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Author's POV
One month later…
A month had slipped by like a soft breath over silk — quiet, steady, and warm.
Jaipur had begun to see them not just as Rana Sa and Rani Sa, but as their own. Shivansh's father had officially retired, handing over the entire empire into Shivansh's hands. The weight of generations now rested on his shoulders, and yet he carried it like it had always belonged there.
Shivansh chote papa also retired and giving all the responsibility of the restaurants and cafes to Ranveer and Ranveer also had taken charge of the restaurant and café chains, turning them into a rising name across cities, while Shivansh and Isha ruled not from thrones but from tables filled with files, people, and problems.
Once every week, they walked through Jaipur together — not in luxury cars, not behind glass, but on foot — asking shopkeepers, women, elders, children:
"Sab theek hai?"
"Koi pareshaani toh nahi?"
And when trouble came, Isha solved it with a calm mind and a fearless heart.
Just a few days ago, she had rescued several young girls from a horrifying situation. Shivansh still didn't know how she had done it — she had only smiled and said,
"Dimaag aur thoda sa himmat ka use kiya."
Now those girls were safe, sheltered inside his mother's NGO, slowly learning how to live again. They had begun calling Isha "Didi", love in their eyes.
Life was moving — quietly, beautifully.
Isha woke slowly, wrapped in warmth.
The bed beside her was empty — which meant only one thing.
Gym.
Shivansh never missed it.
But something felt… off.
Usually, by the time she woke up, he was already showered, dressed, and back in the room, tying his watch or teasing her for looking to cute in sleep
Today… silence.
She rubbed her sleepy eyes, hair tumbling over her face as she sat up.
"Late ho gaye aaj?" she murmured to no one.
Still half-asleep, she walked toward the bathroom, pushed the door open—
—and froze.
Steam curled through the air.
Water was falling like rain.
And there, under the shower, stood Shivansh.
Bare, relaxed, powerful.
For one suspended second, neither of them moved.
Her eyes lifted first to his face — his dark gaze already locked onto her — then slowly, helplessly, traveled down… over his wet hair, his jaw, his neck, the lines of his chest… lower…
Her breath caught.
Her cheeks burned.
"Oh—" she gasped, eyes widening as reality finally crashed into her.
Shivansh didn't look away.
Instead, he leaned against the tiled wall, folding his arms slowly, water sliding over his skin as if the universe itself was drawing attention to him.
"Good morning, janna," he said softly, dangerously calm.
Isha stood there, frozen like she'd been caught doing something illegal — even though she was in her own room, in her own bathroom, with her own husband.
"I—I didn't know you were still—" she stammered, trying desperately to look anywhere except there.
His lips curved.
"You walked in," he said quietly, eyes dark with amusement,
"and now you're pretending you didn't."
She swallowed.
Her gaze betrayed her, flickering back to him before she could stop herself.
He straightened slightly, taking one slow step closer under the falling water, still not touching her — just close enough that the heat between them became impossible to ignore.
"Achha," he murmured and smirked
"agar dekh hi liya hai… tell me is not he is big from last time, and why are being shy, it's all your anyways."
Her face went crimson.
"Shivansh!" she protested, covering her eyes far too late. "Tum— tum bilkul bhi—"
He chuckled softly, low and warm.
"Bilkul bhi kya?"
She peeked through her fingers, mortified.
"Tum bilkul bhi sharif nahi ho."
"And you married me knowing that," he replied smoothly.
Her heart was racing now — from embarrassment, from closeness, from the way he looked at her like she was the only woman in the world.
Finally, she spun around, flustered.
"I'm leaving! You finish— I mean— I— just—"
She hurried out of the bathroom, practically tripping over her own feet.
Behind her, his quiet laughter followed her like a whisper.
And just like that, one month after becoming husband and wife…
They were still discovering each other.
Still blushing.
Still losing their breath.
Still in love.
Apparently he need the cold shower suddenly and it took time for him to relax him.
The long shower had done its job — cooling his body, but not quite calming his thoughts.
Isha.
The moment he had walked back into their bedroom and not found her there, he already knew.
She never disappeared without reason. And if she wasn't in their room, she was always in one place.
Still, he scanned the room once, his eyes flicking over the neatly moving staff, the freshly straightened curtains, the faint scent of flowers and polish.
"Where is my wife?" he asked, already buttoning the last button of his crisp white shirt.
One of the maids bowed nervously. "Guest washroom, Rana Sa… and then she went towards the West wing."
Of course she did.
His jaw tightened.
He walked straight into his wardrobe, pulled on his tailored three-piece suit — dark, sharp, perfectly him — slipped on his watch, sprayed a light layer of cologne, and walked out with long, determined strides.
Meetings or not, one thing came first.
Her.
He didn't waste another second.
The palace wing was already alive when Shivansh finally stepped out of his chamber.
Ranveer's wing was loud with laughter.
Too loud.
When Shivansh pushed open the door without knocking, the first thing he saw was Isha sitting comfortably on Ranveer's bed, legs tucked under her, hair loose, eyes bright with laughter as Aviyansh showed her something on his phone.
She was glowing.
And not because of him.
For a second, Shivansh just stood there, arms crossed, watching.
Isha looked so at ease there — like she belonged there — teasing, laughing, leaning slightly toward Aviyansh while Ranveer was not in the room maybe getting ready for the meeting.
Something sharp curled in Shivansh's chest.
"Enjoying yourselves?" he asked coolly.
All three heads turned.
Isha's smile widened instantly.
"Oh, you're done bathing?" she said sweetly, as if nothing was wrong.
Ranveer walked back in at that moment, adjusting his cufflinks, immediately sensing the air shift. Aviyansh looked from Shivansh to Isha, then smirked.
"Well, well," Ranveer said, amused. "Look who finally came looking for his wife."
Shivansh shot him a glare. "Why is she here?"
Isha crossed her arms. "Because I want to be."
Aviyansh laughed. "You were in the shower for half an hour, Bhai. We just borrowed her for a few minutes."
"Borrowed," Shivansh repeated flatly. "Like she's some library book."
Ranveer grinned. "Relax. She just likes better company."
"Oh really?" Shivansh said, stepping forward. "Since when do you two provide better company than her husband?"
Isha tilted her head, clearly enjoying this far too much. "Since they don't get jealous over nothing."
That did it.
Shivansh's jaw clenched. "You spend more time with them than with me."
Ranveer raised a brow. "Careful. You're sounding like a clingy boyfriend, not a king."
Aviyansh added innocently, "Should we start scheduling her time? Monday with you, Tuesday with us?"
Isha burst into laughter, leaning back against the headboard, watching the three brothers go at each other like it was the best show in the world.
Shivansh looked at her — really looked.
She was laughing because she knew exactly what she was doing.
"You enjoy watching me burn, don't you?" he said quietly.
Her eyes softened just a little. "Maybe."
That was all it took.
In two strides he was beside her.
He didn't hesitate.
One arm slid behind her back, the other cupped her face, and before either of the brothers could even react, he pulled her into him and kissed her.
It wasn't gentle.
It was possessive. Heated. A silent she's mine wrapped in warmth and need.
Isha gasped softly against him, eyes wide, then slowly melted into it — until she remembered where she was.
When he finally pulled back, her face was flushed, lips parted, breath uneven.
Ranveer let out a low whistle.
"Wow."
Aviyansh laughed. "That escalated."
Shivansh rested his forehead against hers for a brief second, eyes dark, chest rising and falling.
"Mine," he murmured, not to her — but to the room.
Isha looked up at him, cheeks burning, torn between being embarrassed and… something else entirely.
And for the first time since he had walked in, Shivansh felt calm.
She was still his.
Exactly where she belonged.
Isha sat there for a second after that kiss, completely frozen.
Her cheeks were burning. Her lips still tingled. And the worst part?
Ranveer and Aviyansh were grinning like they had just won some invisible competition.
"Happy now?" Ranveer asked Shivansh lazily. "Or should we clap?"
Isha covered her face with both hands. "Oh my God… I hate you all."
Shivansh smiled — that slow, dangerous, satisfied smile — and leaned down to her.
"You loved it."
"I did not," she muttered, not looking at him.
He lifted her chin gently with his finger. "Your face is saying something else."
Before she could reply, a soft knock came at the door.
A palace staff member stood there, trying very hard not to stare at the scene.
"Rana Sa… breakfast is ready. The family is waiting."
Shivansh didn't even blink. "Good."
Then he turned to Isha and, without warning, bent down and scooped her up into his arms.
"Shivansh!" she yelped, clutching his shoulder. "Put me down!"
Ranveer burst out laughing. "There he goes again."
Aviyansh shook his head. "Public display of ownership."
"I can walk!" Isha protested, half laughing, half mortified.
Shivansh adjusted her in his arms as if she weighed nothing. "I know. I just don't want you to."
He kissed her forehead and carried her out of the room.
"I swear," she whispered, hiding her face in his neck, "you do this just to embarrass me."
"Yes," he replied calmly. "And because I like holding you.
The dining hall went silent the moment they walked in.
Every single family member turned to look.
Shivansh's mother smiled knowingly. His grandmother raised an eyebrow. His father folded his arms, amused. Even the staff tried not to laugh.
"Oh ho," his grandmother said. "So this is how the king brings his queen for breakfast."
Isha tried to hide her face again. "Please put me down."
Shivansh finally did — gently — pulling out her chair and helping her sit like she was royalty.
"Drama," she muttered.
He leaned down close to her ear. "Admit it. You liked it."
She kicked his leg lightly under the table.
Ranveer and Aviyansh entered right after, both smirking.
"So," Ranveer said, sitting down. "We were just witnesses to another royal kidnapping."
"It was not kidnapping," Isha said. "It was… unauthorized lifting."
Shivansh smiled proudly. "I have permission."
His chote maa sa laughed. "You two haven't even finished a month of marriage and you already look like this."
"Like what?" Isha asked.
"Like you can't stay apart for five minutes," she replied warmly.
Breakfast was served — fresh parathas, fruits, juice, tea, coffee, and everything royal and homely mixed together.
Shivansh kept serving Isha without even thinking — putting food on her plate, adjusting her chair, handing her juice.
"Are you trying to spoil her?" his father teased.
"I already am," Shivansh replied casually. "It's my job now."
Isha rolled her eyes but smiled.
Aviyansh leaned toward her. "So… do you still want to hang out with us today?"
Shivansh's hand paused mid-air.
Isha grinned wickedly. "Maybe."
Shivansh shot her a look. "Maybe?"
She took a bite of her food. "You did say I get to choose."
Ranveer laughed. "She's going to enjoy making you jealous for the rest of your life."
Shivansh sighed dramatically. "I married a menace."
Isha leaned closer to him and whispered, "A loved menace."
He looked at her, his irritation melting into something soft and deep.
"Unfortunately for you," he said quietly, "I'm hopelessly in love with you."
Her smile softened.
And just like that, amid teasing, laughter, and clinking cups, the palace breakfast felt less like a royal hall and more like home.
The palace slowly slipped back into its usual rhythm after breakfast — calm on the surface, busy underneath.
By late morning, everyone had dispersed, each carrying their own responsibilities like invisible crowns.
Shivansh left first.
He kiss isha on her forehead and adjusted his cufflinks while walking, his phone already pressed to his ear, discussing numbers, mergers, timelines. Ranveer followed him, tablet in hand, already scrolling through restaurant reports and café expansions, while Aviyansh walked between them, jacket slung over his shoulder, teasing them even while preparing for meetings.
"Try not to scare the board members today," Aviyansh said lightly.
Shivansh glanced at him. "They should be scared. It keeps them honest."
Ranveer smirked. "Spoken like a true Rana sa."
Their cars rolled out of the palace gates one after another.
Inside the palace, Shivansh's father and Chhote Papa settled down near the large window, the chessboard placed between them like an old, familiar battlefield.
"You always rush your opening, bhai sa." Chhote Papa said, moving a pawn.
"And you always underestimate mine," Shivansh's father replied calmly.
Across the palace, Shivansh's grandparents walked slowly toward the mandir, his mother beside them, her dupatta neatly placed over her head. The sound of bells, soft prayers, and sandalwood filled the air.
Chhoti Maa had already left for the hospital — a surgery she had been preparing for weeks.
And Isha?
Isha left quietly.
She didn't announce it. She didn't make noise. She simply picked up her bag, kissed Shivansh's mother on the cheek, touched her grandparents' hands respectfully, and walked out.
Shivansh believed she was heading to her CA firm.
He didn't know she was stepping into Domina Global — her world, her empire, her responsibility.
Evening arrived gently.
The palace lights warmed. Conversations softened. Doors opened and closed as people returned, one by one.
Isha arrived first.
She looked tired but peaceful — hair tied loosely, minimal makeup, her posture straight in that way only someone who had handled meetings all day could carry. She placed her bag aside and walked into the living room, where Shivansh's grandparents sat with his mother and Chhoti Maa, deep in conversation.
She smiled softly.
"Do you want tea or coffee?"
Shivansh's mother looked surprised. "Arre, Isha, you don't need to do all this. I'll ask the cook."
Isha shook her head immediately. "No. I want to make it."
Her grandmother-in-law smiled fondly. "Let her. She wants to."
Chhoti Maa nodded. "Yes, beta. Go."
So Isha went into the kitchen.
She moved comfortably, like she already belonged there — boiling water, placing cups, arranging snacks. She made tea carefully, tasting once, adjusting sugar, adding ginger just right.
When Shivansh's father and Chhote Papa entered the living room, she added a few more cups without hesitation.
After some time, she returned with a tray — steaming tea, crackers, biscuits neatly arranged.
She placed it gently on the table.
"Careful, it's hot," she said softly.
They all picked up their cups, conversations resuming easily.
Isha poured herself a glass of orange juice and sat slightly aside, sipping quietly, listening, smiling.
Then Shivansh's mother said suddenly, "It's getting late. The boys should be back."
Almost on cue, footsteps echoed.
Ranveer and Aviyansh entered first — laughing about something, jackets tossed aside.
And then Shivansh walked in.
The moment his eyes found Isha, everything else seemed to pause.
She was mid-sip.
He walked straight to her.
Before she could even register what was happening, he bent down and kissed her.
It wasn't hurried.
It wasn't accidental.
It wasn't hidden.
A soft, lingering peck.
Isha froze.
The juice stopped halfway. Her eyes widened, fingers tightening around the glass.
Shivansh pulled back calmly, like nothing extraordinary had happened, glanced once at the family, and without a word, turned toward the stairs.
"I'll be upstairs," he said casually.
And he left.
Silence.
Pure, stunned silence.
Then someone cleared their throat.
Isha blinked.
Slowly, she looked around.
Ranveer was grinning like he had just witnessed a personal victory.
Aviyansh had his lips pressed together, clearly holding back laughter.
Shivansh's grandparents exchanged amused looks.
His parents smiled — knowingly, warmly.
"Oh ho," Ranveer said. "So this is normal now?"
Aviyansh added, "Morning, afternoon, evening… schedule is fixed."
Isha's face burned.
She stood up so fast her chair scraped slightly.
"I— I need to—" she gestured vaguely, mortified.
And then she ran.
As she climbed the stairs, she could hear them laughing behind her — soft chuckles, teasing remarks, warm affection.
Her heart was racing.
"Mad man," she muttered to herself, pressing her hand to her chest.
And somewhere upstairs, Shivansh smiled, knowing exactly what he had done.
Isha slammed the door shut behind her, her heart still racing — from embarrassment, from shock, from him.
Shivansh was standing near the window, coat already off, sleeves rolled up, looking entirely too calm for someone who had just caused public chaos.
She turned toward him, eyes blazing.
"What was that?" she snapped.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Good evening to you too, Janna. "
"Don't play innocent," she said, marching toward him. "Do you have any idea what you just did downstairs?"
He crossed his arms, leaning back against the table, watching her like she was the most entertaining thing in the room. "I kissed my wife."
"In front of everyone," she hissed. "My juice literally froze in my hand, Shivansh!"
A smile tugged at his lips. Dangerous. Soft. Romantic.
"I noticed," he said. "Cute expression."
Her jaw dropped. "You— you did that on purpose!"
"Of course I did."
She threw her hands in the air. "Are you insane? Your grandparents, your parents, your chote papa and maa, Ranveer bhai sa, Aviyansh—"
"They all know," he interrupted calmly.
"That doesn't mean you—" she stopped mid-sentence when he suddenly stepped closer.
Too close.
Her breath hitched despite herself.
"You ran away," he said softly.
"I was embarrassed!"
"I liked that too."
She pushed his chest lightly. "Stop enjoying my suffering."
He caught her wrist gently before she could pull away. His touch alone changed the air — slow, warm, possessive without being forceful.
"You scold me," he murmured, lowering his head slightly, "but your heartbeat says something else."
"Shivansh," she warned.
He didn't listen.
He leaned in and kissed her again — this time slower, deeper, like he had all the time in the world. Not rushed. Not teasing. Just… him claiming his moment.
She resisted for exactly three seconds.
Then her fingers curled into his shirt.
"See?" he whispered against her lips. "This mood."
She pulled back just enough to glare at him, cheeks flushed. "You're impossible."
"And you still came upstairs," he replied.
She tried to argue, but he kissed her forehead, then her cheek, then her lips again — softer now, almost apologetic.
"I missed you," he said quietly.
That stopped her.
She looked at him, really looked — the tired eyes, the loosened tie, the weight of the day still clinging to him.
"You didn't even ask about my day," she said softly.
He rested his forehead against hers. "I wanted to feel you first."
She laughed despite herself. "You're unbelievable."
"And you love me," he said.
She sighed, defeated, resting her head against his chest. "Sometimes I think you do these things just to see me flustered."
He wrapped his arms around her completely now. "No," he said honestly. "I do them because I want the world to know you're mine."
Her heart softened dangerously.
Downstairs, laughter echoed again.
Upstairs, Isha finally smiled — because no matter how much she scolded him, this madness, this love, this man…
…was hers.
The dining table had never looked this alive.
Plates were being served, silverware clinked softly, aromas of warm food filled the room—and yet, Isha stood frozen at her place, hands clenched at her sides, eyes wide with disbelief.
Because the teasing hadn't stopped.
Not even for a second.
"Ohhh, bhabhi sa," Aviyansh said innocently, leaning back in his chair, "juice froze in your hand, didn't it?"
Ranveer didn't even look up from his plate. "I told you," he added calmly, "shiv has zero shame. Morning, evening—anytime."
Isha slowly turned her head toward them.
Slowly.
Dangerously.
Shivansh, seated beside her, was biting his lip hard, already knowing what was coming. His mother hid a smile behind her napkin. His grandmother watched with sparkling eyes. His father pretended to focus on his food but failed miserably.
Isha inhaled once.
Then she smiled.
Too calm.
"Once you both get married," she said sweetly, placing her hands on the back of the chair, "I will personally turn you wives against you."
Aviyansh paused mid-bite.
Ranveer finally looked up.
"I will make sure your wives kick you both out of your own room every night and let you sleep on the couches in the living room and ya avi don't forget the girl you are hitting on, is my best friend," she continued smoothly, eyes fixed on them, "and trust me—she will listen to me more than you."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Aviyansh slowly put his spoon down.
Ranveer cleared his throat.
Shivansh leaned back, folding his arms, thoroughly enjoying the show.
"Food is getting cold," Ranveer muttered suddenly, staring at his plate like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.
Aviyansh nodded far too fast. "Yes. Very cold."
They both started eating.
Quietly.
Very quietly.
Isha blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Did… did she just win?
The entire table stared at the two grown men who, just minutes ago, were relentless, fearless, professional teasers—and now looked like guilty children caught red-handed.
Shivansh's grandmother burst out laughing first.
"Oh my God," she said, holding her chest, "look at them!"
Shivansh's mother laughed openly now. "Just now they were so brave."
Chhoti Maa shook her head. "One sentence and finished."
Aviyansh glanced up nervously. "Bhabhi sa, I was just joking."
Ranveer added quickly, "Harmless jokes. Family bonding."
Isha raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Continue then."
Both brothers shook their heads in perfect sync.
"No, no," Aviyansh said. "We suddenly remembered… discipline."
The table erupted in laughter.
Shivansh finally leaned toward Isha and whispered, "You scared them."
She shot him a look. "Good."
He smiled proudly.
For a moment, everyone settled into eating again—but the laughter lingered in the air, light and warm. Conversations resumed, jokes were exchanged, stories overlapped.
And Isha noticed something she hadn't before.
This table—once known for quiet, formal dinners—was now noisy, alive, filled with teasing, comfort, and affection.
No stiff silence.
No unspoken rules.
Just family.
Aviyansh cautiously looked up again. "So… dessert?"
Isha smiled sweetly. "After dinner."
He nodded obediently.
Ranveer whispered, "She's dangerous sometimes."
Shivansh heard that and laughed out loud.
Isha shook her head, finally sitting down properly, picking up her spoon. Her cheeks still warmed from earlier embarrassment, but her heart felt light.
The silence that once ruled this dining table had been replaced with laughter.
And somehow, without even trying—
She had become the center of it.
The palace slowly fell into silence.
One by one, doors closed, laughter faded into soft echoes, and the long day finally surrendered to the calm of the night. The corridors dimmed, lamps glowing low, as everyone retreated into their own spaces.
Isha didn't.
She stood alone on the balcony.
The cold marble beneath her feet sent a faint chill through her body, but she didn't move. Her arms rested against the railing as she looked up—at the moon, bright and whole, hanging quietly in the sky.
Her lips curved into a soft smile.
How far they had come.
From awkward beginnings to shared laughter, from silence to teasing, from strangers to… this. A family. A home. Happiness that felt unreal yet deeply real at the same time.
She didn't hear footsteps.
She only felt warmth.
Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, pulling her gently back against a familiar chest. The sudden contrast between the cold night air and his warmth made her inhale softly.
"What are you thinking?" Shivansh asked quietly, his voice low near her ear.
She leaned back into him without hesitation.
"Just… looking at how far we came," she said honestly. "How happy everyone was today. How happy we are."
The wind brushed against her bare arms, and before she could react, she felt fabric settle around her shoulders.
His shawl.
"You're cold," he murmured, adjusting it around her, making sure it covered her properly.
She smiled, her fingers lightly holding the edges. "I didn't even realize."
He rested his chin on her shoulder, tightening his embrace just a little. "Destiny," he said softly. "It brought us here. And it's not done yet."
She turned slightly, enough to look at him.
"And where does it take us next?" she asked.
He didn't answer with words.
Instead, he turned her gently in his arms, their faces inches apart, breath mingling. For a second, they just looked at each other—eyes speaking what words didn't need to.
Then she moved.
Slowly.
Softly.
Her lips brushed against his.
It was tender at first—unhurried, warm, filled with affection. His arms tightened around her waist instinctively, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss just enough to make her heart flutter.
The world faded.
The balcony, the night, the palace—everything disappeared.
Somewhere between kisses and quiet laughter, between stolen breaths and whispered names, they moved—without realizing when or how—back into their room.
The balcony door closed behind them.
Isha lay back against the mattress, the softness beneath her contrasting with the way Shivansh hovered over her, his weight supported on his arms, his face so close she could feel his breath.
Their lips met again.
Longer this time.
Deeper.
His kisses trailed slowly—from her lips to her jaw, lingering there, making her fingers clutch the fabric of his white kurta. When his mouth brushed her neck, she gasped softly, eyes fluttering shut.
"Shivansh…" she whispered, breathless.
He smiled against her skin but stopped—resting his forehead against hers, eyes dark, affectionate, intense.
"Tell me," he murmured and continued "tell me you want this. Tell me you want me." Shivansh murms, his voice rough with westraint.
Isha's breath hitches, her heart hammering against her ribs. There is no hesitation, no doubt. She cups his face, her thumbs brushing over the sharp angles of his jaw.
"I never stopped wanting you, ansh. I need you." Isha whispers, her eyes glistening with raw emotion.
That's all he needs.
She lifted her hand, cupping his face, pulling him back down to her level.
"Don't stop," she said quietly.
That was all it took.
He kissed her again—slow, meaningful, unhurried—pouring everything he felt into that single moment. Time stretched, breaths tangled, hearts racing in the same rhythm.
When she finally tapped his shoulder lightly, breath uneven, he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers, both of them smiling softly, completely lost in each other.
His hand cups her cheek, fingers spreadacross her jaw, thumb brushing along her skin. Meanwhile, her lips part beneath his, hungry now, needing more and he gives it.
The kiss grows.
Slower. Thicker. Hotter.
He explores her mouth with slow strokes of his tongue, coaxing hers into a rhythm that leaves them both breathless. She moans into him- soft, helpless, utterly lost. Her arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him closer as if the distance between their bodies is too much to bear.
His other hand moves, gliding along her bare waist her night suit shirt slip upward, then her back, holding her steady as their mouths stay fused. He kisses her like he is drowning and shebis the air he has been gasping for.
Their bodies shift with the kiss, his weight dipping over hers, her legs brushing along his thighs.
She slides her fingers into his thick hair, tugging lightly and he groans against her lips, that low sound vibrating straight through her chest.
He the breaks the kiss only to trails soft kisses across the corner of her mouth, down to her chin, then back up again-just to hear her breath hitch.
He breaks the kiss only to tug the fabric over her head and also his head too, tossing it somewhere behind. She watches him with wide eyes, flushe cheeks and a racing heart as he drinken the sight of her.
He softly touches her bra claded breasts making her gasp making him smirk. He then looks directly into her eyes while his fingers pulls down the pads of her bra enough where her perky nipples are visible.
She goes to speak but the words melt into a gasp when his mouth closes around her right breast- hot, slow and possessive
His fingers moves towards the swells of her chest, cupping each breast stimulatingly making her moan louder. He twists her right nipple between his fingers just as he starts kissing down her neck which soon turns into sucking.
He grazes her neck with his teeth leaving his claim on her skin. Soon enough, his lips wraps around her left nipple while she throws her head back as pleasure ripple through her veins.
"Ansh.." That's all she is able to utter because the way he is sucking her nipple, giving her no time to think anything else.
"Aah!" She hisses when he playfully bites her nipple but then he takes the othernipple in his mouth. And this time, he keeps of fondling her other breast giving equal pleasure to his janna.
After sucking the nipples for a good amount of time, he starts kissing down her body. But suddenly she holds him by shoulders and gives a small push making him confused.
"My turn..." She whispers making him realize what she means.
So, he lets her take the lead and as soon as his back touch the mattress, she kneels in front of him.
She runs her palms over his chest, slownd sure. His heartbeat escalating fast under h touch. Then, slowly, she reaches for the utton of his trousers.
Their eyes meet.
There is no rush. No fear. Just a quiet understanding, pure and powerful.
He nods once and her fingers work the button loose, easing the fabric down over his hips. He lifts his hips and she carefully removes his trouser and his boxer carefully, never looking away from her.
A moment later, his hands move to her salwar. He slides it down her legs, kissing her knee as he does. She shivers- not from the cold but from the tenderness in his touch.
Now, nothing stands between them.
Nothing but breath and love.
Her fingers wrap around his already hard cock making him groan. She smiles wickedly, finally having him under her mercy while rubbing her thumb on the tip of his cock. She then moves her fingers up and down.
He suddenly stops her and holds onto her waist before putting her on her back as he slides down her body.
He lowers his face near her clothed vagina and puts a small kiss there making her shudder. She puts her hands over her clothed vana, feeling shy as she can feel what he wants to do.
"I want to taste you." He says and looks at her eyes, his own eyes are filled with raw desire which is only she can ignite.
She doesn't reply but removes her hands and that's all he needs. Instantly, he hooks his fingers in the band of her panty and pulls them down gently leaving her fully bare in front of his eyes. He finally comes face to face with the most sensitive part of his Lotus which deserves the most care from him.
He spreads her legs apart while looking at her with a smirk and dips his head down taking her vagina in between his lips again.
He then holds his middle finger between her lips and orders saying...
"Suck."
who casually starts sucking them coating them with her saliva.
He then enters those fingers inside her pussy making her whimper with his sudden move but just as he starts moving his fingers in and out motion, her whimpers turns into moan as she bites her lips to stop herself from screaming.
"Don't fucking stop yourself from screaming, janna! I want to hear you screaming my name when I ram my cock inside your pussy." He growls pinching her nipple which makes her scream loudly.
He adds another finger and keeps on fucking her with his fingers till he feels like she can take his cock.
Still, he opens the drawer of the nightstand and takes a small bottle of lube. He withdraws hisfingers from her heat and sucks them off while looking at her with utmost desire.
"Do you want me to use condom, Baby?" He asks, although he wants to feel her raw. But still, he won't do anything which she isn't comfortable with.
"No, I want to feel you." She replies looking at him as her voice is already hoarse.
He nods his head in response and pours a generous amount of lube over his hard cock. He coats his hardness nicely before lining it with her entrance. He bends down a little, locks his lips with her while she wraps her hands around his neck just as he gives the first thrust. She winces in pain as a tear slide down the side of her face but doesn't stop him. In the second and final thrust, his whole cock enters inside her making her gasp.
"Shh..." He whispers, wiping her tears with his thumb.
"Please move." She says making him takeout his cock a little and then slowly gives a thrust.
He keeps on slowly thrusting inside her core while stimulatingly kissing her on the lips, neck and then sucking her nipples as well. Soon enough, her pain fade away and the raw pleasure take its place.
"It feels so good..." She moans smashing her lips on him as his thrust become faster.
"It's just the start." He says while rubbing her clit with his thumb as throws her left leg over his shoulder.
He looks down, the way his cock going in and out of her pink pussy while she writh under him clutching the bedsheet with her fingers.
"Ansh...I..." She isn't able to finish her words as he takes out his cock out of her pussy and picks her up in his arms making her wrap his legs around his waist.
"It's time to try another position, janna."
He whispers as he walks towards the couch and sits there with her in his arms.
She doesn't need to be told twice. She lifts herself a little and grabs his cock with her hand before sinking down with an ease making him groan because of the tightness of her pussy.
"Let me have my feast while you ride my cock." He says and holds her breasts between his hands while she starts moving in round motion, rolling her hips giving him and her extreme pleasure. On the other hand, he takes her nipple in his mouth and starts sucking like a hungry baby.
"Fuck! This feel so good." She moans throwing her head back as she keeps on riding him while he keeps on having feast on her round breasts.
He slaps her ass in between which makes her scream in pleasure. After sometime,he holds her hips and starts thrusting inside her when he notices that she is trembling. He lies her down on the couch still being inside her and starts roughly pounding in her pussy.
"Do you wanna come, Baby?" He asks as he rubs his thumb over her pussy.
"Y-Yes..." She replies, voice trembling badly.
"Then tell me who you belong to?" He asks speeding his moves.
"Y-Y-You..." She whimpers.
"I didn't hear you." Saying this, he puts both of legs on each of his shoulders and moves faster than before.
"You! I belong to you, Ansh!!" She screams as the pleasure building inside her is too much to handle.
"That's like my good girl. Now, come!" He orders and with a jerk, her orgasm ripple out of her like a storm undone.
She pants heavily while looking at him with hooded eyes.
"Are we done?" She whispers making him smirk.
"Not yet. And I miss you like this so much" With that, he starts thrusting inside her with an inhuman speed making her scream in pleasure.
He spreads her legs wide open, wanting to see how his cock is pounding inside her tight, moist pussy. A growl rumble through his chest as his own pleasure is building too high that he is close to have his own release.
He moves with aching precision, every thrust deep and unhurried as if savoring the way she clings to him- warm, wet and breathtakingly tight. Her legs are spread wide beneath him, drawing him in deeper with each slow roll of his hips. The soft sounds she makes, half gasps and whispered moans, drive him mad with need.
He smashes his lips on her, shoving his tongue inside her mouth wanting to taste her tongue with all his might. Meanwhile, Her nails scrape harshly along his back and her head falls back, exposing the line of her throat that he immediately bends to kiss.
"Ansh.. please!" She whimpers in need.
"What do you need, janna?" He asks speeding his thrusts.
"You. Inside me." And that's all he needs to heat because in the next few seconds he spills inside her with a low growl. She too have another orgasm as she clutches him tightly feeling warm inside her.
Their bodies remain tangled, skin flushed and damp with sweat, hearts racing in the quiet aftermath. He doesn't take out his cock out of her heat, keeping themselves attached like that because that's what they love.
After sometime, he brushes a few stray strands of hair from her flushed face, histhumb tender as it traces her cheek. Her eyes flutter open, lazy and dazed, a sleepy smile tugging at her lips.
He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, then another at the tip of her nose and finally her lips. But this one is slow, full of emotion, nothing like the hunger from before. It lingers, his breath mingling with hers as though he is trying to memorize the way she tastes when she is his and only his.
"I am sorry. I was too rough." He whispers against her lips, voice hoarse, raw with emotion.
She opens her eyes fully, blinking up at him with a sparkle that makes his chest ache.
"No, you can never be too rough with me." She murmurs, running her fingers through the messy strands of his hair.
"I love this side of you, Ansh. The beast you become in bed, the fire in your eyes when you look at me like I am your only obsession. It drives me crazy in all the right ways." She continues. He goes to protest but she silences him with a soft kiss.
"Still, I want to be gentler too. Not just take you like a sex starved man." He says, brushing his nose along her jaw.
"Then be gentler next time we make love. But don't ever tame yourself for me. I want all of you- the softness, the hunger, the tenderness and the wildness." She says, nudging her nose against his, eyes gleaming.
He smiles, feeling happy that she isn't upset with his roughness. Slowly, he leans down again, his lips meeting her collarbone with a reverence that makes her shiver. He kisses along her skin- soft, languid pecks down to her chest, over her heart, his hand caressing her side in lazy strokes.
She sighs, arms circling around him, drawing him close.
"I love you." She whispers.
"I love you too." He murmurs into her skin.
After their passionate union, shivansh becomes the gentle keeper of his jaanna comfort. He lifts her carefully in his arms and carries her to the washroom. Knowing her legs are tired, he avoids the shower and instead settles her into the jacuzzi after filling the giant tub with look warm water mixing bathing salt in it, letting her body soak and relax. He slips in behind her, cradling her against his chest while the jets ease the tension in their muscles. His hands move slowly over her skin, rinsing her with warm water in quiet devotion. There are no words between them, just the peaceful hum of water and the silent language of love flowing through every gentle touch.
He cleans her thoroughly, change the water as well. Once they are done, he helps her out and wraps her in a softtowel, drying her with patient care. He brings her to the sink and supports her as she brushes her teeth, then helps her rinse her mouth with water making sure she is steady on her feet. Only after she is finished does he brush his own teeth, stealing occasional glances at her in the mirror to ensure she is still comfortable. Once done, he carries her back into the bedroom and places her gently on the other couch, making sure she is warm and resting well while he prepares the bed for the night.
With quiet focus, he changes the bedsheet and pillow covers, smoothing out each wrinkle and tucking in every corner with care as if preparing a sacred space. The air slowly fills with the soft scent of lavender and fresh linen with automatic room freshener. Once everything is in place, he brings a small bowl of warm coconut oil and kneels beside her.
His fingers move in slow, soothing circles as he massages the oil on her core- not to ignite passion but to offer comfort and care. Every touch is filled with love, making her feel cherished andseen. When he finally lifts her and places her gently on the freshly made bed, he covers her with a soft blanket and joins her, pulling her close as the room settles into a calm, warm stillness- wrapped in the quiet promise of his unwavering love.
"I miss this, ansh." Isha mumbles sleepily, her voice muffled as she hides her face against his chest while her fingers curling gently around his side.
"I also missed you and this also, janna." Shivansh whispers, brushing his lips over her hair as his hand moves in slow, lazy circles on her bare back.
"Hmm. But I am happy too." She remarks, a small smile forming as she snuggles closer.
"It still feels unreal sometimes that you becomee mine completely. In every way." Shivansh's hand stills for a moment, then rests flat against her back, pressing her a little closer.
"I have always been yours, ansh. Even before we knew what it meant." Isha tilts her head up, eyes half-lidded but gleaming with love.
"But now the world also knows. You are bind with me now and Forever." He leans down, brushing his lips across her forehead.
"Will you love me the same way even when I am old and annoying?" She asks.
"Even when you are wrinkled and grumpy and scolding me for leaving towels on the bed, I will still love you. Probably even more." He chuckles, deep and low.
"You better not leave towels on the bed." She giggles, the sound soft and unguarded.
"I won't. Because you will be there to remind me. Every single day." He whispers, nudging her nose with his.
"Stop being cheesy." Her nose wrinkles ina playful pout.
"But it's true. You own every bit of me." He grins, tapping her nose. She blushes and then gasps, suddenly remembering something important.
"Oh! You have to get me contraceptive pills tomorrow." She says making him dramatically flopping his head back on the pillow.
"I will, I promise. But seriously, we need a permanent solution, janna. I hate using condoms. They are so annoying." He grumbles while she bursts out laughing, her cheeks flushing pink.
"You are talking like we are going to do that daily. "She remarks biting his chin playfully.
"I wouldn't even mind, and now I can't control myself after today." He smirks, pulling her on top of him.
She buries her face into his neck again, her heart full and cheeks hurting from smiling too much. In the warmth of their shared laughter and quiet love, the night feels like a beautiful promise- one full of chaos, kisses and a future they can't wait to build together.
The room was quiet.
Only their breaths filled the space—uneven, warm, shared.
Shivansh lowered himself beside her, not breaking contact, his arm slipping beneath her shoulders, pulling her into him as if the world might take her away if he didn't. Isha turned instinctively, her head finding its place against his chest, her fingers curling into his shirt like it was the only anchor she needed.
He pressed a soft kiss to her hair.
Then another.
Slower.
Deeper.
Each one unspoken but heavy with meaning.
"I waited so long for this," he whispered, voice barely audible, meant only for her.
She tilted her face up, eyes shining in the dim light. "So did I."
Their lips met again—not rushed, not urgent—just… full. Full of everything they had survived, everything they had forgiven, everything they had chosen again and again.
His hand traced slow, calming circles along her back, grounding her, soothing her racing heart. She sighed into him, melting, letting herself be held without fear, without doubt.
The night wrapped around them gently.
And behind closed doors, with the moon watching silently—
They let love take over.
The world outside no longer existed.
The palace.
The crown.
The responsibilities.
For this moment, there was only them.
Only warmth.
Only love.
Shivansh rested his forehead against hers, noses brushing, eyes closed. "Stay," he murmured. "Always."
She smiled softly, her lips curving against his skin. "I already am."
The lamp by the bedside dimmed.
Curtains swayed gently with the night breeze.
And as the moonlight spilled quietly across the room, they disappeared into each other's embrace—where words were no longer needed, where love spoke in touches, in heartbeats, in shared silence.
The night wrapped them in its quiet promise.
And somewhere between whispered breaths and steady hearts—
They let the rest of the world wait till morning.
— Fade to black.
The first thing she noticed was him.
Not the room.
Not the morning light slipping in through the curtains.
Not even the soft warmth of the blanket.
Him.
Isha lay still, half-awake, her lashes fluttering as her gaze slowly focused on the familiar figure beside her. Shivansh was lying on his side, facing her, one arm bent beneath his head, the other resting casually near her waist. His face looked calmer than usual—no sharp edges, no kingly sternness—just… him.
Peaceful.
Unguarded.
For a few seconds, her mind was blank.
She simply stared.
Then suddenly—
Oh.
Last night hit her all at once.
The balcony.
The moon.
His arms around her.
That warmth.
That closeness.
Her cheeks flamed instantly.
"Oh my—" she murmured under her breath and turned sharply to the other side, pulling the blanket up as if it could hide her embarrassment.
Behind her, Shivansh chuckled softly.
Before she could process anything, an arm wrapped around her waist and gently—but firmly—pulled her back. In one smooth motion, he rolled them so she was flat against the mattress again, him hovering over her, holding his weight carefully on his arms.
She blinked up at him, startled.
"What— Shivansh— I was just—"
He smiled.
That slow, devastating smile that always made her forget her own name.
"Good morning, janna," he said softly.
Her heart skipped.
He leaned a little closer, eyes warm, voice lower.
"You know," he continued, "you're looking like the most beautiful human in my entire world right now."
She frowned, still flustered. "I literally just woke up."
"And still," he said easily, brushing his thumb along her cheek, "I woke up feeling like I was resting in heaven."
She stared at him, stunned.
"Even looking at the date today," he added, voice gentle, sincere, "it felt good. Like… today is already perfect."
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
Instead, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.
Then another.
Lingering.
Unhurried.
Then his lips found hers.
It wasn't rushed.
It wasn't hungry.
Just slow, warm, familiar.
A kiss that said we survived everything.
It went on for a while—soft breaths, gentle smiles between kisses—until Isha finally placed both hands on his chest and pushed lightly.
"Okay," she said, sitting up quickly, hair falling around her shoulders. "Enough. I have a meeting."
He raised an eyebrow. "You're abandoning me already?"
She grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. "I'm serious."
He laughed, sitting up beside her. "Funny. I was just about to say the same thing."
She turned to look at him. "You too?"
"Yes," he sighed dramatically. "A very crucial meeting."
Then, as if suddenly remembering something important, he straightened.
"And I need you to pray for me."
She narrowed her eyes playfully. "Why?"
"Because," he said, serious now, "this collaboration is important. Not just for me—for everyone. For the company."
She hummed, already knowing where this was going.
"There's this company," he continued, unaware of the amusement dancing in her eyes. "Domina Global. Based in Italy."
Her lips twitched.
"They started barely four years ago," he went on, pacing slightly now, fully in business mode. "But their growth? Unbelievable. What most companies take decades to build, they did it in years."
She nodded slowly. "Sounds impressive."
"It is," he said. "And the strangest part? Their CEO."
"Oh?" she asked, pretending innocence.
"He never shows his face. Never attends meetings personally. Always sends a PA or a manager. No interviews. No leaks. Nothing."
She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling.
"Sahil told me this morning," Shivansh added, "that they're coming today. To our company."
She tilted her head. "That is important."
"Exactly," he said. "Aviyansh will be with me. Ranveer too."
She looked down, hiding her smile now.
Because she knew.
Every detail.
Every secret.
But she stayed quiet.
Because some surprises were worth waiting for.
Shivansh looked at her, suspicious. "Why are you smiling like that?"
She stood up from the bed casually. "No reason. Just… wishing you luck."
He narrowed his eyes, then shrugged. "Fine. But remember—you're praying for me."
She turned toward the washroom, calling over her shoulder,
"Always."
And as they both began getting ready for the day, unaware of how close destiny was to revealing yet another truth—
The morning carried with it a promise.
The calm before a very interesting storm.
Morning sunlight filtered softly through the tall glass windows, spreading a golden warmth across the dining table. The house, which was usually calm at this hour, buzzed with an unusual energy today—an energy woven with nervous excitement, ambition, and unspoken anticipation.
Breakfast had been laid out grandly, yet barely anyone seemed focused on the food.
Shivansh sat at the head of the table, his posture straight, shoulders squared, but his fingers tapped restlessly against the ceramic edge of his plate. Anyone who didn't know him well would think it was just another day—another meeting, another deal. But the people who did know him noticed the slight tension in his jaw, the way his brows furrowed every few seconds.
Ranveer leaned forward, elbow resting on the table.
"I'm telling you," he said between two bites, "this Domino Global thing is not ordinary. The way they've expanded in just four years? It's not luck. Someone dangerously smart is running that empire."
Aviyansh nodded in agreement.
"Exactly. Four years, international branches, silent ownership, zero media presence. Even the top analysts couldn't trace the CEO. That alone makes this meeting… intimidating."
Shivansh exhaled slowly.
"It's not that I'm afraid," he said, almost defensively. "But this collaboration—if it happens—it changes everything. Not just for us, but for the industry."
Ranveer smirked lightly.
"Which means… you're nervous."
Shivansh shot him a sharp look.
"I don't get nervous."
Aviyansh raised an eyebrow.
"Your leg has been shaking for the last five minutes."
There was a brief pause.
Shivansh leaned back slightly, running a hand through his hair.
"Fine," he admitted quietly. "I'm… cautious. There's a difference."
Across the table, Ishava sat quietly, sipping her tea, her expression calm—almost too calm. Her eyes moved from one face to another, observing the scene like a silent storyteller watching her own story unfold.
If only you knew, she thought.
She watched Shivansh—the man who had dominated boardrooms, who had never once shown hesitation in front of rivals—now discussing documents for the third time, questioning every clause, every possible loophole.
This was new.
This was him, after her.
She smiled faintly.
Just then, Shivansh's mother looked up from her plate, curiosity shining in her eyes.
"What's all this serious discussion so early in the morning?" she asked warmly. "You all haven't even tasted the breakfast."
Before Shivansh could answer, his father spoke, his tone steady and proud.
"Today, the director of Domino Global is coming. They're discussing a potential collaboration."
His mother's eyes widened slightly.
"Domino Global?" she repeated. "Isn't that the company that rose so quickly?"
"Yes," Aviyansh replied. "Unbelievably quickly."
Ranveer added, "And the strangest part? No one has ever seen their CEO. Not in interviews. Not in meetings. It's always their PA or managers."
"That's what makes it impressive," Shivansh said thoughtfully. "Power without noise."
Isha's fingers tightened slightly around her cup.
Power without noise, she repeated in her mind.
How ironic.
She imagined the moment—his face when he would finally realize who stood behind that name, that empire, that silence. Would he be shocked? Speechless? Angry that she hid it?
Or proud?
The thought made her chest tighten.
She was pulled out of her thoughts when shivansh suddenly stood up, walking toward her with a hopeful smile.
Isha stood instantly, shivansh cupping her face gently and kissing her forehead.
Ranveer and Aviyansh exchanged glances before standing up dramatically.
They touched her feet almost in unison.
"isha, " Ranveer said seriously, "you're our Lakshmi. Please bless us too."
Aviyansh added, "Especially today."
Isha laughed, shaking her head.
"Get up, both of you. Stop this drama."
Shivansh watched the scene quietly, a softness settling in his eyes—something the world rarely saw.
"I'll try to come home early," he said to Ishava while standing up. "Pray that this collaboration works."
She met his gaze, her smile calm yet knowing.
"I will."
One by one, the men picked up their files, jackets, and phones, the tension returning as they headed toward the door.
As the sound of cars leaving echoed through the driveway, Isha stood up.
"I also have an important meeting today," she announced casually. "I'll get ready and leave soon."
Everyone nodded, unaware of the storm quietly preparing itself.
She stood in front of the mirror, initially reaching for a formal suit.
That would be appropriate, she thought.
Then she paused.
But today… I'm not just a director. I'm also his wife.
Slowly, she changed her mind.
She chose a white anarkali—simple, elegant, powerful in its grace. Her hair fell softly over her shoulders, minimal jewelry adorning her neck and ears. She looked every bit like a traditional Indian woman—but with an aura of authority that couldn't be ignored.
Her phone buzzed.
"Ma'am," her assistant spoke from the other end, "confirming your meeting with raghuvanshi and co. They're asking when the director will arrive."
"I'll be there in thirty to forty-five minutes," Isha replied calmly.
"Yes, ma'am."
Downstairs, Dadi sa waited for her with a small box.
"Here," she said, holding it out. "Your favourite."
Ishava smiled.
"Kaju katli?"
Dadi da nodded.
"I know you don't like curd or sweet rituals. So this."
"Thank you," Isha said softly, taking a bite.
Moments later, she stepped into the car.
As the vehicle moved toward Shivansh's office—the place where truths would unfold, identities would collide, and destinies would shift—her heart beat steadily.
Not with fear.
But with anticipation.
The office of Raghuvanshi Group was already buzzing.
The kind of buzz that didn't come from phones ringing or keyboards clicking—but from anticipation.
Shivansh stood near the glass wall of the conference floor, sleeves rolled slightly, tie loosened just a bit, eyes fixed on the file in his hand… yet not really reading it.
Ranveer noticed first.
He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, watching his elder brother pace slightly.
"shiv," he said slowly, a smirk playing on his lips, "you've read that same page five times now."
Shivansh didn't look up.
"I'm revising."
Aviyansh raised an eyebrow.
"Revising or overthinking?"
That made Shivansh finally glance at them.
"This collaboration isn't ordinary," he said, voice calm but fingers tightening around the file. "Domina Global doesn't just partner with anyone."
Ranveer chuckled.
"And yet, here you are—acting like it's your first board meeting."
Shivansh exhaled through his nose.
"I've handled billion-dollar deals without blinking. But this…" he paused, then added honestly, "this feels different."
The entire floor of the office was unusually alert that morning.
Shivansh stood near the glass wall of his cabin, blazer perfectly set, expression calm—but his mind was already running numbers, projections, strategies. Aviyansh and Ranveer were seated casually, yet their eyes kept darting toward the main entrance, waiting.
The name Domina Global echoed in everyone's mind.
A company that rose like wildfire.
A CEO no one had ever seen.
A director whose identity was a mystery.
And today, they were finally here.
Just then, Shivansh's phone buzzed.
He glanced at the screen.
PA – Sahil
He answered immediately.
"Sir," Sahil's voice came slightly breathless, "Rani sa has arrived. She's handing over her car keys downstairs. Should I escort her to your cabin or the conference room?"
Shivansh frowned—just slightly.
Janna?
Before he could reply, Aviyansh straightened up, suddenly alert.
"Wait," Aviyansh said slowly, narrowing his eyes. "You said… bhabhi sq?"
"Yes," Sahil confirmed. "She said she has a meeting."
Ranveer chuckled lightly. "Everyone has a meeting today."
But Shivansh felt something shift.
"She's coming inside?" Shivansh asked.
"Yes, sir. Right now."
Aviyansh stood up instantly. "Guys," he said with sudden excitement, "this is her first time here, right?"
Ranveer blinked. "Who?"
Avyansh smirked. "Bhabhi sa."
Shivansh turned sharply. "Aviyansh."
But Avyansh was already grinning. "Maa sa welcomed her at the palace. Why shouldn't we do the same here? She's Lakshmi for this office too."
Ranveer immediately nodded. "Agreed."
Shivansh hesitated for half a second—then sighed. "Fine. Quickly."
Within moments, the staff arranged everything. The red liquid, the cloth, the small diya from the office mandir.
Aviyansh rushed downstairs.
Downstairs — The Lobby
The glass doors slid open.
And she walked in.
Isha.
Dressed in a pristine white anarkali, minimal jewelry, calm confidence in her steps—the kind that didn't demand attention, yet commanded it.
The receptionist straightened instinctively.
Before Isha could take another step, Aviyansh appeared in front of her like a wall.
She stopped, confused.
"…Aviyansh?"
He smiled nervously.
"Bhabhi sa. One minute."
She tilted her head.
"Did something happen?"
"Something good," he corrected quickly. "Very good. Just—don't go ahead."
Isha looked past him, amused.
"Why do I feel like I walked into a conspiracy?"
Aviyansh laughed.
"No conspiracy. Just Tradition."
Before she could question further, Shivansh, Ranveer, and a few senior staff members came forward.
Shivansh's gaze met hers.
For a second, everything else faded.
He walked toward her, voice softer than usual.
"This is your first time here."
Isha nodded.
"Yes."
Shivansh gestured to the thali.
"Then you'll enter this place the way you should."
Realization dawned on her face.
Her eyes widened slightly.
"…Here?"
Ranveer smiled warmly.
"You're the Lakshmi of this office too, bachhe."
Isha's throat tightened.
She looked at Shivansh again.
"You planned this?"
He shook his head lightly.
"They insisted," he said, then added quietly, "but I wanted it."
Silence.
Emotion sat heavy in her chest.
Aviyansh placed the white cloth carefully on the floor and dipped her feet gently into the red alta.
"Bhabhi sa, aap toh ghar ki Lakshmi hain hi, lekin saath hi saath hamase office ki bhi Lakshmi hain. Padhariye, hamare office mein bhi Lakshmi bangar!" he said respectfully.
Isha closed her eyes for a brief second.
Then stepped forward.
One footprint.
Then another.
Red against white.
A beginning.
The staff folded their hands.
"Swagat hai, Rani sa."
Shivansh felt something loosen inside his chest.
This—
this—was what home felt like.
They all entered together in the shivansh cabin.
Shivansh was about to gesture toward his chair when Isha calmly walked ahead and sat down—on his chair.
Silence.
Aviyansh's mouth fell open.
Ranveer's smile vanished
Shivansh stiffened.
She crossed her legs elegantly, resting her hands on the armrest, completely at ease.
Shivansh stepped closer, voice low.
"Isha… what's going on?"
She looked up at him, confused.
"You called me here, didn't you?"
He blinked. "I… what?"
"I have a meeting," she said simply.
Ranveer frowned. "With whom?"
Before she could answer, Sahil entered again.
"Sir," he said nervously, "Domina Global's assistant manager is here."
The air snapped.
Shivansh turned sharply. "Send them in."
The doors opened.
Two executives walked in, professional, serious.
They looked around—then asked calmly,
"Where is your director?"
Everyone exchanged confused glances.
Before anyone could answer—
Isha stood up.
Slowly.
Gracefully.
Every eye followed her.
She smiled—soft, composed, deadly calm.
"Oh," she said lightly, "I didn't introduce myself?"
She extended her hand.
"Hello, gentlemen. I'm Isha Maheshwarii."
Pause.
"I am the Director and CEO of Domina Global."
The room shattered into silence.
Shivansh's head snapped toward her so fast it felt like his neck might break.
Aviyansh froze.
Ranveer stared.
Sahil's file slipped from his hands.
"What—" Shivansh whispered. "You…?"
She continued, voice steady.
"I built Domina Global from scratch. Italy was our foundation. we operate worldwide."
She glanced at Shivansh—briefly.
"And yes," she added, "I'm here for the collaboration. With you."
The executives nodded respectfully.
"How…?" Ranveer muttered.
"When?" Aviyansh asked softly.
Shivansh's voice was barely audible.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
She looked at her watch.
A pause.
Then she smiled—that smile that always undid him.
"I wanted to surprise you."
She turned toward the conference room.
"But that discussion can wait."
She gestured politely.
"Shall we begin the meeting, gentlemen?"
They cleared their throats.
"Yes… yes, of course."
As she walked ahead, Shivansh followed—unable to stop looking at her.
She wasn't just his wife anymore.
She was his oppositor.
His equal.
And somehow—
Still the woman who ruled his heart.
The conference room doors closed with a muted click.
Glass walls. Polished wood. A long table that had seen decades of authority.
Yet today—
the air felt different.
Isha walked in first.
Not hurried.
Not hesitant.
She took the central chair—not because it was Shivansh's place, but because it was where decisions were made.
Shivansh paused for half a second before sitting beside her.
That half-second said everything.
The executives of Domina Global settled across the table. Files opened. Tablets lit up.
Silence followed.
Isha broke it.
"Let's begin," she said calmly. "Time is valuable."
Her tone wasn't commanding.
It didn't need to be.
One of the executives began, "Domina Global believes this collaboration can redefine—"
Isha raised a hand gently.
"Before projections," she said, "clarity."
She turned to Shivansh, her eyes meeting his—not challenging, just steady.
"Your company's strength lies in legacy, trust, and reach," she said. "But your expansion speed is limited by internal restructuring."
Ranveer stiffened slightly.
Aviyansh leaned forward.
Shivansh didn't interrupt.
Inside, something twisted—not discomfort, but admiration so sharp it hurt.
She sees it, he thought.
She understands before asking.
Isha continued, now addressing everyone.
"Domina doesn't offer capital alone. We offer systems. We scale without breaking foundations."
She clicked the remote.
Graphs filled the screen.
Margins. Growth curves. Risk buffers.
The room went quiet.
One of Shivansh's senior directors whispered, "These projections…"
Isha nodded. "Achievable. Already tested in three markets."
Shivansh finally spoke.
"And the control?" he asked, voice even. "You don't believe in passive partnerships."
She turned to him.
A faint smile.
"I believe in equal leadership," she replied. "Which is why Domina doesn't dominate—it collaborates."
Something in his chest loosened.
She isn't here to overpower, he realized.
She's here to build.
The Domina executive added, "Our CEO personally oversees all high-stake alliances."
Aviyansh glanced between them.
Ranveer exhaled slowly.
Shivansh leaned back slightly, eyes never leaving Isha.
This is the woman who once asked me if her dreams were too big, he thought.
And now—she's setting the room on fire without raising her voice.
The meeting progressed.
Questions were raised.
Isha answered—precise, patient, sharp.
When a concern surfaced about risk exposure, she didn't dismiss it.
She acknowledged it.
"Valid concern," she said. "Which is why contingency A and B already exist."
She slid a file across the table.
Shivansh picked it up.
His fingers paused.
She prepared this before coming here, he realized.
For us.
Not for dominance.
For partnership.
For him.
I've led armies, he thought.
But she—she leads hearts.
He squeezed her hand once.
Not as a king.
Not as a businessman.
But as a man deeply, irrevocably proud of the woman beside him.
And for the first time in his life—
Shivansh realized power didn't intimidate him.
Especially when it wore her name.
The meeting ended with quiet certainty.
Hands were shaken.
Agreements verbally sealed.
The meeting finally came to an end.
The conference room that had been filled with intense discussions, projections, figures, and awe-struck silence slowly returned to normal. Chairs shifted. Files were closed.
Assistants stepped back respectfully, still sneaking glances at the woman who had just owned the room without raising her voice even once.
"I'll be taking my leave now," Isha said calmly, checking the time on her watch as she stood up. Her posture was relaxed, composed—like she hadn't just shaken one of the biggest business empires in Jaipur.
"Ansh, I'm leaving."
Her voice was soft, but it echoed inside Shivansh's chest.
Before he could respond, ranveer cleared his throat deliberately, standing up.
"Well," he said with a grin, looking around, "I think you two should talk. Alone."
Aviyansh nodded instantly. "Yes. We'll handle the rest here."
Sahil didn't even try to hide his smile. "We'll make sure no one disturbs."
Isha looked at them, confused for a second—then understanding dawned. She opened her mouth to protest, but Shivansh was faster.
" why so hurry janna, first let's do something then we will go to get, I'll walk you to our cabin," he said, already moving toward her.
The door closed behind them, shutting out the world.
The moment they stepped into the quieter corridor, Shivansh stopped walking.
Isha turned to look at him. "What is it?"
He didn't answer immediately. His eyes were fixed on her—really fixed this time. Not the CEO. Not the director. Not the woman who dominated boardrooms.
Her.
The same girl who once sat beside him, annoyed, stubborn, quietly hurt by his words.
"You didn't tell me," he said finally, his voice low.
She tilted her head slightly. "I wanted to surprise you."
He let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair. "Isha… do you have any idea what you just did in there?"
She smiled faintly. "Attended a meeting?"
"No," he said, stepping closer. "You rewrote every assumption I ever had."
Her smile faltered. "Shivansh—"
"I watched them," he interrupted gently. "CEOs who don't flinch for anyone. Men who've ruled industries for decades." His eyes softened. "And they were listening to you. Respecting you."
She looked down instinctively, embarrassed.
He lifted her chin with two fingers. "Don't."
Their eyes met.
"You built Domina Global," he continued, voice thick with emotion. "In another country. From scratch. While I was busy building what I inherited… you created something that's yours."
Her breath hitched.
"And the worst part?" His jaw tightened. "A part of me keeps wondering—how much of this… happened because of me?"
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
He laughed softly, but there was no humor in it. "The things I said. The way I made you feel like you had to prove something."
Isha's voice dropped to a whisper. "I didn't do it to prove myself to you."
He shook his head. "Maybe not consciously. But I know I hurt you."
Silence wrapped around them.
Then she stepped closer and placed her hand over his chest.
"I did this because I believed in myself," she said firmly. "And yes… maybe a part of me wanted you to see me. But don't turn my success into your guilt."
His eyes glistened.
"I'm proud of you," he said hoarsely. "So proud that it scares me."
Before she could respond, his hand slid around her waist, pulling her closer.
She gasped softly. "Shivansh—"
"Shh," he murmured, forehead resting against hers. "Just… let me feel this."
They stayed like that for a moment—two powerful souls stripped of titles.
Then Isha pulled back slightly, a teasing glint in her eyes.
"You know," she said casually, "for someone so intense, you're actually quite boring."
His eyebrows shot up. "Boring?"
She nodded, biting back a smile. "Very."
A slow smirk curved his lips.
"Wait," he said, voice dropping. "Let me show you how boring I am."
Before she could react, he lifted her effortlessly, her gasp turning into laughter as she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Shivansh!" she scolded, cheeks flushed. "Put me down!"
He leaned in, whispering against her ear, "Not happening."
Then he kissed her—slow, deep, unhurried. Not desperate. Not rushed. Just full of everything he hadn't said.
When he pulled back, she was breathless.
"This," he said softly, "is me being boring."
She shook her head, smiling despite herself. "You're impossible."
"And you," he replied, brushing his thumb over her cheek, "are extraordinary."
For the first time since the meeting began, Shivansh felt it fully—not pressure, not power.
Just pride. Love. And peace.
And for a while longer, the world could wait.
Isha walked into the office lobby, her heels clicking softly against the polished marble floor. She had expected the usual bustle of the office—the assistants shuffling papers, the hum of computers—but instead, she felt a peculiar stillness. All eyes were on her. Everyone. And not the polite, professional curiosity she was used to. These were looks of disbelief, of awe, and a hint of fear.
She stopped, her brow furrowing. "Why… why is everyone staring at me?" she asked softly, almost to herself.
That's when she noticed him.
Shivansh.
The CEO, the ruthless business king of Jaipur, the man whose name alone could make rivals tremble. Her lover. Her husband. And right now, inexplicably, he was behind her, holding the hem of her dupatta with one hand, following her like a loyal shadow, his dark eyes sweeping the lobby with that dangerous, calculating calm that made everyone else step back slightly.
"Isha," he murmured, low, almost possessive. "Walk slowly. Let them see."
Her lips curved into a faint smile. Of course, she thought. He couldn't just let me exit like a normal guest. He had to make a statement.
And indeed, he did. Every person in the lobby—board members, assistants, even security—looked at them both as though a storm had just walked through. Shivansh's presence alone demanded attention, but the sight of him following her so deliberately, holding her dupatta, elevated the moment into something almost cinematic.
Isha didn't flinch. Instead, she walked with calm grace, shoulders back, chin high. She allowed Shivansh to lead the silent symphony of shocked gasps and stares.
The drive home was quiet. Shivansh didn't speak much—just the occasional instruction to the driver—but the tension between them wasn't uncomfortable. It was intimate, charged, an unspoken acknowledgment of everything they had shared, everything they had accomplished separately, and yet together.
When they finally arrived at the house, the doors opened to a chorus of delighted and astonished voices.
"isha beta!" his chote maa cried, rushing forward. "You're back!"
"Look at her!" his grand father exclaimed. "She is our daughter-in-law!"
"Yes," Shivansh said quietly, his arm brushing hers slightly, as though claiming her in front of everyone. "She is my wife."
Isha glanced around. Faces were lit with pride, joy, and yes… a tiny shade of surprise that she hadn't hired her way into this family—because after all, she had been silently building her empire for five years. It was impressive, and yet it hadn't been for show. She had done it all on her own.
"And she's the one we were talking about this morning at breakfast?" his father whispered, almost in awe.
"Yes," Shivansh confirmed. "She built her company from scratch. Domina Global. And now it's not just India—it's global."
Everyone's eyes widened. A hush fell for a moment, then soft murmurs of admiration began spreading through the room.
Isha felt her chest tighten. The warmth of their pride, the acknowledgment of her efforts—it made her feel both powerful and loved. She turned slightly toward his parents, hoping to see their reactions, but her gaze found only faint surprise. There was no way to convey everything yet. They didn't know the full scope of her work, and she had to save that for a better moment.
Dinner was arranged with meticulous care, chosen especially for her. The table groaned under the weight of her favorites: butter paneer, dal makhani, butter naan, jeera rice, and sweet gulab jamuns for dessert. Even the presentation spoke of thoughtfulness—the family wanted her to feel welcomed, cherished, celebrated.
Isha took her seat, smiling as Shivansh subtly brushed against her hand under the table.
"Everything looks… amazing," she said softly, tasting a bite of paneer.
Shivansh's gaze was steady on her. "It should. You deserve nothing less."
During dinner, casual conversation flowed, but the undercurrent was clear: everyone wanted to know more about this woman who had so effortlessly conquered the business world, yet remained humble, warm, and approachable.
"And when we were talking this morning," his chote papa asked hesitantly, "the one you mentioned—Domina Global… she's the CEO?"
"Yes," Shivansh said, eyes on Isha. "The very same. And she's my wife."
There was silence. Then, slowly, the family erupted into joy again—teasing her gently, praising her achievements, and most importantly, showing that they were proud. Shivansh's parents exchanged glances, pride shining in their eyes, while the older ones nodded in approval.
Even the subtle disappointment they felt earlier—uncertainty about how this marriage came to be—faded in the warmth of the moment.
After dinner, the family moved into the garden. A slight chill of late winter hung in the air, but the warmth of the gathering and the flicker of the outdoor lamps made it feel cozy. Ice creams were passed around, laughter filled the night, and for a while, the world outside seemed to fade away.
Isha sat beside Shivansh, leaning into him as he wrapped a shawl around her shoulders. "I can't believe this," she whispered softly.
"Believe it," he murmured, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "This is your world now. And yes… mine, too."
She looked at him, and for a moment, all the weight of the past five years—the struggles, the silent battles, the ambitions, the quiet victories—settled between them. They didn't need words. He understood. She understood. And somewhere deep down, Shivansh felt that sting of guilt—not for her achievements, but for his past arrogance, for the moments he had made her doubt herself.
"Isha," he said finally, voice low, almost reverent, "you… built this world without me, and I… I was just here."
She smiled softly. "But you're here now. And that's what matters."
He pulled her slightly closer, and in the quiet of the winter night, surrounded by the people who finally saw and celebrated her, Shivansh allowed himself to admit—just to himself—that he had never been prouder of anyone in his life.
And Isha… she let herself rest in that pride, feeling the love, the joy, and the sense of home she had longed for without even realizing it.
The garden was alive with soft laughter and the gentle clinking of spoons against dessert bowls. Fairy lights glowed faintly among the trees, casting a warm golden hue over the palace lawn. The winter breeze brushed past them, cool yet comforting, as everyone sat together, wrapped in shawls, savoring both the dessert and the moment.
Isha sat beside Shivansh, her fingers curled around the bowl in her lap, but her eyes kept scanning the garden unconsciously.
Something felt… missing.
She leaned slightly toward Meera Maa, Shivansh's mother, her voice gentle but curious.
"Maa sa," she asked softly, "where is Ranveer bhai sa? I haven't seen him since I came back from the office. He didn't even join us for dinner."
Meera Maa smiled faintly, as if she had been expecting the question.
"Oh, Ranveer came back with Aviyansh earlier," she replied calmly. "But then he received a call and went out again. Didn't say much—just that it was important."
Isha nodded slowly. "Oh… okay."
She leaned back again, though her curiosity lingered. Ranveer missing dinner was rare. Ranveer disappearing without a word was rarer.
The conversation around them returned to normal—light teasing, laughter, comments about the cold setting in early this year. Desserts were passed around again. Someone joked about how the silence of the dining table earlier had now transformed into nonstop chatter.
And then—
The sound of a car engine broke through the night.
Everyone's attention instinctively shifted toward the palace entrance. Headlights cut through the darkness as a sleek black car rolled in and came to a stop right in front of the main doors.
Isha straightened slightly. "That must be Ranveer bhai sa," she murmured.
The driver's door opened.
Ranveer stepped out.
To be continue in next part....