(Ayesha’s POV)

The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air. The cold paper sheet crinkled beneath her as she lay on the examination table, her heart racing faster than she wanted to admit.

Calm down, Ayesha. Everything will be fine.

But doubt gnawed at her. After everything — the stress, the attack, the fear — what if something was wrong with the baby?

Her fingers instinctively moved to her belly, cradling the small curve that had started to form. She had been so careful to hide it. Yet now, with Rudra standing in the corner of the room — stiff, silent, and brooding — her fear doubled.

The door opened, and the doctor entered with a warm smile.

“How are we feeling today?” Dr. Mehta asked softly.

Ayesha gave a weak smile. “Nervous.”

“She’s stronger than she thinks,” Rudra said from behind her. His voice was low, but there was something new in it — softer, almost reassuring.

Ayesha’s head turned slightly, her gaze meeting his. He stood with his arms crossed, still in his dark suit, but the usual coldness in his eyes had dimmed.

“Let’s see how your little one’s doing,” Dr. Mehta said, pulling the machine closer.

Ayesha felt Rudra’s presence move beside her, closer than she expected. When his hand brushed hers, she jumped slightly.

“You’re cold,” he muttered, taking her fingers in his warm grasp.

“I’m fine,” she whispered, though her voice wavered.

The gel hit her skin — cold and unexpected. Ayesha bit her lip, turning her head away from the screen.

“What if…” Her voice broke. “What if something’s wrong?”

Rudra’s hand squeezed hers. “Nothing’s going to happen.”

“Rudra…”

“I won’t let it,” he said firmly.

Ayesha closed her eyes as the probe moved across her stomach.

Please… let the baby be okay.

Then came the sound — faint but steady.

Lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…

Ayesha’s eyes shot open, and she turned toward the screen.

“That’s…” Her voice trembled.

“Your baby’s heartbeat,” Dr. Mehta confirmed with a smile.

Ayesha’s hand flew to her mouth, tears threatening to spill. Relief washed over her so suddenly that she couldn’t breathe.

“Strong heartbeat,” the doctor added. “Everything looks good.”

Ayesha let out a shaky laugh, blinking back tears. “Thank God…”

Beside her, Rudra didn’t say a word. She turned her head — and froze.

His gaze was locked on the screen. His expression — one she had never seen before — was raw, almost vulnerable. His fingers tightened slightly around hers, but his focus never left the image of their child.

“You’re… you’re crying,” Ayesha whispered.

Rudra blinked quickly, releasing her hand and stepping back as if he’d been burned. “It’s just…dust.” His voice was rough, distant.

But Ayesha saw the truth — the faint sheen in his eyes, the flicker of something breaking inside him.

For a man who had built his entire life on strength and power, the sight of that tiny heartbeat had shaken him in a way nothing else had.

---

(Rudra’s POV)

He stood outside the hospital room, fingers curled tightly around his phone.

“Yeah… I’ll be late,” Rudra muttered to his second-in-command. “Just handle things until I get back.”

He ended the call and stared at the floor.

The sound of that heartbeat still echoed in his head. It was louder than any gunshot, more powerful than any threat.

I almost lost them.

His eyes drifted back to the room where Ayesha lay resting. She had fallen asleep moments after the ultrasound, exhaustion pulling her under.

He’d stood there watching her for too long — watching the way her hand instinctively rested on her belly, like she was guarding their child from the world.

His child.

The truth hit him harder than he expected. This wasn’t just about revenge anymore. It wasn’t about making Ayesha pay for her lies.

This is my family.

For the first time in years, Rudra felt something stir in his chest — something dangerous and foreign. Not rage. Not vengeance.

It was love.

And it terrified him.

Because love makes you weak… and weakness gets you killed.

But as he stood there, staring at the woman he once thought he hated, Rudra realized one thing.

He would kill for her. He would die for her.

And no one — no enemy, no threat — would ever touch what was his again.

---

End of Chapter 29