The night had folded itself around Raichand Mansion like a velvet cloak, quiet, dignified, and heavy with expectation. In the study, a soft golden lamp burned low, casting warm pools of light across shelves lined with books and Jagdish Raichand stood by the window, hands clasped behind his back, watching the city lights blink distantly beyond the garden walls. Rajlaxmi sat on the sofa, a book untouched laying in her lap and worry itched on her face.

“Shekhar will be back from New York tonight,” Jagdish said quietly, without turning around. “I want you to speak to him again about the marriage.”

Rajlaxmi sighed, setting the book aside. “I have tried on calls, General Sahab. But you know how he is. He will listen to me with all the respect in the world and then do exactly what he wants.”

“Then this time, don’t ask him,” Jagdish replied, finally turning to face her. His expression was calm but firm. “Tell him like a mother should. He needs to understand that this isn’t just about him anymore. It’s about our family, our future, our legacy.”

Rajlaxmi’s brows furrowed gently. “And if he still says no?”

“Then I will make him see reason,” Jagdish said, his voice lowering with quiet determination. “He’s stubborn, but he is not foolish. Deep down, he knows I will never choose wrong for him.”

Rajlaxmi looked at her husband for a long moment, the weight of his words sinking in. “You really believe this girl is right for him?”

“I don’t just believe it,” Jagdish said softly. “I know it.”

Before Rajlaxmi could respond, the sharp ring of the intercom cut through the silence. Jagdish crossed the room and picked up the receiver.

“Sir,” came the voice of the guard on duty, slightly breathless, “someone is here to see you. He says his name is Kulbhushan Rajawat.”

Jagdish’s eyes narrowed slightly. “At this hour?”

“Yes, sir. He says it’s urgent.”

There was a short pause before Jagdish replied. “Bring him inside. Treat him with respect.”

“Yes, sir.”

He placed the receiver back and turned to Rajlaxmi, a faint crease forming between his brows. 

“Who is it?” Rajlaxmi asked.

“The father has come.” He answered.

“The girl’s father?” Rajlaxmi asked, surprised.

“Hmm,” Jagdish murmured, straightening his robe. “But I wonder what brings him at this hour.”

He stepped out of his study and walked towards the main hall. The soft hum of the chandelier above filled the silence and then the front doors opened.

Kulbhushan Rajawat stood there, framed in the doorway, and the sight made even the general’s chest tighten. The dignified, composed man he had met in Fatehpur Beri was gone. In his place was a father who looked as if the world had collapsed beneath his feet.

His kurta was creased and dusty, streaked with what looked like dried mud and dried blood in the corner of his lips. His hair was dishevelled, his face pale, his eyes hollow from sleeplessness. There was desperation in his every breath, and his hands shook slightly even though they were folded in respect.

“Mr. Rajawat…” Jagdish said, stepping forward, concern flickering across his stern features. “What on earth happened to you?”

Kulbhushan opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught somewhere in his throat. And when they finally came, they were hoarse and broken, the voice not of a proud landowner, but of a terrified father.

“General sahab…” he said, his voice trembling. “I had no choice but to come.”

And in that single sentence, Jagdish Raichand knew something was terribly, terribly wrong.

For a long moment, Jagdish didn’t speak. The weight of Kulbhushan’s words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Then, with a silent nod, he gestured towards the armchair near the hearth.

“Please,” he said quietly, “sit down.”

But Kulbhushan didn’t move. He stood rooted to the spot, his fingers twisting the hem of his kurta, his breath shallow. It was as if the very act of being there had drained the last of his strength.

“Mr. Rajawat,” Jagdish said again, this time more gently, “Whatever it is, speak freely. You don't have to be afraid of anyone.”

Kulbhushan swallowed hard, his eyes flickering briefly to the polished floor beneath his feet. And then he spoke slowly at first, then in a rush, as if the words had been bottled up for too long.

“They came to my house tonight,” he said hoarsely. “Maheshwari’s men. Five of them. They forced their way into the haveli… to threaten… threaten me ... .but…she was alone in haveli at that time and they threatened her…..”

Jagdish’s jaw clenched hearing Maheshwari’s mention. “Threatened her?”

Kulbhushan’s voice cracked. “They said if I don’t hand over the land papers by tomorrow morning… they will come back. Not for the land. For her.”

Silence. Thick, suffocating silence.

Jagdish’s fists clenched in fury and Rajlaxmi, who had quietly entered the room moments earlier, gasped softly, one hand flying to her mouth. “Oh, dear God…”

“They shoved me to the ground in my own courtyard,” Kulbhushan continued, his breath hitching. “I tried to fight, but I am not a young man anymore. They humiliated me in front of my daughter and she… she wept like a child. I have never seen such fear in her eyes. My daughter is terrified. I don't know what to do so I just came here….Please…General Sahab…”

Jagdish took a slow, deliberate step closer. “Where is she now?”

Kulbhushan’s lips trembled. “In the car. Outside your gate. I told her to stay there until I returned.”

“And you brought her here… tonight?” Jagdish asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes,” Kulbhushan whispered. “Because there’s nowhere else left for me to go. I am very simple man Mr. Raichand. I don't know anyone who could help me. I can’t even go to the police. You know better than anyone else how the system works. It only hears the powerful man and crushes the powerless man without any mercy. And Maheshwari ... .who he is and what he is capable of, you know that very well. I can't stand in front of that man but I also have to protect my child over everything. So, I brought her here.”

For the first time in years, Jagdish felt the old soldier’s fury rise in his chest, not the cold anger of business or politics, but the burning rage of a man who had sworn to protect the innocent.

“They will not touch your daughter,” he said quietly, every word carrying the weight of a command. “I give you my word.”

Kulbhushan’s eyes filled with tears, not of weakness, but of a desperate father’s relief. “General sahab… I am a proud man. I have never begged in my life. But tonight, I beg you… save my daughter. I will agree to whatever you ask. I will give my consent to this marriage. I will place her hand in your son’s if it means she will be safe. I just want her to be safe and happy.”

The room went still again. Rajlaxmi looked at her husband, and for the first time, saw not the formidable General Raichand or the ruthless patriarch of a business empire, but a man who understood exactly what it meant to be a father.

Kulbhushan continued….

“Because after what happened this evening, I know she will never be safe, not as long as this land exists. As long as it’s here, some hungry wolf will always sniff its scent and come for her.” He sniffled. “I never imagined that the very land I was preserving for her future would one day become a curse around her neck…. Please, I beg you. Save her…save my daughter.” The man cried out in helplessness. His hands still joined in front of Jagdish.

Jagdish stepped forward and gently held Kulbhushan's joined hands.. “You are not begging, Mr. Rajawat,” he said softly. “You are doing what any father would do.”

“You are a powerful man, if your hand is placed on her head, no one will ever dare to even raise their eyes towards her. I cannot describe how helpless I feel today.” His voice trembled. “I am an old man….. here today, gone tomorrow but I cannot leave my innocent daughter alone in this cruel world.”

The helplessness and pain in his voice even shock the army man standing in front of him.

“Today they only came with threats. But what if tomorrow they do something to me… and my Naintara….no… no. Before that happens, I want to place her safely in the right hands.” Kulbhushan begged. “My daughter… please make her the honour of your home. I beg you,” he sobbed again and again, repeating the same words over and over.

At that moment, he was no longer speaking as a proud man, only as a father. A father whose heart and mind were consumed entirely by fear, the fear of losing his daughter to the monsters circling her.

Before Jagdish could respond, a voice from a distance cut through the heavy air.

“Dad, what’s going on here?”

It was Shekhar. He had been standing near the hallway and had heard almost everything Kulbhushan said. And now, some things were starting to make sense to him but there were still pieces of the puzzle that were beyond his understanding.

Everyone turned to look at him. Seeing the tears glistening in Kulbhushan’s eyes and listening to the pain in his pleading voice, even Shekhar began to realise why his father’s face had softened with sympathy for this man.

But before Shekhar could ask any more questions, Jagdish glanced at his wife and Rajlaxmi understood immediately.

“Shekhar,” she said quickly, walking up to her son and taking his arm, “you’re back from a long journey. You must be exhausted. Come, you should rest.”

“No, one second, Maa. I need to speak to Dad. And what is Mr. Rajawat doing here at this hour….”

“Whatever it is, I will handle it,” Jagdish interrupted firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re tired from the flight. Go and get some rest.”

There was something about his father’s voice, that commanding firmness which made Shekhar stop. He didn’t say another word. He simply nodded silently and walked away with his mother. He didn’t want to create a scene in front of a stranger.

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Rajawat,” Jagdish said once Shekhar had gone. “I didn’t want him to know about what Maheshwari did, not yet. Because this is not just a business rivalry between them… there’s a history there.” He sighed. “And if he had found out tonight, just hours after returning from New York, things could have gotten… out of hand.”

Kulbhushan just stood there, trying to absorb Jagdish’s words. His own mind wasn’t functioning clearly anymore.

“But one thing I can assure you,” Jagdish said, his voice turning sharp and deliberate, “what Maheshwari did, daring to even look at the woman who will become part of this house, he will pay for it. That is a promise.”

As he said this, Jagdish placed a reassuring hand on Kulbhushan’s shoulder. “From now on, you have nothing to fear. Maheshwari will be Shekhar’s responsibility to take care of because Naintara will soon be his responsibility.”

Tears welled in Kulbhushan’s eyes once more, and he instinctively reached out to fold his hands in gratitude. But Jagdish caught them mid-air before they could.

“Please, don’t make me feel embarrassed,” Jagdish said gently. “You are my soon-to-be samdhi, my family now.”

And with that, he pulled Kulbhushan into a brief embrace, sealing the bond with the warmth of family before the alliance had even been formalised.

“It’s late. Let’s bring Naintara inside,” Jagdish suggested.

“No, Mr. Raichand… not before the wedding,” Kulbhushan said hesitantly. After all, he was still a man of old traditions. “You’ve already listened to me, that’s enough for me tonight. We will stay in a dharamshala (rest house) somewhere…”

“Why? If you’re not comfortable here, we have many other houses. You can stay in any of them,” Jagdish interrupted.

“It’s the same thing,” Kulbhushan replied quietly.

“Then let it be this way,” Jagdish said firmly. “Go home tonight, because I give you my word, with the first light of dawn, I will be at your door… to formally ask for our Naintara’s hand. You won’t go alone. I’m sending my guards with you. And you needn’t fear those street dogs anymore… because from this moment on, Naintara is a Raichand.”

“I can never repay this favour…”

“No, Mr. Rajawat,” Jagdish interrupted again, this time folding his hands. “It is I who am indebted to you, for entrusting us with a daughter as precious as a diamond. You cannot imagine the joy you have given me by saying yes to this alliance.”

Jagdish himself walked Kulbhushan to his car and gave strict orders to his most trusted guards to escort them home and ordered them to guard them with their life.

Before the car departed, he placed a comforting hand on Naintara’s head. The girl slowly lifted her tear-stained eyes to look at him.

“Don’t be afraid, beta,” Jagdish said softly. “You have not one but two fathers now. And together, we will gouge out the eyes of anyone who dares to look at you with ill intent.”

Hearing those words, Naintara’s heartbeat quickened. She understood in that moment that her father had accepted the marriage proposal.

Before leaving, Kulbhushan once again folded his hands in gratitude before Jagdish and drove away. The guards followed their car as instructed.

Naintara didn’t ask a single question on the way back. But inside, her heart felt broken, broken that for the sake of a piece of land, her father had been reduced to such helplessness that he had to beg for help.

She was angry at herself too, angry for not being born a boy. Because if she had been, at least she would have had the strength to fight the kind of men who threatened her father.

The whole journey back home, neither father nor daughter said a single word. As soon as they reached the haveli, the guards took their positions outside while father and daughter quietly stepped inside.

“Go and rest for a while, beta,” Kulbhushan said, gently placing his hand on her head. “We’ll have some guests coming tomorrow morning. Rest before that and don’t be afraid anymore.”

Naintara wanted to say so much, there were a thousand questions swirling inside her but after seeing the helplessness in her father’s eyes today, after watching him crumble under humiliation, she couldn’t utter a single word. Silently, she walked into her room.

There, on one wall, hung a small picture of Krishna. Naintara walked straight to it and stood before it, her constant confidant, the one being she could share everything with without fear or hesitation.

“Madhav…” she whispered, her voice breaking, “why didn’t you make me a boy? If I were a boy, I could have been my father’s strength. I wouldn’t have to stand here so helpless, watching him bow his head in fear.”

Outside her room, standing by the door, Kulbhushan heard every word. And in that moment, whatever was left of his broken courage shattered completely.

Sometimes, the fathers of daughters truly become so powerless that no path remains before them. And now, Kulbhushan was trapped in that very same helplessness. All he prayed for was that this would be the last night his daughter would ever cry, that after tonight, tears would never touch her eyes again.