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Claire gets up to leave, pausing to ask, “Can I get you something? Coffee, tea, maybe some food?”

I shake my head, unable to tear my eyes away from Veer’s sleeping form. I barely register Claire’s departure, lost in the wonder of this tiny being in my arms. My attention is zeroed in on Veer—his soft skin, and the way his small hand twitches against my chest as he dozes off. I tenderly stroke his cheek, brushing my thumb over the curve of his tiny face. He looks like me—too much, really. The same hair, the same sharp nose, and the same tiny furrow that forms between his brows as he dreams. He’s the perfect miniature of me.My son.It’s like I’ve forgotten the world outside. For the first time in what feels like forever, I find a sense of peace enveloping me.

As I stroke his hair, so fine and soft beneath my calloused fingers, I’m struck by how small he is. This tiny life, so dependent and trusting, has turned my entire world upside down. I’ve faced countless enemies and navigated treacherous waters in the political world. But nothing—nothing—has ever made me feel as vulnerable or as powerful as I do right now.

I don’t need to learn how to be his father; it’s coming to me as naturally as breathing. How could Simran have denied me the right to hold him, to protect him, to watch him grow all this time? Veer lets out a soft sigh, his small body sinking deeper into my arms. He’s mine, and no one—not Simran, not anyone—will keep him away from me ever again. I’ll make sure of that.

I press a gentle kiss to his forehead, inhaling the sweet scent of baby powder and a warmth that’s uniquely his.

“I’m here now,” I whisper, a vow meant for his ears alone. “I’ll always be here for you.”

From the corner of my eye, I notice a flicker of movement. Leila cautiously emerges from her hiding spot and slinks onto the couch to settle beside us. As she begins to groom herself meticulously, I can’t help but feel a sense of acceptance. It’s as if she’s decided I’m not a threat after all. With a soft purr, she prepares to curl and relax alongside Veer and me.

As Veer sleeps peacefully in my arms, the tension of the past few days begins to fade away. My eyelids grow heavy, and the lack of sleep from the previous night finally catches up with me. I fight to stay awake, not wanting to miss a single second with my son. But there’s a sense of peace in this moment, a feeling of rightness that I haven’t experienced in ages. With Veer resting against me, for the first time in a long while, I finally feel grounded.

I adjust my position slightly, making sure he’s secure against my chest. His tiny hand instinctively grips my shirt tighter, as if sensing my movement even in sleep. A smile tugs at my lips—my first genuine smile in days.

As I drift off, my last conscious thought is one of gratitude. For this moment, for this precious child, and for the chance to be the father he deserves.

The world can wait. Right now, it’s just me and my son.

**************

I’m roused from the depths of slumber by a gentle patting on my chest and a feeling of wetness on my neck. As I open my eyes, I’m greeted by the most beautiful sight I’ve ever beheld—Veer, my son, snuggled against me, his tiny hands exploring my face with unbridled curiosity. His drool glistens on my neck, a badge of honor I wear with immense pride.

For a moment, I’m disoriented. How long have I been asleep? The soft light filtering through the windows suggests it hasn’t been more than an hour, yet in that brief span, I feel more rested than I have in years.

Veer’s eyes light up the moment he sees I’m awake, as if he’s been waiting for me to wake up and join him. His chubby fingers reach for my beard and tug it with surprising strength, giggling at the sensation. I can’t help but smile—something that doesn’t come naturally to me, but with Veer, it feels effortless.

As I sit up, cradling Veer securely against my chest, Claire emerges from the kitchen. Her face splits into a wide grin, as if she’s witnessing something truly magical.

“Well, look at you two,” she says, her voice warm with affection. “You’ve been out for almost an hour. I’ve never seen Veer nap at this time of day before.”

I raise an eyebrow at Claire’s words, surprised by this new piece of information about my son. Veer continues to tug at my beard, babbling in his baby language, as if he’s got an interesting story to tell.

Claire steps closer, her arms outstretched. “It’s time for his meal,” she explains. “I can take him now.”

But as she reaches for Veer, something unexpected happens. My son tightens his grip on my beard, burrows his face into my chest, and lets out a string of babbled protests. He shakes his head emphatically, making it clear in his own wordless way that he has no intention of leaving my arms.

A warm sensation blooms in my chest, spreading through my entire body. It’s a feeling I can’t quite name—pride, joy, love—all woven together into something overwhelming and beautiful. I smile again, cradling him closer. This little boy, my son, has no idea the kind of power he holds over me.

“He’ll stay with me,” I tell Claire, unable to hide the satisfaction in my voice. “Let me know when his meal is ready. We’ll be back.”

With that, I turn and head toward the door, Veer still in my arms, content and curious about the world around him. I step out of Simran’s apartment and make my way across the hall—to the apartment I’ve rented—my temporary command centre where my men are relentlessly tracking down the masked man who has been threatening Simran.

As I push open the door, the room falls into silence. My men, hunched over their systems and monitoring every possible angle, look up from their work, their eyes drawn to Veer. It’s probably the first time they’ve seen me like this—holding a child with such affection, carrying him as if he’s the most precious thing in the world.

But it’s Veer who truly commands their attention. Unfazed by the eyes on him, he looks fearlessly at each of them. There’s no sign of discomfort or hesitation. His wide eyes take in the room, absorbing every detail, and his little body shifts in my arms as if he’s ready to tackle whatever challenge comes his way. It’s a trait he’s inherited from me. I can see it already—the strength, the courage—it’s all there in him.

In that moment, looking at my son’s fearless expression, I make a decision. These men have been loyal to me and have stood by my side through countless dangerous situations. They deserve to know the truth.

I take a deep breath and adjust Veer in my arms, holding him in such a way that everyone in the room can see him clearly. I address them with pride. “This is Veer, guys. Veer Vishnu Walia. My son.”

There’s a beat of silence before the room erupts into applause. My men, hardened by years of service, smile and clap, welcoming the little boy like one of their own. Veer’s face lights up, and he bounces excitedly in my arms, loving the attention, his tiny hands clapping along with them.

As the applause dies down, one of my men steps forward.

“He looks just like you,” he remarks.