The morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a soft glow across Zara's room. The little girl's fever had finally broken, her breathing steady and calm as she lay tucked beneath the blankets. Ahad sat beside her bed, looking utterly exhausted yet relieved. He hadn't left her side all night, even after Naira had insisted he get some sleep.

"Papa..." Zara murmured as her eyes fluttered open.

Ahad leaned in, his large hand gently brushing her hair back. "Good morning, meri jaan. How are you feeling?"

Her lips curved into a weak but genuine smile. "Better... I'm not hot anymore."

"That's because you're so strong," he said, his voice low and warm. "You fought it off like a little warrior."

Zara giggled softly, still too tired to respond fully. Naira entered the room, holding a tray with a bowl of soup. Her gaze softened at the sight of Ahad sitting there, disheveled but attentive, as though Zara's health was his entire world.

"She needs to eat something," Naira said, placing the tray on the bedside table.

Ahad took the bowl before Naira could, carefully blowing on the soup to cool it down. He scooped up a small spoonful and brought it to Zara's lips. "Here, meri gudiya, just a little."

Zara obediently took a sip, her eyes lighting up when she tasted the warm broth. Naira watched the interaction with a mix of awe and tenderness. This man-the cold, fearsome Ahad Khan-had transformed into the most doting father she'd ever seen.

"She's definitely your favorite," Mina piped up from the doorway, pouting playfully.

Ahad glanced over, a rare smile breaking across his face. "You're all my favorites. But Zara was sick, so she gets extra attention."

Mina marched over and crossed her arms. "Then I want soup too."

"Done," Ahad said with a smirk. "I'll make some more for you."

"Who are you, and what have you done to the scary Ahad Khan?" Naira teased as she followed him out of the room.

He gave her a sidelong glance, the corner of his lips twitching. "Scary? Is that how you see me?"

She raised an eyebrow, leaning closer. "Not anymore. You're practically a marshmallow now."

He stepped closer, his intense gaze locking with hers. "For you and the girls? Always."

A week later, with Zara fully recovered, Ahad decided to take the family to a park-a real one, outside the walls of their home. Naira was hesitant at first, worried about Zara's health and the lingering threat of the outside world, but Ahad reassured her.

"They deserve to be kids," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "I'll make sure nothing happens."

And so, the four of them arrived at a sprawling park filled with lush greenery, swings, and the laughter of children. Zara and Mina ran ahead, their giggles filling the air as they explored the playground. Naira carried a bag with snacks and water bottles, but Ahad immediately took it from her hand.

"I've got it," he said gruffly, slinging the bag over his shoulder.

"You're really leaning into this husband-and-father role, aren't you?" she teased, smiling.

"Someone has to carry your weight," he shot back, though the soft glint in his eyes betrayed his affection.

He walked ahead, carrying not just the bag but a small pouch filled with sweets for the girls-just in case they got hungry. As they approached the swings, Zara paused and turned to him.

"Baba, push me?"

"Of course, meri jaan," he said without hesitation, lifting her onto the swing. He pushed her gently, his strong hands careful not to scare her.

Naira sat on a nearby bench, watching him with a mix of pride and amusement. He was completely immersed in the moment, his stern demeanor melting away as Zara squealed with delight.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she noticed a boy approaching Mina, who was climbing the jungle gym. The boy looked around Mina's age and seemed friendly enough, but Ahad's reaction was immediate. His brows furrowed, and his jaw tightened as he strode toward them.

"Mina," he called out, his tone firm. "Come here."

The boy froze, looking up at Ahad with wide eyes before scampering off. Mina climbed down, her expression confused. "Baba, he was just saying hi."

"He doesn't need to," Ahad muttered, his protective instincts flaring. "Stay with your sister."

Naira couldn't help but laugh. "Ahad, he's a child."

"So are they," he replied sharply, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the playground for any more "threats."

She stood and walked over to him, her laughter softening into a warm smile. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"Maybe," he admitted, his voice gruff. "But they're mine. No one gets to mess with them."

Naira reached out, resting a hand on his arm. "And I love that about you. But maybe tone it down a little? It's a playground, not a battlefield."

His tense shoulders relaxed slightly at her touch. "Fine," he grumbled. "But I'm keeping an eye on them."

As the girls played, Naira leaned into him, her head resting against his shoulder. He stiffened at first, unused to her initiating physical contact, but then he softened, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"Thank you," she murmured, tilting her head to look up at him.

"For what?" he asked, his brows knitting together.

"For being you. For loving them the way you do."

His gaze softened, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "You make it easy."

The outing ended with the girls exhausted but happy, their hands sticky from the sweets Ahad had brought. As they climbed into his expensive car, Mina and Zara dug into their backpacks, pulling out a sheet of colorful stickers.

"Can we decorate, Baba?" Mina asked innocently.

"Decorate what?" he asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"The car!" Zara exclaimed, holding up a sparkly unicorn sticker.

Ahad hesitated, glancing at his pristine leather interior. Before he could object, Naira laughed and waved them on. "Go ahead, girls."

"You'll regret this," he muttered under his breath as the twins went to work.

By the time they arrived home, the back seat was a kaleidoscope of glittery stickers. Naira laughed so hard she had tears in her eyes, while Ahad sat in the driver's seat, staring at the mess in disbelief.

"They're your daughters," Naira teased, patting his arm.

"They're menaces," he grumbled, though his lips twitched with the hint of a smile.

Later that evening, when the girls were tucked into bed, Naira found him sitting in the living room, staring at one of the stickers they'd stuck to his sleeve.

"You didn't peel it off?" she asked, amused.

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's from them. Why would I?"

Naira leaned down and kissed his cheek, her heart full. For all his grumpiness, Ahad Khan was undeniably, irrevocably theirs.