Silence.
It settled over the dining hall like a heavy veil.
Only moments earlier...
The room had been filled with laughter.
With birthday plans.
With playful arguments over cakes and decorations.
Now...
No one spoke.
Even the cheerful clinking of cutlery had ceased.
Every pair of eyes rested on Damiano.
He remained calm.
His expression didn't change.
He wasn't embarrassed.
He wasn't uncertain.
He had spoken the words after thinking about them for weeks.
Months, perhaps.
There was no hesitation left inside him.
Only conviction.
Alankrita sat frozen.
She stared at him in complete disbelief.
Did I hear him correctly?
Her pulse hammered violently inside her ears.
Marriage?
Her?
She had expected many things during this dinner.
Never...
This.
Not in front of everyone.
Not so suddenly.
Across the table...
Vittorio slowly placed his fork down.
He looked carefully at his eldest son.
There was surprise in his eyes.
But there was also curiosity.
Finally...
He spoke.
"Son..."
His voice remained gentle.
"...she is only nineteen."
No accusation.
No anger.
Only concern.
Damiano's eyes never left his father.
"I know."
His answer came quietly.
Yet there wasn't the slightest trace of doubt.
He continued,
"I know exactly how old she is."
His gaze slowly shifted.
It found Alankrita.
She instinctively lowered her eyes.
Unable to bear the intensity with which he looked at her.
There was no obsession in that gaze anymore.
Only respect.
Only certainty.
He looked back at his father.
"Papa..."
His voice became softer.
"But she is a virgin."
The room remained completely still.
"She is pure."
"Untouched."
"No man has ever claimed her."
He paused briefly.
Searching for words worthy enough.
"Her heart..."
"...is the purest heart I have ever known."
His voice almost broke.
"She carries pain without bitterness."
"She carries responsibility without complaint."
"She became a mother while still a child herself..."
"...yet she never once failed her son."
He looked toward Raghuveer.
The little boy sat happily chewing another piece of bread.
Completely unaware that his future was being discussed around him.
A faint smile appeared on Damiano's face.
"I love Raghuveer."
His words echoed across the silent hall.
"He is my world, Papa."
Not my responsibility.
Not my duty.
Not someone I pity.
"My world."
The simple sentence carried a depth no speech could have matched.
Damiano's eyes softened.
"I don't see him as someone else's child."
"I see..."
He smiled unconsciously.
"...my Little Prince."
The family exchanged emotional glances.
They had witnessed the bond growing every day.
Now...
They finally understood its meaning.
Damiano inhaled slowly.
Then spoke the final words that had lived inside his heart for so long.
"I will marry only her."
"No one else."
"If she refuses..."
"I will remain unmarried."
His voice never rose.
It didn't need to.
Its quiet certainty filled the room far more powerfully than anger ever could.
For several long moments...
No one moved.
Then...
Lavanya quietly stood from her chair.
She walked around the table until she reached her son.
Everyone watched silently.
She placed one gentle hand against his cheek.
Tears shimmered in her eyes.
"My son..."
she whispered.
"I have no objection."
Damiano looked up.
She smiled through her tears.
"Alankrita is everything I ever prayed for in a daughter-in-law."
"So gentle."
"So respectful."
"So traditional."
"So strong."
Her eyes drifted toward the young woman sitting in stunned silence.
"And Raghuveer..."
A warm smile spread across her face.
"I already love him."
"He has been my grandson from the moment he smiled at me."
She gently squeezed Damiano's shoulder.
"If this is truly your heart..."
"...then you have my blessing."
Damiano lowered his head respectfully.
"Thank you, Mama."
Everyone's attention turned toward Vittorio.
The patriarch remained silent for a long time.
He wasn't studying Alankrita.
He was studying his son.
The determination.
The sincerity.
The quiet devotion.
He had watched Damiano become one of the world's greatest chefs.
He had watched him win awards.
Build an empire.
Travel the world.
But never...
Not once...
Had he seen him look at anyone the way he looked at Alankrita and Raghuveer.
Not with ambition.
Not with possession.
With belonging.
Finally...
A slow smile appeared on Vittorio's face.
He rose from his chair.
Walked toward Damiano.
And placed a firm hand on his shoulder.
"If your heart has chosen..."
he said quietly,
"...then a father has no greater duty than to bless it."
His grip tightened affectionately.
"I support you."
A wave of relief washed through the room.
Before anyone else could react...
Aravind suddenly sprang to his feet.
"I knew it!"
he laughed.
"I told everyone this day would come!"
Rohan burst into laughter.
"We've been waiting for him to admit it for weeks!"
The brothers immediately began clapping.
Their applause echoed through the dining hall.
Soon...
One by one...
The rest of the family joined in.
Warm smiles appeared everywhere.
Congratulations.
Blessings.
Laughter slowly returned.
The atmosphere transformed once again.
Everyone seemed happy.
Everyone...
Except one person.
Alankrita remained perfectly still.
The applause sounded distant.
Almost unreal.
She couldn't hear the conversations anymore.
She couldn't see the smiling faces.
Only one sentence continued echoing inside her mind.
"I will marry only her."
Her hands trembled beneath the table.
Marriage.
She had never imagined her future anymore.
After Raghuveer's birth...
Every dream had ended.
Her entire world had become one tiny boy.
Now...
Without warning...
Someone had placed an entirely different future before her.
One she had never dared imagine.
One she wasn't sure she was ready to accept.
She slowly looked toward Raghuveer.
He smiled at her innocently.
Completely unaware...
That every adult in the room had already begun dreaming of a family...
While she was still trying to understand how her own heart felt.