Abhimanyu entered the room after a long conversation with Aavyan, his mind still preoccupied with the chaos Ekansh had left behind before flying off to France. He let out a deep sigh, the weight of responsibility pressing heavily on his shoulders. Handling Ekansh was like chasing the wind-unpredictable and impossible to grasp. With a shake of his head, Abhimanyu stepped inside, his gaze immediately falling on his wife, asleep on the bed. She looked peaceful, almost delicate, like a fragile soul lost in her dreams. But appearances could be deceiving-if she was awake and in the middle of an argument, her sharp wit could disarm even the most determined opponent. The thought brought a faint chuckle to his lips, softening the tension in his chest.
He moved to the sleek wooden desk by the window, where the dim light of a table lamp illuminated a stack of files. Among them lay the folder containing the details of their perfume brand-a project that demanded his undivided attention. Abhimanyu sat down, flipping through the papers with practiced ease. His brows furrowed as he read, the gravity of the situation sinking in.
Ekansh, with his impulsive decisions, had fired their top-tier perfumer and chemist without warning. These were not just employees-they were the backbone of the brand, the ones who could turn concepts into reality. Without them, the launch of their latest perfume was at risk, and if the launch failed, the ripple effect would jeopardize their most ambitious project yet. This perfume wasn't just a product; it was a statement meant to captivate dealers before their major meeting-a strategic first step in securing their attention and trust.
Time wasn't on their side. Abhimanyu had already instructed Aavyan to handle the reappointment of the fired employees by morning. There was no room for delays or second-guessing. His focus returned to the files as he reviewed every detail meticulously, searching for any overlooked angle or contingency. The weight of responsibility pressed against his temples, but giving up wasn't an option.
After what felt like hours, he finally leaned back in his chair, closing the files and placing them neatly on the desk. His hand lingered on the papers for a moment, his gaze drifting back to his wife. The sight of her peaceful form filled him with a rare calm, a fleeting reminder of why he pushed through every challenge. But tonight, there was no rest for him-not until this mess was fixed.
Abhimanyu lay down on his side of the bed, his gaze naturally falling on Misha. She was curled up peacefully, her chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. A few stray strands of her hair had fallen across her face, framing her serene expression. The sight tugged at something deep within him, a mix of tenderness and quiet admiration.
He reached out slowly, his fingers hovering just for a moment, as if afraid to disturb her tranquility. With the lightest touch, he tucked the strands behind her ear, his movements so delicate it was as though he feared even the faintest shift would wake her. The warmth of her skin under his fingertips lingered, and a soft smile appeared on his lips.
As he adjusted the blanket over her shoulders, ensuring she was cocooned in warmth, he took a moment to take in her peaceful face, feeling a rare sense of calm wash over him. Turning onto his back, Abhimanyu let out a quiet sigh, his eyes tracing the faint patterns on the ceiling. The weight of the day's troubles seemed to ease just a little, and with that, he closed his eyes, letting sleep finally take him.
It was past midnight when Misha, who had been hugging Abhimanyu in her sleep, shifted slightly, pressing her face closer into his chest. Her soft breaths were steady, but soon, she began to stir, her body wiggling restlessly. Her peaceful expression melted into one of distress as her brows furrowed and worry lines etched onto her face. She clutched the bedsheet tightly, and beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. Her breathing grew heavy, almost ragged, as though she were trapped in a nightmare.
With a sudden jolt, Misha sat up, gasping for air as if she had been drowning. The abrupt movement startled Abhimanyu, who was a light sleeper. His eyes blinked open, adjusting to the dim light of the room, and he immediately noticed her tense posture. She sat upright, her back rigid, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
"Misha....." Abhimanyu called softly, his voice laced with rare gentleness. She turned to him at the sound of his voice, her trembling lips parting as she gulped. Her tear-filled eyes scanned his face, her hands lifting hesitantly, stopping inches from touching him, as if she needed to confirm he was real.
"What happened?" Abhimanyu asked, his brows drawing together in concern. Her frightened demeanor and the sweat on her face alarmed him.
"You..... you.....Abhi....." Misha stammered, her voice trembling as her eyes overflowed with tears.
"What? Did you.....?" Abhimanyu started to ask but was cut off as Misha suddenly lunged forward, wrapping her arms tightly around him. The force of her embrace caught him off guard. For a moment, he sat stiff, confused by her sudden action, but her quivering body and the way she clung to him melted away his hesitation. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer as his hand instinctively began rubbing her back in soothing circles.
"Misha, what happened? Did you had a nightmare?" he asked softly, his voice gentle as he tried to calm her. Misha buried her face in the crook of his neck, her tears wetting his skin. He felt a strange current shoot through his veins at her proximity, but he was too focused on her fear to linger on the foreign sensation.
Misha gave a small nod, her face still pressed into his neck, her fingers clutching at his shirt as if afraid he might vanish.
"It's alright," Abhimanyu murmured, his hand moving up to gently cradle the back of her head. "It was just a nightmare. Nothing to worry about."
She stayed like that, clinging to him as if her life depended on it. When her trembling subsided slightly, Abhimanyu leaned back, carefully making her sit upright. He cupped her face, his thumbs gently wiping away her tears.
"Hey, why are you crying? It's just a nightmare," he said, his tone softer now, though worry still clouded his expression. "There's no need to cry, Misha. You're safe."
"It was so scary, Abhi," Misha said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I felt like..... like I would die if it were real. Even now, it feels so real." Misha gulped down as her hands were shaking.
Abhimanyu frowned as he studied her face, wondering what kind of dream could frighten her so much. She was usually fearless, always standing her ground, yet now she looked so vulnerable.
"Abhimanyu" she said hesitantly, her voice trembling again. "Can I ask you something?"
"Go ahead, ask whatever you want if it makes you calm" he replied with a faint smile, though his concern deepened.
"Can you..... can you not go to the office tomorrow?" she asked, her wide, pleading eyes locking onto his. There was desperation in her gaze, as if her very life depended on his answer.
"Please," she interrupted, her voice trembling. "Just for one day. I can't bear to be alone tomorrow..... Please, Abhi." Abhimanyu sighed at her request.
Abhimanyu frowned slightly, surprised by her request. "Misha, I have-" he cutted off by her again.
"Please," she interrupted, her tone almost begging. "Just for tomorrow, don't go."
Abhimanyu sighed, his eyes flickering between her pale face and trembling hands. After a moment, he relented. "Alright. I won't go," he said, his tone calm but edged with curiosity.
A small, relieved smile spread across her lips as she hugged him again, her arms wrapping tightly around his torso. Abhimanyu's chest tightened, an unfamiliar feeling stirring within him, but he shoved it aside.
"Sleep now," he said softly, his voice turning colder to mask his own confusion. Misha pulled away, lying down again, and as she settled into the bed, he added with a teasing smirk, "I can't believe Mrs. Rathore, who gives nightmares to her opponents in arguments, is crying over one."
Misha froze mid-movement, glaring at him with narrowed eyes.
"Alright, alright, no need to start an argument over this." he chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. She huffed but eventually lay down, turning her back to him.
Abhimanyu lay down as well, staring at the ceiling. Sleep evaded him as his mind replayed the moment she had clung to him, her vulnerability catching him off guard. But before he could delve deeper into his thoughts, he felt an arms arm snake around his waist as she hugged him in her sleep.
Letting out a sigh, he placed his hand gently on her shoulder, his fingers brushing through her hair. The tension eased from his body as he felt her warmth against him, and slowly, he drifted off to sleep, his mind still lingering on the strange mix of emotions she had stirred in him.
The early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. Abhimanyu stirred awake and instinctively glanced at the clock. It was just five in the morning. He turned his head to see Misha, her face serene and peaceful in her sleep. For a moment, his mind wandered back to the events of the night before. Her vulnerability, the fear in her eyes, and her desperate plea for him to stay tugged at something deep within him-something he wasn't ready to confront.
Sighing, he pushed himself out of bed, trying to shake off the unease that had settled over him. He changed into his workout gear and headed to the gym. For an hour, he worked through his usual routine, each lift and stretch meant to clear his mind. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts kept drifting back to her.
When he returned to the room, Misha was still asleep. Her small frame curled slightly, and the faint rise and fall of her chest gave her an almost childlike innocence. Abhimanyu forget at the sight, a mix of emotions he couldn't name stirring within him. He walked into the bathroom and got ready for the day, donning his usual formal attire. When he emerged from the closet, he found her still in the same position, fast asleep.
"Must be exhausted," he muttered under his breath, recalling her restless state the night before. A wave of guilt flickered through him. She had asked him to stay, and against his better judgment, he had agreed. But now, as he sat on the sofa flipping through a magazine, he felt the weight of his decision. He wasn't the type to take a day off, especially for something as trivial as a nightmare. So why had he?
The shrill ring of his phone pulled him from his thoughts. He frowned as he answered, stepping out onto the balcony for privacy. On the other end was the perfume brand manager, informing him about an urgent meeting with recently rehired employees. Abhimanyu's brows furrowed deeper as the call dragged on. By the time he hung up, frustration was etched across his face.
"Damn it," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. The meeting was important, crucial even. And yet, here he was, torn between his responsibility and his promise to Misha. He stepped back into the room, his gaze immediately drawn to her. She hadn't stirred, her face still soft in slumber. For a moment, he simply stood there, his jaw tightening as a storm of conflicting emotions brewed within him.
"This isn't me," he murmured under his breath, with frown. "Since when did I start putting her needs over my own? Since when did I start... caring?" Abhimanyu thoughts trailed off his care and concern for her over this all day's.
The thought unsettled him. He clenched his fists, memories from his past creeping in like unwelcome shadows. Don't forget what you told yourself, Abhimanyu. You don't get attached. You don't let anyone in. And certainly not her. His thoughts determined his decisions.
His resolve hardened as he straightened his posture. "Office is important," he muttered to himself. "No more of this nonsense. Keep your distance. This..... this is dangerous."with sigh.
He walked into the closet and quickly changed into another set of formal attire, his movements brisk and deliberate. Yet, as he prepared to leave, his eyes drifted back to her one last time. She looked so fragile, so different from the sharp-tongued woman he had married. His chest tightened unexpectedly, but he quickly pushed the feeling aside.
"This doesn't mean anything," he whispered to himself, his tone cold and detached. "It's better this way."he got determined.
Without another word, he turned on his heel and left the room, the door clicking shut behind him. But as he walked down the hallway, the image of her sleeping face lingered in his mind, and for reasons he couldn't explain, it haunted him the entire way to the office.
Isha stood in front of her mirror, mumbling under her breath as she fastened her earrings. Dadi Ma had insisted she go shopping for her engagement dress today-with none other than her so-called fiancé. She rolled her eyes at the thought, her irritation bubbling to the surface.
"Why me?" she muttered, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "First, this marriage was rushed so fast I barely had time to think. I said yes instead of no-what was I even thinking? Now look at me, stuck in this mess." She huffed at that thought.
She glanced at the clock and let out a small laugh, shaking her head.
"Late. Of course, I'm late. Why wouldn't I be?" she mused, adjusting her dupatta. "At this rate, I'll be at least half an hour late." She said with causal tone.
She gave herself one last look in the mirror, sighing deeply before grabbing her bag. Walking out of the house, she slid into her car, her thoughts already spiraling as they usually did. As the vehicle pulled out onto the street, Isha checked her phone for the time-not that she cared much. The notification screen flashed back at her, and she sighed again, leaning back into her seat.
"Why couldn't I be as clever as Ishani?" she grumbled, the irritation clear in her voice. "She came up with a perfect excuse to dodge this whole shopping trip with her fiancé, claiming some 'important work.' And me? I agreed without thinking. My brain and my mouth clearly don't work together." , Isha sighed at herself.
She crossed her arms and frowned, her annoyance now aimed at her sister. "Just wait, Ishani. Your turn is coming. You might have gotten away today, but tomorrow? Tomorrow, it's your time to suffer. Oh, how I'll tease you, dear sister." Her tone was filled with mischief.
Isha's eyes sparkled with mischief at the thought, though her expression quickly fell back into boredom. She huffed, imagining Ishani's smug face teasing her earlier. "You escaped today, but not forever. Tomorrow, it's my turn to laugh." Isha said with determination in her words.
The car slowed as it approached the mall, the sight of the large glass entrance coming into view. Isha sighed heavily as the car came to a stop. She stepped out, smoothing down her outfit, her face a mixture of resignation and disinterest.
Looking around the bustling parking lot, she muttered under her breath, "Here we go. Let's get this over with." She sighed with bored expression.
She squared her shoulders and walked toward the entrance, dreading the encounter that awaited her inside.
Isha stepped inside the bustling mall, her movements confident but with a faint hint of nervousness. She came to an abrupt halt when her gaze fell on him-Aditya. He stood a little distance away, tall and composed, his white formal shirt fitting him perfectly, the sleeves rolled up just enough to give him an effortless charm. His trousers were sharply tailored, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. The air around him carried an undeniable authority, yet his expression was distant, those cold eyes piercing through the crowd as if searching for someone.
For a moment, Isha's heart skipped a beat. She had met him only once before, but how could someone be so unforgettable? Shaking off the thought, she squared her shoulders and walked toward him. As she stood in front of him, Aditya slowly raised a brow, his sharp gaze settling on her as if assessing her from head to toe.
"You're late," he said, his voice deep and crisp, laced with disapproval. He pulled one hand out of his pocket to glance at his watch. "Almost half an hour late."
Isha crossed her arms, her lips curving into a small smirk. "Late? Negative. I am never late, Mr. Fiance. The plan officially begins when I arrive."
Her boldness caught him off guard. Aditya's eyes narrowed slightly, studying her with an unreadable expression, but she was unfazed. She tilted her head and let out an exaggerated sigh.
"Don't stare too much, okay? I know I'm pretty. It's okay, you're my fiancé, after all-you're allowed to look at me. In fact," she added with a playful hair flip, "you're lucky enough to look at me for your entire life. You must feel so blessed."
Aditya blinked, genuinely stunned for a moment. She was bold-unapologetically so-and it was something he didn't encounter often. For the first time, he found himself at a loss for words. Was it confidence or just pure audacity? Either way, it was annoyingly... endearing.
"Are you going to keep standing there or what?" she quipped, raising a brow as she placed a hand on her hip. "We need to shop quickly. Unlike you, I have a life outside of this."
Aditya's lips twitched as if suppressing a smile, but his face remained composed. "After you," he said, gesturing toward the store entrance with a small nod.
With a proud tilt of her chin, Isha turned and walked ahead, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor. Aditya followed a few steps behind, his hands slipping back into his pockets as he let out a quiet sigh. She was unlike anyone he'd ever met, and somehow, he wasn't entirely sure if that was a good thing-or a dangerous one.
Isha and Aditya stepped into the brightly lit store, her eyes immediately scanning the rows of dresses. Aditya walked beside her, his hands casually tucked into his pockets as he observed her every move. He noticed how her expressions shifted with each dress she picked up-ranging from excitement to doubt and then to frustration.
After a few minutes of internal debate, Isha finally selected two dresses but now found herself at a crossroads, unable to decide between them. She held both up, biting her lip in thought. Her face scrunched in concentration as she took a few steps back, analyzing the options.
Aditya, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, watched her silently. His sharp gaze moved between the dresses and the myriad expressions flitting across her face. Isha turned suddenly, catching him off guard as their eyes locked. She stared at him for a moment, noting how effortlessly handsome he looked. The fitted white shirt emphasized his broad shoulders, and his sleeves were rolled up just enough to reveal his strong forearms. His dark eyes, calm and intense, were fixed on her with a raised eyebrow.
"I know I'm handsome, so stop staring," Adithya said dryly, straightening from his relaxed pose. "We have a lifetime for that." he said, his voice laced with dry humor as he stood up straight.
Isha blinked, her cheeks flushing as she tore her gaze away. "I wasn't staring!" she defended hastily, brushing a strand of hair from her face to compose herself. "I was just going to ask you to pick one of these. It's your engagement too, not just mine." Isha said trying not get caught.
He nodded curtly, his expression unreadable. "Alright, show me." He walked in fornt of her.
Isha huffed, holding up both dresses. "Which one? I can't decide; they're both great." Isha said with confusion.
Adithya took a step closer, his sharp gaze moving between the dresses and her. "Give me a minute to decide. Stay still," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. Isha's mouth opened to retort but snapped shut under his piercing glare. She stood quietly, watching as he assessed each dress with a seriousness that almost made her laugh.
"This one," he said finally, pointing to a dress in simple yet elegance layed at right side. His voice was calm, but there was an unspoken confidence in his choice. "It'll look great on you... I mean, it suits you." Adithya said clearing his thoart.
Isha sighed dramatically and turned to the staff. "This one," she said, pointing to the opposite dress which layed on left side. The staff nodded and moved to pack it.
Adithya blinked, a look of disbelief crossing his face. "Why did you even bother asking me if you were just going to choose the opposite one?" he asked, his voice laced with dry humor.
"Because I wanted to," Isha replied with a shrug. "And, for the record, your opinion helped me realize which one was better." Isha smile at him with a shrug.
Adithya shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He followed her as they headed to the men's section. Once there, he quickly selected two suits and turned to find Isha leaning against a pillar, her expression bored.
"Since your choices are apparently 'greater,' why don't you pick one for me?" Adithya asked, his tone teasing as he gestured toward the suits.
Isha rolled her eyes. "Fine. And for the record, my choices aren't just better-they're the best." Isha said with confident and Adithya smirked knowing how to let that go down.
With that, she walked over, examined the suits briefly, and pointed to the one on the right. "This one." Isha sighed as chose the right side layed suit.
Adithya turned to the staff. "I'll take the left one" he said casually, motioning to the left suit.
Isha's mouth fell open in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? Why even ask for my opinion if you weren't going to take it? Is this revenge for earlier?" she asked, her voice tinged with irritation.
Adithya glanced at her, the faintest hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "Your choice is great..... for you. Mine is greater for me," he said, his tone smug.
Isha's temper flared. "This shopping trip is done. I'm leaving," she snapped, spinning on her heel and walking toward the exit, muttering angrily to herself.
Adithya sighed, handing instructions to the staff to pack both suits before following her. He walked at his usual pace, a few steps behind her, watching her tense back. Her irritation was obvious, and it amused him more than he cared to admit. A chuckle escaped him as he saw her storm off, muttering curses under her breath.
As they exited the mall, Isha's foot twisted on the steps. She let out a small yelp as she lost her balance, her angry expression giving way to one of fear. She closed her eyes, bracing for the fall, but it never came. A firm arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back to safety.
Adithya's breath hitched as he steadied her, his heart pounding faintly from the sudden movement. His hand tightened on her waist instinctively as he looked down at her. Isha slowly opened her eyes, her gaze locking with his. For a moment, the world around them seemed to blur. His sharp eyes softened as they studied her face, and she felt a strange warmth bloom in her chest.
When reality snapped back, Adithya released her, stepping back as if the moment had never happened. Isha regained her footing, looking down awkwardly before quickly masking her emotions with a glare.
"You're not a great partner for shopping, you know," she said, crossing her arms in annoyance.
Adithya arched a brow. "Am I?" Adithya expression one of smug as he acted confused.
"Yes, you are," she retorted, her irritation clear. Without another word, she turned and marched toward her car.
Adithya shook his head, amused. As he took a step, he noticed her dupatta caught on his sleeve. "Your dupatta," he called, holding it up.
"Keep it," Isha snapped, pulling it off and thrusting it into his hand before walking away. Adithya stood there, staring at the fabric in his hand, his expression a mix of disbelief and amusement.
"Unbelievable," he muttered to himself, shaking his head as he walked to his car.
Aditya stared at the dupatta in disbelief before letting out a soft sigh. He shook his head, clutching the fabric as he walked toward his car. Moments later, Isha walked towards her car, her frustration still simmering as she muttered angrily to herself. Aditya leaned back in his seat, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he started his car.
Isha, meanwhile, climbed into her car with a huff, slamming the door shut. She gripped the steering wheel, muttering angrily under her breath about infuriating fiancés. As both their cars drove away, neither of them could ignore the faint smile tugging at their lips, hidden from the world.
Ishani sat quietly in the backseat of her car, her eyes fixed on the passing scenery as it rushed by. Her heart felt heavy, and the suffocating weight of the day's events pressed down on her chest. The car was heading toward the imposing Khurana mansion, where she was to meet him. A sharp sigh escaped her lips, and she leaned back against the plush seat. Today had been exhausting-mentally and emotionally.
She had barely managed to escape the suffocating situation at home. Her Dadi Ma had insisted she go shopping with her fiancé for their upcoming engagement, but the very thought of spending the day with him left a bitter taste in her mouth. Ishani couldn't stand the idea of playing the role of the dutiful bride-to-be, smiling and nodding along as if everything was perfect. It wasn't. It never had been.
The truth was, she hadn't agreed to this marriage out of love or even choice. It was her Bade Papa's wish-a wish she couldn't refuse. For him, she had swallowed her pride and agreed, even though every fiber of her being rebelled against it. She despised them all, but she couldn't let her feelings interfere with the intricate plans she had been crafting for months. A small smirk tugged at the corners of her lips as she thought about her sister, Isha. Poor Isha, she mused.
Before leaving, Ishani had mercilessly teased her younger sister, leaving Isha red-faced and frustrated. "Have fun with your prince charming," she had quipped with mock sweetness. The memory of Isha's irritated expression made her chuckle softly to herself now. Isha hated the shopping trip as much as she did, though she had reluctantly agreed to go with her own fiancé. Normally, Isha loved shopping and would eagerly bounce from store to store, but today was different. Ishani could sense her sister's reluctance, and it amused her to no end.
"I hope she survives," Ishani muttered under her breath, shaking her head in amusement. Glancing at her phone, she checked the time and realized they were already nearing their destination. Her laughter faded, replaced by a deep sigh as she looked out the window. The Khurana mansion loomed ahead, grand and imposing, its gates opening to welcome her arrival.
As the car came to a smooth stop, Ishani squared her shoulders and stepped out, her heels clicking against the gravel driveway. The cold November air bit at her skin, but she barely noticed. Her gaze remained fixed on the grand entrance of the mansion. It was just another day of playing her part, of enduring the charade. Steeling herself, she began her walk toward the entrance, her head held high and her expression unreadable. Inside, her mind was already calculating her next move.
Ishani stepped into the grand Khurana mansion, her sharp eyes taking in the elaborate decor and cold atmosphere. The staff directed her to the hall and politely asked her to wait. She gave a curt nod and sat down on one of the lavish sofas, her posture straight and poised, betraying none of the turmoil inside her.
As the silence stretched, her patience wore thin. She was about to pull out her phone when a voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Look who we have here-Miss Ishani Rathore," came the smooth, mocking tone of Mr. Khurana.
Ishaniâs head snapped up, her eyes narrowing as she spotted him descending the grand staircase. He carried himself with the same air of authority and smugness that always made her skin crawl. As he approached, she rose from her seat, her cold gaze locking onto his.
"What do you want to talk about? Why did you call me here?" she asked, her tone frosty and devoid of warmth.
Mr. Khurana sighed, his lips curving into a faint smile that didnât reach his eyes. "I should be asking you, Ishani. Have you forgotten your revenge?" he asked, his voice low and laced with accusation.
Her jaw tightened, and her glare sharpened like a blade. "I would never," she spat, her voice colder than ice.
"Can I believe that?" Mr. Khurana questioned with a mocking laugh, his eyes glinting with skepticism.
Ishaniâs lips curled into a bitter smile. "You donât need to. Whether you believe me or not is irrelevant to me," she retorted, her tone laced with venom. "And donât worry about my revenge. Itâs none of your concern."
She took a step closer, her piercing gaze boring into his. "They killed my parents, and I will ruin their entire family for it. You can rest easy knowing I havenât forgotten," she said, her voice steady and resolute.
Mr. Khuranaâs smirk faltered for a moment before he straightened himself. "And yet, it seems youâve forgotten something, Miss Rathore," he countered, his tone biting.
"I havenât seen you so much as touch one of my brothers." Isha countered him back with smirk.
A mocking smirk tugged at Ishaniâs lips. "Perhaps you should worry about your own failures, Mr. Khurana. If youâve been unable to make a move against them, thatâs your problem-not mine," she shot back, her voice dripping with scorn.
His fists clenched at her words, his teeth grinding as he struggled to keep his composure.
"Letâs not argue about this," he said finally, his tone cold but distant. "We both have our reasons for revenge, and thatâs what matters."
Ishani exhaled sharply, crossing her arms. "Then why did you call me here?" she asked, her voice tinged with irritation.
"I wanted to discuss where we stand with our plan," Mr. Khurana replied, his demeanor shifting to a more serious tone. "Did you collect the file we discussed?"
"Theyâre still working on the paperwork for that project," she explained coolly. "Once itâs ready, Iâll get it. Everyoneâs too busy to notice anything suspicious right now."
Mr. Khurana nodded, his sharp eyes studying her as they went over the finer points of their plan. After several minutes of discussion, Ishani rose to leave. She had no desire to linger any longer in his presence.
As she walked toward the door, his voice called out again. "Congratulations on your engagement, Miss Rathore. Donât let your happy little world with your dear future husband distract you from our plan," he said with a mocking chuckle.
Ishani stopped in her tracks and turned, her glare icy enough to freeze the air between them. "Donât forget that Iâm a Rathore. Stay out of my personal life, or you might lose yours," she said in a calm but deadly tone.
Her words hung in the air like a warning as she turned and strode out of the mansion without a backward glance. Mr. Khurana watched her go, his expression darkening with hatred. Ishani climbed into her car, her mind already shifting back to her next steps as the vehicle pulled away, leaving the Khurana mansion behind her.
All of you
Had some problem while publishing.
What to do you think about Ishani, what will be her next move?
What you all think about Isha and Adithya.
And about Abhiamnyu?, well he is a jerk
(Abhimanyu to author: Watch your mouth Miss Author.)
Aavyan Rathore from last chapter
(He is so hot, indeed. We understand you Tara Roy, we understand you)
Have a Great day