The Man Who Called Himself My Father
1576 Words
HELLO LOVELIES!!! ✨🤍
Okay… before we start this chapter I need you to take a breath because the last scene shocked even some of my beta readers.
Yes, the man at the door was Aara’s father. Alive and armed and clearly not happy to see her alive either, but the real question is why.
This chapter answers some things… and raises even bigger questions.
As always, ignore small dialogue slips if you see any. Editing will happen later. Do well to comment and vote.
Let’s continue.
Phase – I
★★★
AARA
Arjun’s Safehouse 2:04 AM
The front doors of the safehouse hung broken on their hinges and smoke from the explosion still lingered in the hallway.
Half the lights inside the building were flickering and standing in the entrance, surrounded by armed men, was the one person I had spent years mourning.
My father, or at least the man I believed was my father, except this version of him looked nothing like the man I remembered. The father in my childhood memories had been gentle.
Quiet and soft spoken.
The man standing in front of me now looked like someone who had spent years living inside a war, his hair had turned grey. There was a thin scar cutting across his left eyebrow and the way he held that gun was… practiced. Confident.
Like he had been using it for a long time. My chest tightened painfully.
“Aara… you should have stayed dead.”
The words echoed inside the room.
Arjun moved half a step in front of me instantly.
His gun lifted toward the man at the door the rest of his men followed his lead and within seconds the safehouse turned into a frozen battlefield.
Dozens of weapons pointed in both directions, with nobody firing yet, nobody blinking all were just waiting.
Arjun’s voice broke the silence.
“You picked the wrong building to attack.”
The man my father didn’t react to the guns aimed at him. His gaze stayed locked on me.
“Step away from her.”
Arjun’s tone hardened.
“That’s not happening.”
For a moment the two men simply stared at each other then my father’s eyes slowly shifted toward Arjun.
“So you’re the Rathore boy.”
Arjun didn’t lower his weapon.
“And you’re the ghost who was supposed to be dead.”
Something flickered across the older man’s expression. Amusement maybe.
“You inherited your father’s mouth.”
“And you inherited his enemies.”
The tension inside the room thickened. I finally found my voice. “What is going on?”
Both men ignored the question which only made my frustration explode.
“Someone answer me!”
My father looked back at me. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Then where should I be?”
“Gone.” The word landed like a slap. My throat tightened.
“You’re telling your daughter she should be dead?”
His expression didn’t soften.
“You stopped being my daughter the night you pushed me off that bridge.”
My stomach dropped.
“So it’s true.”
“Yes.”
“And you survived.”
“Barely.”
Memories started flashing in my mind again.
Rain.
The bridge and his hand grabbing my arm also the sound of Arjun shouting behind us.
My voice came out shaky. “You tried to kill me.”
His eyes hardened. “You ruined everything.”
“What did I ruin?”
Instead of answering, he turned toward Arjun.
“This conversation doesn’t involve you.”
Arjun’s response came instantly.
“She’s my wife.”
My father laughed softly.
“That marriage won’t last the week.”
“Try me.”
The two men stared each other down again then Raghav stepped forward from the side of the room.
“Okay, I’m bored already.”
Every gun in the room shifted slightly toward him. Raghav raised both hands casually. “Relax. I’m not the enemy tonight.”
My father’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“You’re the younger Rathore.”
“The better looking one, yes.”
Arjun shot him an annoyed look.
“Not helping.”
Raghav shrugged.
Then his gaze returned to the older man.
“I’ve been curious about you.”
“Why?”
“Because people who disappear for six years usually stay disappeared.”
A small smile appeared on my father’s lips.
“Unless they have unfinished business.”
“And that business is?”
His eyes moved back to me.
“Her.”
My stomach twisted again.
“You came here to kill me?”
“Yes.”
Arjun’s gun clicked slightly as his finger tightened on the trigger.
“That’s not happening.”
The older man tilted his head.
“You’re willing to start a war over this girl?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation, no doubt, just that one word. Something in my chest shifted slightly hearing it but the moment didn’t last because the next thing my father said made the room even colder.
“You have no idea what she really is.”
Arjun’s voice dropped.
“Explain.”
The older man took a slow step forward. Half the guns in the room followed him. But he ignored them.
“Six years ago the Rathore family discovered something.”
Raghav folded his arms.
“About her.”
“Yes.”
Arjun’s eyes flicked toward me briefly then back to him.
“What.”
My father’s voice turned quieter.
“Her blood.”
The word confused me. “What does that mean?”
“You were born with something extremely valuable.”
Raghav frowned. “Don’t speak in riddles.”
So the older man finally said it plainly. “Her blood can unlock the Rathore vault.”
The room went silent, even Arjun looked surprised.
“The vault requires two blood signatures,” the man continued.
“One from the Rathore bloodline…”
Pause.
“…and one from the family who built the empire with them.”
Raghav blinked.
“That family died a century ago.”
My father shook his head slowly.
“No.”
Then he pointed directly at me. “She’s the last descendant.”
My mind spun. “I don’t understand.”
Arjun’s voice turned very quiet.
“The Mehtas.”
My heart skipped. “That’s my last name.”
“Yes.”
Raghav suddenly laughed.
“Oh this just keeps getting better.”
I looked at Arjun.
“What vault are you talking about?”
He hesitated which was rare for him then he answered.
“The original Rathore vault contains every asset our family has hidden over the last hundred years.”
My mouth went dry. "How much money is that?”
Raghav answered casually. “Enough to buy three countries.”
Silence swallowed the room again then I slowly looked back at my father.
“You tried to kill me… for money?”
His expression hardened.
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because if you unlock that vault…”
Pause.
“…every war in this country will start.”
Arjun frowned. “That doesn’t make sense.”
The older man’s eyes darkened. “Because what’s inside that vault isn’t just money.”
Now everyone was listening carefully.
“What else is inside?” Arjun asked.
The answer came quietly.
“Names.”
“Names of who?”
“Every politician. Every judge. Every general who has ever taken Rathore money.”
Raghav’s smile disappeared.
“Oh.”
My father nodded.
“If that vault opens… the entire system collapses.”
My brain struggled to process that.
“So you wanted me dead to protect them?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
His gaze turned cold again.
“Because if the Rathores get control of that vault…”
He looked directly at Arjun.
“…they become untouchable.”
Arjun didn’t respond immediately.
Then he said something unexpected.
“My mother already has the key.”
The older man shook his head.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Silence stretched between them.
Then my father said something that made my stomach twist.
“She has half the key.”
Pause.
“The other half…”
His finger pointed at me again.
“…is you.” And suddenly the safehouse alarm screamed again. Louder than before, one of Arjun’s guards rushed to the security screen.
“Boss!”
“What now?”
The man zoomed the camera toward the street. My heart dropped. More vehicles were coming, dozens of them with armored trucks. Men pouring out with weapons.
Raghav whistled softly.
“Well… this night keeps getting crowded.”
Arjun’s eyes narrowed.
“That’s my mother’s army.”
My father shook his head slowly.
“No.”
Everyone turned toward him.
“Then whose?” Arjun asked.
The older man’s voice came out almost calm.
“The people who built that vault.”
The front wall of the safehouse exploded inward. Concrete shattered. Smoke filled the room and through the dust walked a woman wearing a black coat.
Her face slowly becoming visible as the smoke cleared. My heart stopped because I recognized her immediately, it was the woman from the hospital footage.
The woman I thought was dead for eight years.
My mother. Her eyes locked onto mine and the first thing she said was something I never expected to hear.
“Aara… we’re running out of time.”
- Writer
