OMKARA

I look at Bhavya sharply as she glares at Rudra, snatching the file back from me.

"You're a pig!" she hisses.

"Like you're any better!" he snaps.

The two always clash. They had dated for a short while and were inseparable, but after a nasty breakup, they can't even stand being in each other's presence. Often, Gauri and I had to calm them down.

"Answer me, Bhavya," I say, ignoring Ishana, who has walked over to me, clinging on to my arm.

"Answer him, Bhavya," Rudra repeats, earning himself another deadly glare.

Does he have a death wish?

"Fine! You want to hear it? Then listen! She was pregnant, but she no longer is. Satisfied now?" she glares at the three of us.

Ishana rolls her eyes and walks off to my desk, but her callous behavior is the least of my worries.

"Was?" I ask, my stomach twisting with nerves. A dreadful thought settles into my mind. "What do you mean? Did she get rid of it?"

Bhavya hugs the file to her chest and shakes her head vigorously.

"No, Alpha, Gauri would never do that. It was your rejection that caused her to miscarry," she says bitterly.

My head jolts up sharply, and I stare at her, letting those words sink in.

I... I'm the reason my child is dead...

"What the fuck, Bhavya?" Rudra snarls, grabbing her arm.

"That is why I was saying don't tell him!" she shrieks.

"Stop it," I say, my voice cold. My heart is thundering like a galloping horse in my chest, replaying our last days in my mind.

Why didn't she tell me?

"She must have known that a rejection could risk our child's life. Why did she do it?!" I growl.

Bhavya looks down. "You left her no option. She tried to talk to you..."

She glances coldly at Ishana. "You were too busy trying to get rid of her."

The guilt and regret I'm feeling now change to anger, and I turn, punching the first thing my hand connects with. My wine collection from my bar goes flying, shattering against the wall and spilling over the rug. The strong smell of alcohol fills the air.

"She should have told me she was pregnant!" I snarl.

"She was going to, but instead, you handed her divorce papers, Alpha," Bhavya says. I can smell her fear as she takes a step back, but even then, she's defending her friend.

I freeze, remembering that night.

'What did you want to tell me?... It doesn't matter anymore...'

Was that why she had refused the wine I had offered her that day? She had been in such a rush to get the rejection over with.

Did she really plan to simply take my child and leave?

Thanks to her selfishness, we lost the baby.

I run my fingers through my tousled hair. The entire place feels too small, and their presence is becoming far too overwhelming.

"Are you serious?" I hear Rudra murmur.

"I am. It's why I said to you not to tell him. It would only hurt him as it did Gauri. I have things to do." Her footsteps recede as she leaves the room.

The gut-wrenching guilt is becoming unbearable to handle.

Rejected, and then to have your child taken from you, how is she coping?

I scrub my hand down my face, trying to control my emotions, when there's a frantic knock on the door before it swings open to reveal one of my staff members.

"Alpha, your parents are back!" John says, his face pale.

Fuck!

I jump up from my seat. This is not good—they were not meant to be back for another few months!

What am I going to tell them about Gauri?

I rush down the stairs, hoping the cook knew what she needed to do.

"Rishi, get someone to clean the mansion and stock the fridge," I command him.

"Understood, Alpha!"

I barely go back there now. Every corner of the house reminds me of her.

Memories of us together...

"The car has pulled up," John repeats something one of the guards tells him through his earpiece.

Ever since I became Alpha, my parents would spend months away from the pack, not having any responsibilities now that I handle all the pack and business affairs.

However, despite their sporadic trips and returns, it was Gauri who would have everything in place, as well as a luxurious meal ready on the table to welcome them home.

She remembered everything and kept this pack in shape. She was always there keeping everything organized.

I hurry down the stairs and rush outside, fixing my hair a little—or trying to—just in time to see the driver open the door for Dad.

Rudra steps up beside me, standing with his back straight, chin up, shoulders squared, and feet apart. His hands are clasped behind his back, and the rest of the staff who have stepped out to welcome them follow his lead.

Just how Dad likes it.

He's standing there in a dark grey suit. His dark aura swirls around him, and his eyes are sharp as he scans the gardens of the Pack Hall.

A man that stands for discipline, respect, and power.

His cold eyes meet mine, and I give him a small nod. He doesn't acknowledge it, though, as Mom steps out of the car, thanking the driver for opening the door.

Mom is the opposite of Dad. She's wearing a fuchsia pink summer dress with white flowers on it and matching white heels. On her head, she has a feather plume hat.

She now turns, hoisting her bag onto her wrist and lowering her shades.

"Is this my welcome?" she says, displeased.

But then she asks the one question I am truly dreading and have no answer to.

"Now where is my daughter-in-law? Only she knows how to give a proper welcome!"

Shit!