While the Taneja Mansion was echoing with laughter and the smell of fresh parathas, the atmosphere in Tihar Jail was suffocating. 

The air was thick with the scent of damp stone and unwashed skin.

Author's POV:

In a corner of a dimly lit cell, Dev Singhania was crouched against the cold wall. He looked like a shell of a man, his body thin and his clothes tattered. 

He moved his upper body back and forth rhythmically, his eyes a terrifying shade of bloodshot red. They were blank, staring at nothing, yet overflowing with tears that he didn't even seem to feel.

Suddenly, his rocking stopped. His neck snapped to the right, fixing his gaze on the wall where he had used a piece of white chalk to draw a portrait of Anjali.

He scrambled to his feet, his movements jerky and uncoordinated.

 He rushed toward the wall, his breath hitching as he reached out to stroke the chalk-drawn face. "Gulaab..." he whispered, his voice a raspy, dry vibration. 

"Meri Gulaab... hum phir milenge na?"

As he caressed the drawing, he didn't realize his fingers were raw and bleeding from scratching at the stone floor.

 His blood smeared across the white chalk, staining Anjali's forehead and eyes in a messy, dark red.

Dev's eyes widened. He stepped back as if he had been slapped, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps.

 "Ganda ho gaya..." he whispered, his voice trembling.

 "Nahi, nahi, nahi... ganda ho gaya! Maine use ganda kar diya!"

His face contorted, the grief instantly turning into a high-pitched, manic rage.

 He turned toward the iron bars of his cell and began to scream, the sound echoing through the corridor like a wounded animal.

"Aye! Officer! Kahan mar gaye sab?" he shrieked, banging his bloodied fists against the bars.

 "Saaf karna hai ise! Iska chehra saaf karo abhi ke abhi! Tumhe dikh nahi raha? Meri Gulaab ro rahi hai! Use khoon pasand nahi hai!"

A weary police officer walked over, banging his baton against the bars to quiet him down. 

"Chup kar, saale pagal! Subah-subah kyu dhol baja raha hai? Baith ja chup-chap."

Dev didn't back down. He pressed his face against the bars, a terrifying, crooked smile spreading across his lips even as tears streamed down his face.

"Oye, sun..." Dev whispered, his voice suddenly dropping to a chilling, calm tone. 

"Tujhe pata hai woh kitni sundar hai? Agar usne apne upar ye daag dekh liya na, toh woh mujhse baat nahi karegi. Aur agar usne mujhse baat nahi ki, toh main ye poori jail jala dunga. Tu saaf karega ya main tera khoon nikaal ke is wall ko paint karoon? Bol!"

The officer, a burly man named Deshmukh who had seen enough criminals to last a lifetime, snatched the keys from his belt.

 The rattling of the iron gate was the only warning Dev got before the door swung open with a heavy thud.

Deshmukh stepped inside, his face twisted in disgust. 

He didn't see a high-profile businessman; he saw a pathetic, obsessed insect. 

He grabbed Dev by the collar and slammed him back against the wall, right next to the chalk drawing.

"Bohot natak ho gaya tera, Singhania!" Deshmukh growled, his voice vibrating with hatred.

"Mera khoon nikalega haan..bol sale!!"

"Aur kya saaf karu haan ye"he said pointing at the drawing.

"Pehle us masoom aurat ko maar diya aur ab yahan baith ke natak kar raha hai? Sharam nahi aati tujhe?" 

Deshmukh spat on the floor near Dev's feet.

"Maar dala tune use! You killed her! Aur ab yahan acting kar raha hai jaise bohot bada aashiq ho?"

Dev's eyes snapped wide. The word 'killed' hit him like a physical blow.

 He started shaking his head violently, his breathing becoming shallow and fast.

"Nahi... nahi nahi nahi!" Dev shrieked, his voice cracking.

"Maine nahi maara! Gulaab mar nahi sakti! Woh meri hai... meri saansein uske paas hain! Jhoot bol raha hai tu! You're lying!"

Deshmukh didn't care about the denial. He swung his baton, hitting Dev hard across the ribs.

The sound of the impact echoed in the small cell. Dev collapsed to his knees, gasping for air, but his eyes never left the wall.

"Listen to me, you psycho," Deshmukh hissed, leaning down so his face was inches from Dev's.

"Tu yahan se kabhi bahar nahi jayega. You will rot in this hell. Tera har din, har pal maut se bura hoga. Aur agar tune zayda shaanpati ki na..Toh main is deewar ko tere khoon se rang dunga par ise saaf nahi karunga."

Dev started clawing at his own ears, trying to block out the words. His laughter returned, but it was broken, punctuated by gasps of pain.

"Maara nahi maine use... nhii!" Dev cackled, looking up at the officer with a terrifying, toothy grin. 

"Aryan toh use pyaar hi nhi karta .jitna main use karta hu! Woh mari nhi hai....Woh zinda hai... she is alive in here!" He tapped his temple frantically with a bloodied finger. 

"Andar hai woh! Tu mujhe maar, mujhe peet, par woh mujhse door nahi jayegi!"

Deshmukh kicked him one last time, a look of pure loathing on his face.

"Pagal saala. Tu maut mangega par tujhe maut bhi nahi milegi. You deserve to see hell while you're still breathing."

He stepped out and slammed the gate shut, the metallic clit-clat sounding like a final judgment.

Dev crawled back to the wall, his body aching, his ribs screaming in pain. 

He leaned his forehead against the smeared chalk, his blood mixing with the dust.

"Dekha Gulaab?" he whispered, a hauntingly sweet smile returning to his face.

"Ye log humein alag karna chahte hain. Sab jhoot bol rahe hain. Tum mar nahi sakti... tum mar gayi toh Dev kaise jeeyega? Hum saath rahenge... hamesha."

He started humming again, a distorted, off-key version of a love song, while the rest of the prison remained in a terrified silence.

As Officer Deshmukh walked away from the cell, he could still hear Dev's distorted humming echoing against the stone walls. 

He stopped at the end of the corridor, pulled out his phone, and spat on the floor in disgust before dialing a familiar number.

"Hello, Jai Hind, Sir," Deshmukh said, his voice dropping into a respectful tone.

"Aaj ye saala bilkul pagla gaya tha... par aap fikar mat kijiye, sahi treatment de diya hai maine."

On the other end of the line, the voice was cold and unwavering.

"Badiya, Deshmukh. Aur yaad rahe, use maarna nahi hai. Use maut ke liye tadpana hai."

"Ji, Sir," Deshmukh replied firmly before the call disconnected.

Meanwhile, back at the Taneja Mansion...

Aryan was heading upstairs to change into his suit for the school run.

 The laughter of Advika and Anjali was still ringing in his ears from the dining room, 

but the vibration of his phone in his pocket pulled him back to a darker reality.

He pulled the device out and glanced at the caller ID. His eyes darkened instantly. 

He took a quick look around the hallway to ensure Anjali wasn't nearby—he didn't want a single shadow of the past to touch her today. 

He stepped into a small, quiet corner near the balcony and swiped to answer.

"Tell me," Aryan said, his voice low and dangerous, a complete contrast to the soft husband who was just joking about breakfast a few minutes ago.

As he listened to Deshmukh's report from the jail, Aryan's grip on the phone tightened until his knuckles turned white.

Knowing that Dev was losing his mind, screaming for 'Gulaab' and rotting in a cell, brought a grim sense of justice to Aryan's heart.

 He didn't feel pity. He felt a cold, calculated satisfaction.

"Good," Aryan whispered into the phone.

Soon he ended the call and took a deep breath, smoothing out his expression.

 In a matter of seconds, the ruthless businessman disappeared, and the loving husband returned. 

He tucked the phone away and headed toward the bedroom.

Aryan walked into the bedroom, but he stopped dead in his tracks at the doorway. 

The sight before him was something he had only seen in his most desperate dreams for four years.

Anjali was sitting on the edge of the bed, focused and determined, while Advika stood between her knees.

 Anjali was busy buttoning up the tiny white school shirt, her tongue poking out slightly in concentration, just like it always did when she was doing something important.

"Mumma, tight ho raha hai!" Advika complained, squirming around.

"Arey, seedhe khade raho na Adu, warna tie tedi ho jayegi," Anjali murmured, her hands moving with a natural, motherly grace.

 She tucked the shirt in and smoothed out the pleats of the small skirt, finally looking satisfied with her work.

Aryan just stood there, leaning against the frame, his heart feeling too full for his chest. 

This was it. The domestic peace he had traded his soul for.

Suddenly, Anjali looked up and caught him staring. 

Her soft expression immediately flipped into a playful scowl when she realized he was still in his casual shirt.

"Oh hello, Mister!" she screamed, pointing a finger at him. 

"Taiyaar hi nahi hue tum abhi tak? 8:15 ho rahe hain! Hum late ho jayenge!"

Aryan snapped out of his trance and gave her a sheepish grin. 

"Woh... main bas dekh raha tha. Tum dono kitni achi lag rahi ho."

"Tareefein baad mein karna, pehle shirt badlo!" Anjali huffed, getting up and pushing him toward the walk-in closet.

 "Advika ko shoes pehnane hain, iska bag check karna hai... aur tum yahan statue bankar khade ho?"

Advika giggled, hopping on one foot. 

"Dadda, Jaldi karo!"

"Okay, okay! devi ji gussa nhi, main ja raha hoon!" Aryan laughed, holding up his hands in surrender.

Five minutes later, he emerged looking sharp in his suit, but he was struggling with his cufflinks.

Anjali, who was now putting Advika's water bottle into her backpack, sighed and walked over to him.

"Tumhare bina mera kya hoga?" she whispered, her voice softening as she took his wrists in her hands and expertly snapped the links into place.

Aryan looked down at her, the playful banter fading into a moment of pure, quiet intimacy. 

He leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers.

"Mere bina tumhara toh pata nahi, par tumhare bina mera kuch nahi hota, jaan. I'm just glad I don't have to do this alone anymore."

Anjali smiled, leaning into him for a brief second before pulling away with a smirk.

"Emotional hone ka time nahi hai. Adu, shoes pehen liye?"

"Yes Mumma! Let's go!" Advika shouted from the door, swinging her bag.

Hand in hand, the three of them walked down the stairs.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, a tiny whirlwind came charging toward them. 

Veer was already standing by the front door, dressed in his little playschool overalls, looking like a miniature ball of energy.

"YAAA! Bari-Mumma chhodengi! Hehe!" Veer cheered, bouncing on his heels. 

He completely ignored Aryan and Aahan, lunging forward to grab Anjali's hand with his sticky, chocolate-stained fingers.

He looked up at her, his eyes wide with genuine awe.

"Aap bahut sundar lag rahe ho, Bari-Mumma," he said in his sweet, clear voice. 

"You look like a real princess!"

Anjali's heart melted instantly. She knelt down, ignoring the fact that her expensive saree was touching the floor, and pinched his chubby cheeks.

"Aur mera Veeru toh bilkul prince lag raha hai! Chalo, aaj Bari-Mumma dono bacho ko school chhodne jayegi."

"Humein bhi?" Aahan asked, leaning against the railing with a smirk. 

"Ya hum pedestrian ban kar peeche peeche chalein?"

"Tum aur Arushi Veer ko lene jaoge, par drop main aur Aryan karenge," Anjali decided, giving her devar a playful wink.

"Chalo baccha party, move out!" Aryan announced, picking up the car keys.

The drive was pure chaos. Anjali sat in the back between the two kids to keep the peace. Veer kept trying to show Anjali his 'superpower' 

(which was just him squeezing his eyes shut really tight), while Advika was busy explaining the 'rules' of school to her Mumma so she wouldn't be scared.

"Mumma, agar koi aunty aapse pooche ki aap kahan thi, toh bol dena ki aap magic world mein gaye the," Advika whispered seriously.

"Nahi toh woh bohot saare questions puchenge."

"Theek hai, boss," Anjali laughed, kissing her daughter's temple.

They reached Veer's playschool first. It was a colorful building with a big garden.

As the car stopped, Veer didn't want to let go of Anjali's hand.

"Bari-Mumma, aap bye-bye wali kissi nahi doge?" he pouted, standing on the pavement.

Anjali leaned out of the car, giving him a big hug and a kiss on the forehead.

"Have a great day, my champion! Be brave, okay?"

"Main brave hoon! Main sabko bataunga meri Bari-Mumma Pari hai!" Veer shouted, waving his tiny hand as the teacher led him inside.

As they drove away toward Advika's school, Aryan looked at Anjali through the rearview mirror, his eyes soft.

Anjali settled back into her seat, holding Advika close.