It was the quiet after the storm.
The interview had gone viral.
Support flooded in for Zoha—comments, calls, messages from strangers thanking her for standing strong, for showing grace.
But not everyone rejoiced.
And Meher?
She was livid.
The spotlight used to belong to her.
The power.
The name.
The man.
She watched the interview again, bitterness swirling in her throat like poison.
Then she picked up the phone and said four chilling words to her lawyer:
"I want my son."
That morning, Zoha was in the nursery, playing peek-a-boo with Ezra.
He clapped with pure joy, his tiny hands grabbing her face as he giggled uncontrollably.
She kissed his forehead, whispering, "I love you more than you'll ever know."
But the moment shattered when the door slammed open.
Zafar stormed in, jaw tight, phone in hand.
"What's wrong?" Zoha asked, standing quickly.
"She filed for partial custody."
Zoha's heart sank. "She wants Ezra?"
Zafar's voice was pure steel.
"She wants to use him. She doesn't care about him. She just wants to hurt you."
Later that day, Zafar met Meher at her corporate office.
It wasn't a meeting—it was a war.
"You're not taking my son," he said bluntly.
Meher leaned back, her lips curved into a poisonous smile.
"Why not? He's mine too. Legally."
Zafar stepped closer, voice icy.
"You left him when he couldn't even open his eyes. You don't get to change your mind now just because your pride got bruised."
Meher narrowed her eyes.
"Or maybe I just don't like seeing you play house with that orphan girl."
Zafar's face darkened.
"Don't you dare speak about her."
"She's just a toy," Meher spat. "The next scandal waiting to happen."
Zafar's voice dropped so low it sent shivers.
"Zoha is the mother Ezra deserves. The woman I chose. And the love you threw away."
The next day, Meher tried to visit the mansion.
She smiled sweetly at the guards.
"I'm here to see my son."
But she didn't get past the gate.
Zafar's voice came through the intercom like thunder.
"You had your chance. You lost it. Don't come back."
And then... silence.
Just like that, she was shut out.
From the life she once abandoned.
From the child she never loved.
From the man who finally saw through her.
That night, Zoha watched Zafar carry Ezra in his arms, his expression softer than ever before.
He sat beside her, letting Ezra fall asleep on his chest.
Then he looked at her.
"I want to change his last name," he said.
Zoha blinked. "What?"
"I want his name to carry something that means home. Not a legacy of lies."
He placed Ezra gently in her arms.
"I want your name next to his."
Tears slipped down her cheek.
"You mean that?"
He nodded, pressing a kiss to her temple.
"You and him… you're my only family now."