" I whispered, kissing the crown of her head.

But her next words shattered the calm, sending a chill down my spine.

"I know about Ariv's kidnapping," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know if you're aware, but from what I've gathered, Ariv was kidnapped by the Rajvansh's. They hired someone, a man known as Girish Basu... or at least, that's the name he used."

My attention was riveted on her words, my mind racing with questions. Why bring up this painful topic now? Our family never spoke of it, the wound still raw.

"And?" I prompted, my voice low and urgent.

Her eyes locked onto mine, a mix of fear and resolve reflected in them.

"My whole life, I've known Girish Basu as my father's name."

"For a moment, I thought Ariv and Rudra were the same," she whispered, her voice trembling as she glanced at me, then quickly looked away.

"Did you do something?" I asked, my curiosity laced with concern.

A sour taste formed in my mouth as her words made it hard for me to breathe. I had dared to love someone entangled in a mess with my family.

I turned to her, my eyes searching for answers. She stole glances at me, her eyes darting away.

"What did you do?" I pressed, my tone sharper than intended.

"I took a DNA test," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

"What?" I exclaimed, incredulous. "Why?"

"I... I..." she stammered, "all the signs pointed to one thing: Ariv is my brother. That's why!"

Her words hung in the air, a bombshell that threatened to upend everything.

I stared at her, horrified, my eyes wide with disbelief. As I blinked, my face drained of color, leaving me pale and shaken.

Of all the conclusions I'd drawn, she'd arrived at this? Seriously? If Ariv was her brother, what would that make me to her? The thought sent a shiver down my spine. I swiftly dismissed the repulsive idea.

"This is absurd," I thought. "How can she even think this?"

Just then, she spoke, her voice a welcome respite. "The results are negative."

I exhaled deeply, relief washing over me. But the tension lingered, and my mind reeled with questions. Everything was so messy; I needed space to think.

"I have some important work," I said, my voice strained. "I'll be back soon."

Ayla's hazel-brown eyes met mine, her tight smile and nod a clear understanding. She went back to the mirror, her reflection a mask of calm.

I sat there, transfixed by her calm demeanor. Unlike a river that ripples when a stone is thrown, she remained unfazed, as serene as the ocean.

I needed to escape, to gather my thoughts. I rose and headed to the bathroom, seeking solace in solitude.

The cold water cascaded down my body, easing the tension that had been building. Droplets fell to the ground, washing away some of the emotional burden.

But her words had stirred long-dormant emotions, awakening wounds I thought had healed. Memories I'd suppressed for years resurfaced, echoing in my mind like whispers in the dark.

Muffled cries and murmurs from the past erupted into my consciousness once more. I recalled that fateful day, etched in my memory like a scar.

Memories of that fateful day flooded my mind - the day Chachu brought Ariv back, his tiny body shaken, Chachi's eyes brimming with tears. The scene had been too much for me to bear.

After a lengthy shower, I composed myself enough to face the world. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I stepped out.

My gaze met Ayla's, standing at the doorway with a subtle smile. I marveled at her calm demeanor, wondering how she could drop such a bombshell and remain unaffected.

"You should come for breakfast after getting dressed," she said, her voice measured, before retreating.

I exhaled, releasing pent-up emotions.