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When we finally pull apart, I am still trying to process it all. This unexpected visit, the breach of our usual protocols, the emotional reunion—something feels off. But right now, those thoughts can wait. The comfort of having Dad here is all that matters.

“You should have told me.” I look at him, my protective instincts still at the fore. “Even if Ayaan has looked after everything, I am not happy becauseIam not in control of your security this time.” My voice is tight with tension. “You know your life is under constant threat because of the enemies you’ve made throughout your political journey. An unplanned visit like this, where I’m not planning your security measures, could leave a loophole for someone to exploit.”

“I know that. But stop worrying about me so much. I am old now... and so are my enemies.” Dad waves off my concerns.

I clench my jaw, hating his nonchalant ‘I-don’t-care-anymore’ attitude.

“Stop dismissing this, Dad! I don’t care how old they are—danger doesn’t age out, and neither does my duty to protect you.”

There’s a shift in his body language, and he becomes serious.

“Fine. Just so you feel better, I am flying back tonight as per the protocols of not staying at one place for more than a few hours during such unplanned visits. Ayaan has taken care of all that too. Are you happy now?”

“You shouldn’t have come here, Dad,” I mutter, still not happy.

His expression softens as he steps closer, grabbing my face with his firm but gentle hands.

“How could I not come here, Vishnu? After our last phone conversation, I knew something was wrong with my son. It was as if you wanted to tell me something but were unable to. I could sense it from miles away that something wasn’t right with you.”

His words pierce through my defences.

“I am your father,” he continues. “I may have been late in openly acknowledging our relationship before the world, but I have always read your pain. Even though you never spoke a word of it, I could read it in your eyes, feel it in my heart.”

His words hit me like a sledgehammer, bringing tears to my eyes. In that moment, I recall the pain my father sensed—the turmoil surrounding Simran, Veer, and our complicated relationship.

Being a father myself now, I can fully understand the depth of the connection he’s talking about. It’s an instinct. A bond that would make any father would react exactly as he has—even if it means flying across oceans to come straight to his son.

I pull him into a hug, holding on tightly. For years, I’ve craved his acknowledgment, his acceptance. And now, with our bond stronger than ever, his concern feels both overwhelming and reassuring. He pulls back and meets my tear-filled eyes.

“What is it that you are still not telling me, Vishnu?” His own eyes glisten with unshed tears. “Meher said she didn’t know much except that you are here to safeguard her and Devika’s friend, Simran, from some threat,” he says. “But I know my son. I could feel there’s more. I am here to know what’s troubling, son. You’ve always been tough, someone who rarely lets anything affect him, except when it comes to the Walia family.”

“Even this time, what’s affecting your son is related to the Walias, Dad,” I take a deep breath, interrupting him before he can speak further.

“Related to Walias?” The confusion on Dad’s face is palpable. But I’ve made up my mind. I know exactly what I need to do. There’s no turning back now. The truth has to come out. Dad deserves to know.

“What is it that’s related to the Walias andI amnot aware of it?” he asks.

My hands tremble slightly as I clutch his arm, knowing this moment will change everything. The secret I’ve carried, the burden that has been eating away at my soul for days, is about to be revealed.

“What is it, Vishnu?” Dad looks at me, his eyes searching mine for answers.

As the head of the Walia family, my father has always prided himself on knowing everything and controlling every aspect of our lives. But today, I will shatter that illusion.

I grab his arm, and without a word, I lead him across the lobby.

“Where are you taking me?” he asks, confused, as he follows my determined strides.

I don’t answer. We directly stop in front of Simran’s apartment. I can feel Dad’s questioning gaze, but I remain silent. As I push open the door, Claire emerges from the living room, her eyes widening with instant understanding. She recognises the gravity of this moment and retreats to the kitchen, leaving us to our confrontation.

“Whose house is this?” he demands again, his tone sharper this time.

I’m afraid of his reaction once the truth is out, but it’s necessary—no more hiding. I stop in front of the nursery door, knowing very well my son is sleeping inside. My hand hesitates on the doorknob for a fraction of a second, but with a deep breath, I push the uncertainty aside and open the door.

The room is quiet, the soft glow of the evening light illuminating the baby cot, where Veer is sleeping peacefully.

Dad steps into the room, his eyes narrowing slightly as he takes in the sight of the sleeping child. He turns to me, this time with a mix of curiosity and something deeper—something unspoken and vulnerable, as if seeking answers.

“That’s Veer,” I say, my voice breaking slightly. “Veer Vishnu Walia. Your grandson.”