"Alright, alright. Enough talking for today. Let's have dinner now," Kavita ji said, smiling.
Then she looked at Nidhi and asked softly,
"You must be hungry, Nidhi. We've been talking for so long that we almost forgot about food."
"Today's dinner is special," Raghav ji said warmly.
"Your mom and I cooked everything ourselves. Eat and tell us how it is."
The entire dining table was filled with a variety of dishes. Every item had been prepared personally by Raghav ji and Kavita ji.
This sight made Mansi extremely jealous, because they had never done anything like this for her.
Kavita ji kept serving Nidhi again and again, filling her plate completely.
Though they also served Mansi equally and kept asking her to eat, Mansi could only focus on one thing—
Nidhi is getting more love than me.
"You are so thin, Nidhi," Kavita ji said lovingly.
"You don't take proper care of yourself. Eat well."
Daisy stood quietly nearby, watching Mansi.
Or rather, watching her jealousy.
After dinner, Nidhi went to her room to rest.
Taking advantage of the moment, Natasha started talking casually with her parents and finally asked what she really wanted to know.
"Dad, Mom… how did you confirm that Nidhi is your biological daughter?
Was there something special in that online post?"
What Natasha truly wanted to ask was—
What if Nidhi is pretending to be the Singhania family's daughter?
After all, who wouldn't want to be the daughter of India's richest family?
Raghav ji was surprised by the question but then smiled.
"There was nothing special," he said calmly.
"All the incidents mentioned in that post happened on the night Nidhi was born.
The hospital name, room number, the fire, the chaos, and the babies getting mixed up—everything matched perfectly."
"Oh… I see," Mansi said slowly, taking a deep breath.
"For our complete satisfaction," Raghav ji continued,
"they sent us a strand of Nidhi's hair. We did a DNA test. The match was 99.99%.
And when we saw her childhood photo, she looked exactly like your mother in her younger days."
Hearing this, Mansi felt terrible.
The last bit of hope left in her heart was fading.
Still, she wasn't ready to accept it completely.
"Then how did you know that I'm not your biological daughter?" she asked.
"We tested your hair as well," Raghav ji replied gently.
That was it.
Mansi's last hope shattered completely.
"Mansi," Kavita ji said softly,
"I know you're not our biological daughter, but we've lived together for so many years. You're no less than our own child."
No less than our own child.
That sentence hurt Mansi deeply.
Even though Kavita ji was still looking at her with love, Mansi knew—
things would never be the same again.
Hugging her parents, Mansi said,
"Mom, Dad… I love you so much. I'll always take care of you."
After spending some time with them, Mansi went to her room on the second floor.
But the moment she reached upstairs, she froze.
The entire floor had been renovated.
Every room was designed in a different style and theme.
Shocked, Mansi stopped a maid and asked,
"What happened to these rooms?"
"Sir and Madam wanted to welcome Little Miss," the maid replied.
"So they hired a famous international designer.
The entire second floor has been renovated—except your room.
They didn't know what kind of room Little Miss would like."
Hearing this, Mansi's face fell.
Looking around carefully, the maid moved closer and whispered,
"No, Miss… she grew up in a middle-class family.
In the end, she chose a simple room instead of these luxurious ones.
She even asked for the famous painting from the living room to be moved to the lounge."
Mansi was stunned.
"She noticed all this on the very first day?" she asked.
"Yes, Miss. Sir and Madam listen to her a lot," the maid replied.
Jealousy and anger filled Mansi's eyes.
"Please listen to me, Miss Mansi," the maid said nervously.
"You should not go abroad for studies.
If you leave, the new Miss will take over everything."
"Alright, you can go now," Mansi said coldly.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Wait," Mansi suddenly stopped her.
"You're Meena, right?"
She removed a diamond bracelet from her wrist and handed it to the maid.
"I heard someone from your family is hospitalized.
This bracelet will help with the treatment."
"Thank you, Miss Mansi," Meena said, loyalty shining in her eyes.
After sending her away, Mansi began planning silently.
Even if Nidhi is their biological daughter, she thought,
I've lived with Mom and Dad for so many years.
I just need to use that.
Next Morning
City Hospital, Room No. 206.
The door opened, and Shubham walked in with his powerful presence.
The old man lying on the bed stirred slightly.
When Mahendra ji opened his eyes and saw his grandson, his expression softened.
"So you're here, little devil?" he asked weakly.
Shubham nodded gently.
"How are you feeling?"
"What happened to me?" Mahendra ji asked, looking around.
"Why does my whole body hurt?"
"You stopped eating and taking your medicines," Shubham replied calmly.
Mahendra ji had deliberately done that just to force Shubham to agree with him.
It had almost cost him his life.
"I'm in pain," Mahendra ji complained.
Instead of helping, Shubham said coolly,
"You're lucky you survived. A little pain is expected after all this drama."
"You brat," Mahendra ji snapped.
"I just woke up, can't you talk properly?"
He turned his face away angrily.
"Tell me, how long has it been since you last visited me?
When was the last time you listened to me?"
If Mahendra ji hadn't created such a scene, Shubham would never have come.
"You shouldn't have tried to force me into things I don't want," Shubham replied.
Whenever Shubham visited, his grandfather pressured him to marry Mansi from the Singhania family.
The engagement had been fixed years ago by the elders.
But Shubham had zero interest—especially in Mansi.
"I don't care," Mahendra ji said stubbornly.
"I'm already half dead. One day I'll die anyway.
Bring your fiancée here tomorrow."
"I don't have a fiancée," Shubham said firmly.
"Do you want to give me a heart attack?" Mahendra ji shouted.
"Our families decided this marriage years ago.
You have to marry Mansi."
"That was your decision, not mine," Shubham said casually.
"Since you created this mess, you should clean it up yourself."
"Oh! My heart!" Mahendra ji clutched his chest dramatically.
"Yug, call the doctor," Shubham ordered calmly.
"There's no need," Mahendra ji interrupted.
"I've said what I wanted to say.
If you don't come tomorrow with Mansi, forget that you even have a grandfather."
Seeing them argue, Yug tried to calm the situation.
"Sir, please relax. You just had surgery."
"You both are always busy with work," Mahendra ji snapped.
"Don't you have time for your personal lives at all?"
Yug stood there silently, wondering how he got dragged into all this.