Prologue
They said Viren Jaisingh had everything a man could dream of. A sprawling empire built on his vision. Respect that stretched across boardrooms. Children who looked up to him like their world.
But the truth? He had built his empire on fractured foundations.
Two families. Two sets of children. And two women—one who loved him till her last breath, and another who loved him until she discovered the truth.
One glided with the light of his name, his empire,his wife and his three children-Arnav, Abhimaan and little Anvi
The other...hidden,fragile,forbidden. A woman who had loved him without even knowing his truth and a daughter -Avyuktha-whose first word has been silence.
The city lights shimmered like distant stars, indifferent to the lives buried beneath their glow. Viren Jaisingh sat alone in his study, a glass of untouched whiskey in his hand, staring at the walls lined with accolades and photographs. Business, power, wealth—he had it all. And yet, for seven years, he had failed at the one thing that truly mattered: family.
"Papa... why didn't you come?" Arnav's young voice echoed in his mind. Memories of late nights, of rocking Abhimaan when he cried, of brushing Anvi's hair before bed—Viren had been there, sometimes, but never enough. He had been half a father, half a ghost, and the children had filled the void themselves. Arnav had become a parent to his younger siblings long before he had any right to; Anvi, the light in the shadows, guiding Abhimaan with a strength she had inherited from a father who was too busy to notice.
And then there was another world he had never seen.
In Sitara, a small home smelled of smoke and cold walls. A girl, fragile as porcelain but with the steel of a lifetime's pain in her spine, held a six-year-old boy close. "Shhh... Aarush, meri jaan... sab theek hoga," she whispered. Her mother had died giving birth to him, leaving Avyuktha to become both sister and mother. Every meal she shared with him, every bruise she endured for his safety, every sleepless night—her life was nothing but a series of sacrifices for him. And yet, despite the fear, despite the hunger, despite the darkness that surrounded them, she had survived.
And then the call came.
"Please... help them... or they won't survive. You have to act, now."
Two families. Two tragedies. One man.
Seven years ago...
A single newspaper headline had destroyed it all.
"Industrialist Virend Jaisingh spotted at family gala with wife and children."
The paper lay crumpled in Meera's trembling hand—his second wife, the woman who never knew she was second.
Her voice shook when she confronted him that night.
"You had... a wife? Children? All this time, Viren? And I... I was just—" her breath broke, "a shadow?"
"Meera, please, listen—"
But she had turned her face away, betrayal burning through her veins. "Don't. Don't you dare call me your wife again. From this moment... you are dead to me. And so are my children to you."
The doors closed that night. And Viren never saw Avyuktha again.
What he didn't know... was that Meera was carrying his second child.
Avyuktha learned too soon that the world was cruel. With every lie, every slap, every locked room, she built walls so high that no light entered. Her voice became silence. Her eyes, unreadable.
And then came Aarush—the little brother she cradled in her arms, the child her father never even knew existed.
At just six, she became mother, father, sister, protector—her whole world wrapped around a boy who never knew what it meant to have parents.
Aarush clung to her like breath to lungs. And Avyuktha carried him like a soldier would his final vow.
Meanwhile, in the Jaisingh mansion, it was Arnav who grew up faster than he should have. With Virend half-absent, half-present, chasing his empire more than fatherhood, it was Arnav who became both brother and father to Abhimaan and Anvi.
Every scolding, every guidance, every hand that wiped their tears—was his.
To Anvi and Abhimaan, Arnav wasn't just their brother. He was their protector, their anchor, the man they trusted even more than their father. And Arnav carried that burden like second skin, never once faltering.
Viren...only in his old age did he realize the irony—he had been a full-time businessman, and only a part-time father.
Then came the call.
"Mr. Jaisingh," the voice was sharp,"Please... if you care at all, come. They are in danger, and no one else can help."
Virend froze. "Children? Avyuktha is just one only child..."
The voice cut him off. "Not one.... Two.....A girl and a boy. Did you even know?"
The receiver slipped from his fingers. For the first time in years, the great Viren Jaisingh felt fear—not for his empire, not for his name, but for the two souls he never even knew he had abandoned.
When he finally broke the truth to his first family, silence filled the Jaisingh mansion.
"You mean to say..." Arnav's voice was cold, steel beneath it. "...you betrayed Ma? Us? All these years?"
Anvi's hands trembled as she whispered, "So we were never enough for you, Papa?"
And Abhimaan, fists clenched, said nothing—but the disappointment in his eyes cut deeper than words ever could.
They stopped speaking to him. But blood, no matter how poisoned, runs deep. And when Virend brought the children home, resentment was carved into every corner.
The corridors of the Jaisingh mansion became a battlefield.
When the day came, Avyuktha entered the Jaisingh mansion, Aarush's tiny hand locked in hers like a lifeline. She stood stiff, her eyes colder than iron gates. She did not bow, did not smile. She only clutched the boy tighter, as though the glittering palace itself would snatch him away.
Aarush, wide-eyed, looked around in wonder, but when strangers drew close, he buried his face into Avyuktha's dress.
"Don't leave me, jiji," he whispered.
Avyuktha bent low, her lips brushing his hair.
"Never....Even if the world burns."
And in that moment, the grand halls of the Jaisingh mansion seemed less like a home, and more like a battlefield. On one side—three children wounded by betrayal. On the other—two children scarred by abandonment.
And in the middle...
Viren Jaisingh, the man who had built an empire of stone, yet lost the trust of flesh and blood.
The storm had arrived. And this time, it would not pass quietly.
That night, as the mansion's lights dimmed, Arnav whispered to himself, staring at the ceiling:
"Two more siblings... and a lifetime of lies. What are we supposed to do now, Ma?"
And in the room across the hall, Avyuktha curled around Aarush protectively, her eyes wide open in the dark, whispering to herself, "As long as I breathe, nothing will touch him."
The Jaisingh house had never been noisier.
And yet... never had silence screamed louder.
_________________________________________________________________________
Viren exhaled, a brittle breath of guilt and determination.
"I will fix this... I will not fail them again."
It was the first promise he had made in years, and for the first time, it felt like it mattered more than any deal, any profit, any empire.
Outside, the city continued its indifferent hum. Inside, a fragile light began to pierce the darkness—a promise of siblings finding each other, of love surviving neglect, of a father finally learning the meaning of presence.
Aarush clutched Avyuktha's hand, trusting her entirely. Anvi and Arnav had grown together, a shield for each other against the emptiness of their father's absence. And Viren... he would spend the rest of his days trying to make amends, to knit these fractured lives together before it was too late.
Because sometimes, even in the darkest corners, family can still be reclaimed.
