Heeriye

Thirty.

Sidharth

The Shukla inner circle. It's no joke, I'll tell you that much.

The last time an all-hands meeting was called, it was to establish succession and determine who would succeed mafia. This is the first time I've ever called such a council myself. All six men sitting around the dining table of my Mumbai penthouse know it's important. Most of them also know to hide their curiosity a little better than my uncle does. Vanraj's never met a moment of suspense that he's liked yet.

"Don't keep us waiting any longer, nephew," he calls out. "Why are we all here?"

I keep my back on the table while I finish the shot of whiskey I just poured myself. Then I walk to the head of the table. "Thank you for being here tonight on such short notice."

Vanraj's eyes stay fixed on me with eagle-eyed precision. He's barely blinking. "No one here would ever dream of turning down an invitation from us," he murmurs.

I nod. "I'm sure you've all heard the rumors."

"Which ones?" he asks with a chuckle. "There have been so many."

"The ones relating to my assistant."

Dad's head snaps from the view out the window to me. The only change in his expression is a slight arch in his eyebrow, but I know my father well enough to interpret that as keen interest. The rest of my seniorvorslean in. Vanraj is the only one who sinks back in his chair, a smug smile spreading across his face.

"The contract is real," he proclaims. He slams a fist on the table. "I fucking knew it!"

I narrow my eyes. "This so-called 'contract' is merely a rumor," I say dismissively. "I'm here to talk about Shehnaaz Gill and her children."

"What about them?" Vanraj asks impatiently.

"They are in my home now and under my protection. They will be from now onwards."

I'm aware that my revelation is not very clear. I haven't explained what Shehnaaz is to me or why she happens to be in my home and under my protection. That will come later. First, I have to figure out a way to explain it to myself.

"Is she your woman or not, nephew?" Vanraj asks bluntly.

The beast inside me roars to life. Mine. If there was ever a question, that answers it right away. I'm not about to deny it now.

"Yes," I growl, "she is. And as such, those three children are mine as well."

They all look shocked. Manoj has paled, Akshay's nonexistent eyebrows are raised to the roof, and Neeraj's gaze keeps darting from face to face. Even Vanraj looks taken aback.

Dad is the only one who's smiling. He raises his glass of gin. "Well, then congratulations are in order."

That seems to snap everyone else out of their stupor. They raise their glasses, too, hesitantly. I understand the shock, though—I've always been very vocal about remaining unattached. This change must seem abrupt from their perspective.

From mine, though, it only seems inevitable.

Vanraj's dark eyes twinkle with mischief when they land on me. "Can we expect a wedding anytime soon, Sidharth?"

I nearly choke on my whiskey, even as images of Shehnaaz in a red Lehenga, walking down the aisle toward me, invade my head and refuse to be dismissed. "That's premature. The only reason I bring it up is because it is relevant for our defenses against Aarush."

My father nods. "You have my full support, son. As do your woman and the children."

It's been years since I heard my father sound so strong. I'm not even sure if "strong" is the right word. Just more certain than he has been since we lost the rest of our family. Whatever you'd call it, it seems to act as a signal to the rest of my men.

"Of course, your family can count on my protection, too," Manoj chimes in.

Akshay raises his glass a little higher. "And mine."

"And mine," Neeraj adds.

I give them all an appreciative nod. "I appreciate you all."

Kanan stands up and meets my gaze over the heads of the sitting men. "Guess it's time to celebrate then. Let's bust out the cigars."

Once there's a comfortable smoke haze floating over us, Dad turns to me. "You have made me proud today." I raise my eyebrows. "Claiming a woman has made you proud?"

He shakes his head. "Taking on the responsibility of a family is what has made me proud. You are never so focused as when you have something to protect. Trust me, son: there is no greater reward, no greater blessing than creating a family."

"In Sidharth's case, his family has come ready-made," Vanraj butts in with a smile, helping himself to his second cigar. "Tell me, nephew: will you name the bastard boy your heir or do you actually plan on making one yourself?"

His tone rankles. It's poisonous, the way he talks about them. Bastard boy. I don't like that one fucking bit. Nor do I like the subtle irritation dancing beneath his words, the suggestion that his birthright is being snatched away from him once again.

But I can understand it, even if I despise it. I'll forgive his resentment—well, not forgive, but I'll turn a blind eye to it. It doesn't matter in the end. Vanraj might not like my choices, but he will not oppose me. He wouldn't dare. Family is everything. It is the one absolute rule that he has always followed no matter the circumstances.

"That is premature as well," I say icily.

"There's no rush," Dad agrees. "After all, Shehnaaz and Sidharth have time to make plenty of babies."

Like the thought of Shehnaaz in a gown, images of her and me with a few children of our own pops into my head far too quickly. It makes me feel... infinite. Damn near invincible. This is the first time I've understood what Dad and Vanraj meant when they used to talk about legacy.

Shehnaaz as my wife. The children we already have gathered around us. More of them yet to come bundle up in her arms, in mine.

The feeling that stirs up... I don't know how to name it or what to do with it.

But God knows it's doing something to me.

Perhaps that's why I decide to drop the bomb on them now. "The first one is already on the way."

Vanraj's head snaps towards me. Dad's mouth pops open. "The woman is pregnant?" my uncle asks, stunned.

I nod, but I'm focused more on my father. I thought he was already as upbeat as I've seen him in years. This, though... I've never seen him look like this. It's unsettling, mostly because it reminds me of a time when he smiled often. Those smiles were usually reserved for my mother.

"An heir..." Vanraj breathes. He still looks shell-shocked. "Are you sure?"

"She's just completed her first trimester."

"This is... This is... My God."

"Have I turned you speechless, uncle? I didn't think it was possible."

He clears his throat, grabs his glass, and stands up. "A toast," he says gruffly. "To the future heir of the Family."

Everyone cheers to my unborn child. There's this strange, burgeoning feeling in my chest that I can't quite name. Satisfaction? Joy? Pride?

When Vanraj settles back into his seat, I address the whole table. "For now, I want Shehnaaz's pregnancy kept under wraps. It's a dangerous time for us and I need to make sure she and the children are removed from it all."

A murmur of agreement rises from the table. I sit back, feeling more confident than I have in a while.

I have a plan.

But most importantly, I have a family.

Now, the one thing I have left to do is to figure out a way to keep it.