He chuckles softly. I step out, nerves buzzing under my skin. As I walk to the entrance, I glance back. Rudra’s still sitting in the car, watching me. He waves. He’s so cute. Not that he’d like hearing that. Okay, Shivani. You can do this. They’re just humans. They won’t eat you. The receptionist leads me to a conference room. I take a deep breath and walk in, greeted by a group of editors who smile as I enter.
"Shivani, welcome! Please, have a seat," one of them greets me warmly. The tension in my shoulders eases, but it comes back again. I inhale deeply before moving to my designated seat.
"Thank you," I say, taking the seat offered and handing over my manuscript. My hands tremble slightly.
"We’ve already read the summary you emailed, along with the first five chapters we requested." They exchange glances. I can’t read their expressions, and my heart thunders so hard, I’m half convinced they can hear it too. "Overall, Shivani, we’re really impressed with your work."
Everything around me goes still. My brain blanks for a second. In a good way, I guess, because they’re… impressed? With my work?
"Thank you," I breathe, a smile breaking across my face. "That means so much to me."
"We’d like you to meet with our boss to finalize the plan for your book launch and talk about the next steps."
My stomach flips. The boss? This is getting too real, too fast. I nod mutely as they guide me to another office. But as the door opens, I freeze.
Sitting behind the desk is Rudra, looking completely at ease.
"Rudraksh?" My voice is barely a whisper. "What are you doing here?"
He stands up, rounding the desk. "Hi, baby, I wanted to surprise you. I just bought the company." My heart sinks. All my happiness vanishes into thin air.
"You bought the company?" I stare at him. "Are you mad? Why would you buy a publishing house? You’re not even interested in books!" My voice trembles. "Did you… did you do it for me?" Disappointment crashes over me like a wave.
"Rudra," I whisper, tears stinging my eyes, "I wanted to do this on my own. I wanted to prove my worth without your help." His gaze softens. He reaches for my hand, but I pull back.
"Why?" My voice cracks. "Why did you feel the need to interfere? I wanted to prove myself. My worth. Not as your wife—but as a writer."
"Hey, shh, shh," he says gently, pulling me into a hug, but I resist. "Shivani, listen to me. The editors didn’t know you were my wife. They loved your book. They did their jobs honestly." I blink up at him, confused.
"This company technically isn’t mine yet," he explains, scratching the back of his head. "I’m still in talks with the board. I just… when I saw how nervous and anxious you were, I couldn’t sit back and watch you struggle."
He gives me a sheepish smile.
"So…" I sniff. "You’re saying I did it on my own? They actually liked my book?" He nods, wiping my cheeks.
A smile breaks across my face. Relief, pride, disbelief—everything hits me at once. I squeal and jump into his arms, laughing through the tears. He laughs too, holding me tightly.
"Thank you for believing in me when even I didn’t," I say, breathing him in.
"Always, baby." He presses his lips to mine, and I melt.
"You’re mad, you know," I say, trying to sound serious, breathless from both the kiss and the whirlwind of emotions. "You didn’t have to buy an entire company just because I was anxious."
"Hey, I was just trying to be romantic!" He exclaims, mock defending himself.
"You’re unbelievable," I whisper, resting my forehead against his.
"And you’re unstoppable," he replies, his voice full of admiration.
And at this moment, I might believe him. I am really proud of myself.
47
RUDRAKSH
The chair opposite mine creaks slightly, the sound too soft for anyone else to notice, but I do. I glance up from the pile of contracts spread out on my desk and meet a pair of round, unblinking black eyes. Simba. Again. He’s sitting there like he owns the damn place, his tail flicking lazily, his little body sinking comfortably into the cushion of my office chair. I narrow my eyes at him, and of course, he just stares back with the same intensity, like he’s challenging me.
I drop my pen with a sigh and lean back in my chair, crossing my arms. “You know, you’ve been taking up way too much space around here,” I tell him seriously, as if he’s going to suddenly feel guilty and move. He doesn’t. Instead, he blinks once, slow and unaffected.
