I have this gut feeling that Ranveer—her father—isn’t just a jerk. I think he mentally abuses her. Maybe physically, too. I hope I’m wrong, for his sake. Because if he has hurt her—if he’s ever laid even a finger on her—I swear he will regret calling himself her father. I’ll tear down everything he’s ever built. His reputation, his business, his life. And then I’ll end him. That bastard was supposed to protect her—not be the villain of her story.
A knock on the door of my office room pulls me out of my thoughts.
Before I can say anything, the door bursts open.
“You don’t need to knock anymore, Bhabhi-ji. He’s your husband now,” Aryan announces with a dramatic grin as he stretches out his hand for her, signaling her to enter the room.
“Right, Raksh?” He questions me with his eyebrows rising.
And then I see her.
Shivani.
Wearing a deep green saree that flutters around her like it’s alive, her hair catching the wind from the open window, and damn—it’s like everything slows down.
She’s so beautiful, it physically hurts.
“I think someone needs to ward off evil eyes from you, Bhabhi,” Siddhant says with a teasing grin.
“Why?” she asks, that adorable little frown on her forehead making an appearance. Blush coating her cheeks.
Sweetcheeks.
“Because of the way Rudraksh is staring at you? I think your own husband might jinx you,” he jokes, and Aryan bursts into laughter beside him. They high-five like the idiots they are, and I shoot them both a death glare.
Thankfully, they get the message and slip out before I actually punch one of them. “Get a room—oh wait, you already have one,” Aryan adds with a wink before Siddhant drags him out.
She walks in slowly, looking around like she’s unsure of something. Nervousness, that's what lingers in her eyes. Then her eyes meet mine.
“Hi,” she says, her voice soft, a little shy.
“You look beautiful,” I tell her, honestly.
And I plan on saying that a lot more in the future. Because if she ever doubts it, even for a second, it’s my responsibility to remind her just how stunning she is.
Her cheeks flush. Pink. Pretty. Delicate. It’s insane how just a few words from me can make her react like that. Makes me wonder—how will she react when I touch her?
Okay. Let’s not go there, Rudraksh. Not now. But is it my fault? Nope. I’m not a saint, alright? If my wife is going to look like this around me, then I’m only human.
“Thank you,” she whispers, eyes darting away before she adds, “You look handsome too.”
That makes me smile. A real one. I reach forward, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. Soft. She’s so soft. My fingers tingle as I brush them over her skin again.
“Thank you, darling,” I say, just to watch her blush again. It works.
“You know we’ll be living together now…” I lower my voice, stepping in just a little closer. “Will you still be this shy when I touch you?”
Her eyes snap up to mine like I just committed a crime. Wide and scandalized. God, she’s adorable.
“That’s the thing, baby,” I murmur, “I hate when you look away. I love your eyes. So you better learn to keep eye contact, or I’ll just keep teasing you like this until you do.”
She turns red, her eyes still on mine. “That was shameless,” she mutters under her breath, barely loud enough for me to hear.
I raise an eyebrow, caught off guard—but also impressed. There it is. That spark.Between us.
“That’s more like it,” I say with my lips lifting into a smirk. “I want you to say what you’re thinking. No filter with me. Ever. Confidence suits you.”
In fact, I wouldn’t mind if she tried bossing me around a little during the day. Nights, though? Those are mine—only if she lets me.
