Chapter 67 – Victory and Shattered Joy

Veeresh’s heart was a storm. The final stroke of the mission had just unfolded—his team stormed the old godown, weapons ready, and dragged out the man behind all the darkness—Rishi Raj. His own uncle, cuffed and exposed in front of the world.

Veeresh stood over him, jaw tight, eyes burning.

“For years I thought it was my brothers… you destroyed families, destroyed lives. But today, justice will be served. Not by blood, but by law.”

Rishi spat venom. “You think you’ve won, Veeresh? Family never forgives betrayal—”

Veeresh cut him off coldly.

“You betrayed this family first. You betrayed humanity. You’re finished.”

The team escorted Rishi away, but Veeresh’s phone buzzed at that exact moment. His father’s voice, urgent, broke through.

“Veeresh… Poornima… she’s in the hospital. She’s in labor. Come now, son!”

The world froze. Without another word, Veeresh grabbed his jeep and drove like a man possessed, heart pounding louder than the engine.

---

When he entered the hospital, he saw his mother pacing outside the labor room, worry written on her face. His father, calm but heavy-eyed, placed a hand on his shoulder.

“She’s strong. She’ll make it. Go, son.”

Minutes later, the cries of a newborn echoed through the corridors. Veeresh stumbled forward, tears flooding his eyes as the nurse placed a tiny, fragile bundle in his arms.

His son. His first heartbeat outside of himself.

The world melted away as Veeresh looked down—the baby’s tiny fists curling, his soft cry echoing into his chest. He smiled through his tears, whispering,

“My son… my boy… Appa is here. I promised your mother I’d be the first to hold you, and here I am. You are my life. You are our forever.”

His father entered and placed a trembling hand on Veeresh’s shoulder, seeing his grandson for the first time.

“You’ve given me back my faith, Veeresh. He’s perfect.”

For a moment, happiness filled the room. Generations bound together. A son, a father, a grandfather—united by blood, love, and promise.

---

But then—the doctor came out, his face tense.

“Mr. Raj…”

Veeresh’s smile faltered. “Yes, doctor? How’s my wife?”

The words cut like knives.

“I’m sorry. Your wife… slipped into a coma. The delivery caused severe blood loss. She fought hard, but her body was too tired. She’s alive… but unconscious.”

The baby’s soft cry in his arms turned to thunder in Veeresh’s ears. His knees weakened.

“No… no, doctor. No! She promised me… she promised she’d smile when I held our child. How can she not—” his voice broke, raw with anguish.

His father gripped his arm firmly, steadying him. His mother broke into tears.

Veeresh looked through the glass into the ICU, where Poornima lay pale, still, lifeless in everything except the faint rise and fall of her chest. His tears blurred her image, but his heart screamed.

He pressed his forehead against the glass, clutching his son tightly to his chest.

“Poornima… you kept your promise. I was the first to hold him. Now I promise you—I’ll bring you back. I’ll fight for you the way I fought the world. You’re mine. You’ll come back to us, to me, to our son.”

The baby stirred, as if sensing his father’s pain, and Veeresh kissed his tiny forehead, whispering,

“Appa will protect you. Amma will return to us. This is my promise.”