She immediately looked away, hurriedly locking her phone and turning off the screen before hiding it from sight. Taking a quiet breath to steady herself, she forced a faint expression onto her face and said, "Yeah, I am fine. What will happen to me?"

He studied her for a brief moment before giving a small nod. "Come on, then. Let's have dinner."

With that, he turned and walked away.

She remained where she was for a second, drawing in a slow, deep breath as though gathering herself before finally rising to her feet. Quietly, she made her way toward the dining area.

Ritvik was already seated on a chair beside his father, his small frame barely reaching the edge of the table. Siddharth sat beside him, patiently serving rice onto his plate while reminding him to finish all of his vegetables, his voice carrying the familiar firmness of someone who had repeated the same instruction countless times before.

Without saying a word, Aarohi walked over and settled into the chair opposite them. She quietly began eating, the silence around the table stretching comfortably for a few moments, broken only by the soft clink of cutlery against plates.

After a short while, she lifted her gaze and asked hesitantly, "Where is that old lady? I mean, you—"

Before she could finish, Siddharth gently interrupted her.

"She had a headache," he said softly. "So she had dinner early and went to sleep."

Aarohi gave a small nod in understanding before lowering her eyes back to her plate and continuing to eat in silence.

A few moments later, a tiny, muffled voice broke the quiet.

"Mbhum... wbhil you—"

The words came out almost completely unintelligible.

Ritvik's cheeks were puffed out with rice as he struggled to chew and speak at the same time, doing his very best to make himself understood despite his mouth being completely full.

"Ritvik," Siddharth interrupted gently, though with a hint of sternness, "first finish what's in your mouth. Then speak."

Ritvik immediately nodded obediently.

He quickly chewed the remaining rice, swallowed properly, and only then looked toward Aarohi.

"Mumma," he said softly, "there is an event in my school for mothers. Will you come this year? You didn't come last year... everyone teased me."

Although his words were spoken with quiet simplicity, they carried a weight far greater than they appeared to. As the memory of the previous year's event resurfaced in his mind, his eyes slowly filled with unmistakable emotion.

 The excitement of his very first school function had been overshadowed by a single absence—his mother had not been there. Even now, the hurt lingered silently behind his small, hopeful gaze as he waited for her answer.

Aarohi froze.

Her gaze remained fixed on Ritvik as she watched his little face slowly turn red. His lips quivered ever so slightly while he desperately tried to keep himself from crying. His tiny eyes shimmered, the tears gathering at their corners, balancing precariously on the edge of falling. 

He blinked repeatedly, almost as though he believed that if he blinked enough, the tears would disappear on their own. The heartbreaking effort in his expression made the dining room fall into an even deeper silence.

Without wasting another second, Siddharth gently lifted Ritvik from his chair and settled him securely onto his lap. One arm instinctively wrapped around the little boy while his other hand carefully brushed away the tears that had begun to spill despite Ritvik's best efforts to hold them back.

"Hey," Siddharth said softly, his voice calm and reassuring as he wiped his son's damp cheeks with his thumb. "You know Mumma just got leave from the hospital. We shouldn't disturb her. We should let her rest, hmm?"

His words were spoken with patience rather than disappointment, as though he wanted to comfort the child instead of refusing him outright.

Ritvik remained quiet for a moment.

His small shoulders slumped ever so slightly before he gave a slow, reluctant nod. Without saying another word, he leaned forward and rested his head against his father's chest, silently accepting the explanation even though the sadness had not completely left his eyes. Siddharth gently stroked the little boy's hair, allowing him to calm down at his own pace.

The silence lingered for only a few seconds.

Then it was broken.

"Why not?" Aarohi said quietly.

Both Siddharth and the tiny boy resting in his lap looked up at her almost at the same time.

She hesitated for the briefest moment before continuing, "I think... I can come."

For a second, neither of them reacted, almost as though they had not heard her correctly.

Then Ritvik's eyes widened.

The sadness vanished from his face so quickly that it was as if someone had lit a tiny lamp inside him. His eyes sparkled like bright little stars, overflowing with excitement, and an enormous smile spread across his face, replacing every trace of disappointment that had been there only moments ago.

"Really, Mumma?" he asked, his voice bubbling with disbelief and joy.

Seeing such pure happiness bloom across his face made Aarohi feel strangely awkward.

She herself did not know why she had agreed.

She had not thought about it.

The words had simply left her mouth before she could stop them. Somewhere inside, she had felt an unexpected urge to say yes, though she couldn't understand the reason herself.

Before she could even process what had happened, Ritvik slipped off Siddharth's lap.

His tiny feet hurried across the floor as fast as they could carry him until he reached her. Without the slightest hesitation, he wrapped both his little arms tightly around her legs, hugging them with all the strength his small body possessed.

"Thank you, Mumma!" he exclaimed happily. "I love you! I missed you so much, Mumma!"

Aarohi went completely rigid.

Every muscle in her body stiffened.

The sudden warmth of the child's embrace felt foreign, unfamiliar, and overwhelming. Her entire body instinctively resisted the contact. Her hands twitched involuntarily, an almost reflexive urge rising within her to pull him away from her—as if brushing off a cockroach that had unexpectedly crawled onto her skin.

For a fleeting second, the impulse was so strong that it startled even her.

Yet somehow, she restrained herself.

Her fingers tightened ever so slightly against the edge of the chair before gradually relaxing again as she forced herself to remain perfectly still.

She simply sat there, frozen, staring down at the little boy clinging so tightly to her legs with complete trust and unconditional affection.

She had absolutely no idea what she was supposed to do.

After an awkward pause that seemed far longer than it actually was, she slowly lifted one hand.

The movement was hesitant, almost mechanical, as though her body was acting without her mind's permission.

Her palm hovered uncertainly above his head for a brief moment before finally coming to rest against his soft hair.

She gave him a single, gentle pat.

Nothing more.

Almost immediately afterward, she withdrew her hand, pulling it back as quickly as though she had touched something unfamiliar, leaving it resting stiffly in her lap while she continued sitting in silence, unsure of what she was feeling or what she was supposed to do next.

After dinner, the house gradually fell into a comfortable silence.

The day's exhaustion had finally caught up with Ritvik. Curled up on the couch with his tiny body tucked into itself, he had unknowingly drifted into a deep sleep while his father and Aarohi quietly finished their meal. His small chest rose and fell in a slow, peaceful rhythm, completely unaware of the hushed conversation and clinking utensils around him.

Neither of the adults spoke much.

The silence between them wasn't hostile, but it wasn't comfortable either. It simply existed, stretching across the dining table as both of them finished eating without exchanging more than an occasional glance.

Once dinner was over, Siddharth stood up and walked over to the couch.

A faint, affectionate smile crossed his face as he looked down at the sleeping child.

Carefully, making sure not to wake him, he bent down and gently scooped Ritvik into his arms. The little boy instinctively snuggled closer against his father's shoulder, letting out a sleepy sigh before settling comfortably once again, still fast asleep.

Supporting the child's weight securely, Siddharth turned and began walking toward the staircase that led upstairs.

Aarohi remained standing in the dining room for a brief moment.

She wasn't entirely sure what she was supposed to do now.

After a second of hesitation, she quietly followed behind them without saying a word.

The only sounds echoing through the hallway were the soft footsteps climbing the stairs and the occasional sleepy murmur escaping from Ritvik as he shifted slightly in his father's embrace.

"Thank you."

The sudden words broke the silence.

Aarohi stopped in her tracks for a brief second before looking up at Siddharth's back in confusion.

"Huh?"

Her brows knitted together.

She genuinely couldn't understand why he was thanking her.

Siddharth continued walking at the same unhurried pace before speaking again.

"Thank you for not pushing him away like last time," he said quietly. "Even though you were uncomfortable... You still let him hug you."

There was no accusation in his voice.

Only quiet sincerity.

"And thank you for agreeing to go to his school."

Aarohi immediately looked away, feeling unexpectedly awkward under his gratitude.

She shifted her gaze toward the floor before replying in a tone that tried very hard to sound indifferent.

"It's nothing like that," she muttered. "I just hate crying... and crying kids... and kids."

The words came out colder than she intended, though beneath the practiced indifference was an unmistakable trace of nervousness.

Siddharth couldn't help but chuckle softly.

It wasn't a laugh of amusement directed at her, but rather the quiet laugh of someone who didn't quite believe the excuse he had just heard.

He knew actions often revealed far more than words.

As they reached the door of his room, Siddharth paused before stepping inside.

Still holding the sleeping Ritvik securely in his arms, he glanced over his shoulder at Aarohi.

"If you're uncomfortable sleeping with me... or with him," he said gently, "you can sleep in the guest room. Ritvik can't sleep alone."

His voice remained calm, leaving the decision entirely to her.

For a brief moment, Aarohi simply looked at him.

Then she answered, "No, I'm fine."

She paused before adding firmly, "Just make sure you both keep your distance."

Without waiting for his response, she walked past him and headed straight toward the bathroom to take a shower.

The bathroom door quietly closed behind her.

Left standing in the bedroom with the sleeping child still resting against his shoulder, Siddharth remained motionless for a moment.

A puzzled expression slowly settled across his face.

He couldn't understand it.

The change in her behavior had been subtle, yet impossible to ignore.

It wasn't dramatic.

It wasn't complete.

But it was there.

The same woman who, until recently, hadn't even been willing to stay in the same room with him without obvious discomfort had now agreed to sleep in the same bedroom.

More than that, she had allowed Ritvik to hug her without pushing him away.

She had even agreed to attend his school event.

None of it made sense to him.

He had no idea what had happened or what had changed inside her.

Yet, for reasons he couldn't explain, the distance between them no longer felt quite as impossible as it once had.

A few minutes later, the bathroom door quietly opened.

Freshly showered, Aarohi stepped out, having changed into something comfortable for the night. Her damp hair rested loosely over her shoulders, and the faint scent of soap lingered around her. On the surface, she appeared calm, almost relaxed.

Only she knew the storm raging inside her mind.

She silently reminded herself again and again that she absolutely could not fall asleep tonight.

Not even for a few minutes.

If Siddharth truly was a mafia boss, as she had convinced herself, then there was every possibility that he would leave the house in the middle of the night to deal with whatever mysterious underworld business mafia bosses were supposed to handle. 

She had watched enough movies and read enough novels to know that criminals rarely worked during the day. Night was when secrets came alive.

Tonight, she intended to find out the truth.

She would quietly keep an eye on him the entire night.

If he slipped out of the house, her suspicions would be confirmed.

If he simply slept peacefully beside his son like any ordinary man...

She immediately stopped that train of thought.

No.

She refused to believe it so easily.

Still, if she wanted to observe him properly, she would have to stay as close to him as possible throughout the night. That was the only way she would know if he left the bed.

Completely absorbed in her elaborate plan, Aarohi unconsciously began making the strangest expressions.

One moment, she was clenching her jaw as though preparing for battle.

Next, an oddly satisfied smile appeared on her lips.

A second later, a suspicious little smirk replaced it before disappearing just as quickly.

Standing nearby, Siddharth watched the entire sequence unfold with increasing confusion.

His brows slowly furrowed.

The expressions changing on her face every few seconds were so unusual that he genuinely had no idea what she was thinking.

After watching silently for another moment, he finally cleared his throat.

"Aarohi..."

She flinched.

Almost guiltily, she snapped out of her thoughts and looked toward him.

"Huh?"

Siddharth looked at her with an awkward yet slightly nervous expression before asking carefully,

"What are you thinking?"

"Nothing."

Her answer came far too quickly.

Then she paused.

For a brief second, another thought crossed her mind.

If watching him at night wasn't enough...

She could always investigate during the day as well.

Looking directly at him, she asked casually, "I was thinking... if I could come to your office tomorrow with you."

She deliberately watched his face, searching for even the slightest reaction.

Siddharth froze.

Only for a second.

"What?"

His response was so immediate that it only made her even more suspicious.

This time, she repeated herself more firmly.

"Can I come with you to your office tomorrow? I want to see the place you work at."

For the smallest fraction of a second, the color seemed to drain from Siddharth's face.

The reaction was subtle.

So subtle that someone not paying attention might have missed it completely.

But Aarohi was watching him closely.

Despite that brief change, his expression quickly returned to normal, almost as though he had forced himself to remain composed.

"But..." he began carefully, "you have your therapy session tomorrow."

Aarohi merely shrugged.

"It's okay. Take me there after the session."

Siddharth tried another approach.

"But I have back-to-back meetings tomorrow, and you won't be able to—"

"It's okay," she interrupted before he could finish. "I'll sit quietly in your office."

He opened his mouth once more.

"But—"

This time, she cut him off again.

Her voice was no longer casual.

It carried a clear suspicion mixed with growing irritation.

"Why can't you take me there, huh?" she demanded, narrowing her eyes at him. "What exactly are you trying to hide?"

She folded her arms across her chest before continuing in an accusing tone.

"Or is there no office building at all?"

She tilted her head slightly.

"Is it actually some old warehouse where you do all your mafia stuff?"

For a long moment, Siddharth simply stared at her.

Then he let out a slow, defeated sigh.

He already knew there was no point in refusing anymore.

Every excuse he made only seemed to strengthen her bizarre theories instead of convincing her otherwise.

If he continued saying no, she would probably become even more suspicious.

Finally, he gave in.

"Fine," he said with another resigned sigh. "You can come."

He paused before adding, "But promise me you won't disturb me while I'm working."

Aarohi immediately looked offended.

Her eyes widened as though he had just insulted her.

"Do I look like a five-year-old to you, huh?"

The indignant expression on her face made Siddharth fall silent, wondering whether agreeing had truly been the right decision.

Time Skip – 1:12 A.M.

The digital clock on the bedside table silently changed to 1:12 A.M.

The room was wrapped in complete darkness, illuminated only by the faint silver moonlight slipping through the curtains. Everything was quiet, the house had long fallen asleep, and even the soft ticking of the wall clock seemed unusually loud in the stillness of the night.

Siddharth slowly opened his eyes. 

For a few seconds, he remained completely still, making sure he hadn't disturbed anyone, then, with practiced care, he quietly pushed the blanket aside and sat up on the edge of the bed, every movement slow and measured, almost silent. He reached for his phone resting on the bedside table before picking up the jacket he had left on the nearby couch earlier that evening.

Before leaving, he turned around, his eyes instinctively drifting toward the bed where Ritvik was sleeping peacefully, one tiny hand peeking out from beneath the blanket, completely unaware of the world around him, while beside him, Aarohi appeared to be sleeping just as soundly.

 A faint smile touched Siddharth's lips as he walked back to the bed and gently pulled the blanket higher over Ritvik's little body before adjusting the corner covering Aarohi as well.

 Satisfied that neither of them would get cold, he quietly walked toward the bedroom door and, without making the slightest noise, slipped outside and softly closed the door behind him.

Click.

The sound had barely faded when Aarohi's eyes snapped wide open.

"I KNEW IT."

The words never left her mouth, but they echoed triumphantly inside her head as she shot upright with the speed of someone whose lifelong conspiracy theory had just been proven correct. Her expression practically screamed victory.

Ha!

She knew it. She absolutely, undeniably, one hundred percent knew it. Who in the world casually woke up at one in the morning, silently grabbed their phone and jacket, tucked everyone's blankets in like the world's sweetest husband and father, and then mysteriously disappeared into the night?

Exactly.

A mafia boss.

Movies had taught her enough. First, they lovingly covered their family with blankets, then they went outside to threaten people. Classic mafia behavior.

Without wasting another second, Aarohi grabbed her phone from the bedside table and immediately switched on the camera.

"Evidence," she whispered to herself proudly.

This time, she wasn't making the same mistake. Last time, the police hadn't believed her because she had no proof, no videos, no photographs, no dramatic slow-motion entrance with undeniable evidence. 

But tonight, tonight, she would return with a documentary. Her phone camera would capture everything, every suspicious step, every shady conversation, every secret deal, every illegal blink. Then she would march straight into the police station, slam her phone onto the officer's desk, and dramatically declare—

"I told you he was a mafia boss!"

She could already imagine the police officers apologizing.

"Ma'am, we doubted you."

"We're sorry, ma'am."

"You're the greatest detective of our generation, ma'am."

She almost smiled.

No, not almost.

She actually smiled.

Then her attention shifted toward something far more important—the baseball bat hidden under the bed, her emergency anti-mafia equipment. She bent down, quietly pulled it out from underneath the bed where she had secretly hidden it that very morning, and gripped it with both hands.

"Perfect."

Phone, check. Camera recording, check. Slippers, check. Bat, double check.

Confidence, far beyond reasonable limits, check.

Slowly slipping her feet into her slippers, she tiptoed toward the bedroom door before carefully opening it just enough to squeeze through. The hallway was dark, and somewhere downstairs she could hear the faint sound of footsteps. He hadn't gone far.

Good.

Very good.

Keeping what she believed was an excellent detective posture—which, in reality, looked more like an overcautious penguin trying not to slip—she quietly followed him. Meanwhile, her brain refused to stay focused on just following him. Instead, it began producing approximately one hundred different scenarios about how she would expose him once she caught him red-handed.

Scenario number one was that she would leap out dramatically like a superhero. She could already picture herself landing perfectly in front of him, pointing the bat toward him and shouting, "Freeze! Your criminal career ends today!" It sounded very cinematic, very heroic.

Scenario number two was that she would act like one of those impossibly cool, nonchalant savage female leads from novels. She would casually lean against a wall with her arms crossed and say, "So..." before raising one eyebrow and asking, "Done with your illegal activities?" Then she'd smirk mysteriously while he stood there completely speechless. Very classy. Very intimidating.

Scenario number three was that she would confront him directly, like one of those timid but surprisingly brave heroines.

"W-Why are you doing this?" she imagined herself asking dramatically.

"I... I trusted you!"

Actually... no. That sounded too emotional, so she immediately rejected that plan.

Scenario number four was much better. She wouldn't say anything at all. She would simply record everything silently before calling the police at the perfect moment. Then dozens of police cars would arrive with flashing lights, Siddharth would look at her in complete shock, and she... she would slowly remove her imaginary sunglasses—even though she wasn't wearing any—and walk away like the smartest detective in history.

Completely absorbed in her glorious fantasies, Aarohi continued sneaking after him, utterly convinced that before sunrise, she would expose the biggest mafia boss she had ever imagined.

__________________

Still clutching the baseball bat in one hand and her phone in the other, Aarohi quietly followed him down the dimly lit hallway, matching his pace while trying her absolute best not to make a sound. Every few steps, she'd dramatically flatten herself against the nearest wall, peeking around the corner like some top-secret undercover agent, when in reality she was just a woman in fluffy slippers sneaking around her own house at one in the morning.

A few moments later, Siddharth stopped in front of a door she was sure she had never seen before, making her eyes instantly widen.

There was another door?

Her brain immediately threw logic out of the window.

A secret door... no... a secret underground tunnel!

Her heartbeat picked up with excitement as she tightened her grip around the bat.

I knew it... I absolutely knew it. This has to be the hidden entrance to his mafia headquarters.

Well, obviously, it was hidden. What kind of mafia boss would put up a giant glowing board saying "Illegal Activities This Way"? Of course, there had to be a secret entrance.

She was already imagining a long underground tunnel leading to some giant warehouse filled with armed men when Siddharth suddenly paused before opening the door. His head turned ever so slightly as he looked around the hallway.

Aarohi's soul almost left her body.

Without thinking twice, she practically jumped behind the nearest wall, pressing herself against it so hard she was convinced she'd merge into the paint.

He knows!

He sensed my presence!

Her eyes grew even wider.

Of course he did. Mafia bosses always have insane senses.

Maybe he could hear heartbeats.

Maybe he could smell fear.

Maybe after committing enough crimes, they unlocked some secret sixth sense.

Holding her breath, she stayed completely still, refusing to even blink. After waiting what felt like an entire lifetime but was probably only five seconds, she cautiously peeked around the corner.

Nothing.

The hallway was empty.

"Good..." she whispered to herself before silently counting to five just to be extra safe.

Once she was convinced he had gone far enough, she slowly reached for the doorknob. Then, forgetting every bit of stealth she'd shown until now, she threw the door open with full confidence, barging inside while pointing the bat straight ahead.

"Hands up, you motherfucker! Now, where are your—"

The rest of the sentence died in her throat.

She froze.

The bat froze.

Even the phone in her hand kept recording while its owner completely stopped functioning.

The scene in front of her was... not even remotely close to what she'd expected.

There was no underground bunker.

No warehouse.

No masked men.

No weapons.

No shady mafia meeting.

No criminals discussing illegal deals over a table.

Instead...

There was a huge indoor swimming pool.

Built right into the basement.

And in the middle of it...

Siddharth.

Swimming.

Just... swimming.

At one-thirteen in the morning.

Aarohi stood there with the blankest expression imaginable as every single expectation she'd built over the last ten minutes drowned in the same water Siddharth had been peacefully swimming through. Her secret tunnel had turned into a swimming pool, her mafia headquarters had become a luxury basement, and the dangerous criminal she'd been chasing was apparently just doing late-night laps.

The only thing guilty in that room was her imagination.

Hearing the door burst open, Siddharth stopped swimming and looked toward the entrance, his brows knitting together in confusion.

There stood Aarohi.

Hair slightly messy.

Phone still recording.

Baseball bat pointed at absolutely nothing.

Looking like she'd just raided the wrong address.

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.

Siddharth looked at her.

Then at the bat.

Then on the phone.

Then back at her.

His brain connected the dots almost instantly.

She had followed him.

She thought he was sneaking off to do mafia business.

He had to bite the inside of his cheek because a laugh was already threatening to escape. No... he absolutely couldn't laugh. If he laughed now, she'd probably start looking for hidden dead bodies under the pool tiles.

So, somehow keeping a perfectly straight face, he rested one arm on the edge of the pool and looked at her innocently.

"Didn't like what you saw?" he asked, his eyes slowly drifting toward the phone still recording him, before one corner of his lips twitched.

"Or..." he continued, raising an eyebrow, "did you actually like what you saw? Is that why you're recording me... hmm?"

Aarohi completely ignored his question as though she hadn't even heard it. Her face still carried the same blank expression of someone whose entire worldview had just collapsed in front of her eyes. She stared at him for another few seconds before finally asking, in complete and genuine confusion,

"Who the fuck swims in the middle of the night?"

There wasn't even a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

She honestly wanted to know.

Siddharth simply shrugged.

His feet pushed lightly against the tiled floor beneath the water, sending him gliding backward with effortless ease. Every stroke was smooth, controlled, and almost completely silent, barely disturbing the crystal-clear surface of the pool. Even while answering her question, his breathing remained steady, making it painfully obvious that this wasn't something unusual for him.

"Me," he replied casually. "Any problem?"

His tone was so normal that it somehow made the situation even more ridiculous.

Aarohi stood there speechless.

How was he saying that so casually?

Who answered "Me" to that question like it was the most ordinary thing in the world?

Without stopping for long, Siddharth continued swimming another lap before slowing down near the edge of the pool. He planted his feet against the bottom and straightened up, the water reaching just below his chest as droplets rolled down his face and shoulders.

Then, with the most relaxed expression imaginable, he looked at her.

"Wanna join me?"

He paused for dramatic effect before the corner of his lips curved upward.

"Because I'm pretty sure you'd want to swim with a hot man like—"

He never got to finish the sentence.

Aarohi's eye twitched.

That was it.

Every ounce of frustration she'd been bottling up since leaving the bedroom finally exploded.

Her perfect investigation...

Ruined.

Her secret detective mission...

Ruined.

Her dramatic mafia exposure...

Ruined.

Her imaginary police award...

Ruined.

Everything had fallen apart because this absolute duffer of a man had decided that one-thirty in the morning was the perfect time to swim laps in his enormous basement swimming pool.

Without thinking for even a second, she hurled the baseball bat straight toward him.

The bat sliced through the air with surprising speed.

Siddharth's eyes widened.

"Whoa—!"

Instinct took over.

Without hesitation, he immediately ducked beneath the water, disappearing completely just as the bat flew over the exact spot where his head had been only a moment earlier.

The bat continued past him before landing on the poolside floor with a loud CLANG!, the sound echoing throughout the entire basement.

For a brief second...

Silence.

The ripples spread across the water.

Aarohi remained standing there, breathing heavily, glaring at the spot where he'd disappeared beneath the surface.

She was furious.

Absolutely furious.

Deep inside, she knew what had happened tonight.

She knew the senior at her workplace had tried to convince her earlier that day that Siddharth was nothing more than an ordinary citizen.

She knew tonight's investigation had failed spectacularly.

She knew every single piece of evidence she'd expected to collect had turned into footage of a man peacefully swimming.

But accepting defeat?

Absolutely not.

She folded her arms stubbornly.

No.

She refused.

She wasn't going to believe any of it until she investigated everything herself.

There had to be something suspicious.

There just had to be.

No one was this normal.

Giving Siddharth one last annoyed glare, she spun around sharply and marched out of the basement without another word, her slippers making irritated little slapping sounds against the floor as she climbed the stairs.

By the time she reached the bedroom, she was still grumbling silently to herself.

She flopped onto the bed with far more force than necessary, pulled the blanket over herself in one irritated movement, and lay there with an expression that clearly said she had been personally offended by reality itself.

Downstairs, several seconds passed before Siddharth cautiously lifted his head above the surface of the water.

He looked around once.

Then twice.

Only after making absolutely sure Aarohi had really left did he let out the breath he had been holding.

For a brief moment, he simply floated there, blinking in disbelief.

He genuinely couldn't process what had just happened.

One minute, he had been peacefully swimming.

Next, a baseball bat had come flying toward his face because someone had apparently mistaken his nightly workout for organized crime.

The thought replayed in his mind once more.

This time...

He couldn't hold it in.

A quiet laugh escaped him.

Then another.

He covered part of his face with one wet hand, shaking his head as he remembered the utterly defeated expression on Aarohi's face when she had discovered his so-called mafia headquarters was nothing more than a swimming pool.

That expression alone had been worth witnessing.

Still smiling to himself, Siddharth finally pushed the bizarre incident aside. He took a slow breath, adjusted his posture, and dived back into the water once again.

After all, this was simply part of his daily routine.

Every night, when the house was asleep and the world had grown quiet, he exercised by swimming in the middle of the night.

To him, there was nothing unusual about it at all.