"Please, have your seat," Dhruvika said, her tone polite and professional, as she gestured toward the chairs in her meeting hall.

Samesh gave her a warm nod and sat down, followed by Avyan and Agastya. Ikshita trailed in last, her jaw already clenched tight, eyes burning into the back of Dhruvika's head. Her stare was sharp, unblinking-almost seething.

The meeting had gone well-too well. The presentation had been flawless, the collaboration pitch smooth and beneficial. Everything looked clean, sharp, and meticulously prepared.

Too perfect.

And that only made Ikshita's blood boil more.

Stepping into Dhruvika's cabin now was like stepping back into the haunting memory she'd been trying to scream into everyone's ears for days. Her nails dug into her palm as she glanced around the room-the very room where she'd seen him. Him. Stepping out of Dhruvika's private washroom, lips swollen, shirt creased, body marked.

She swallowed the bile rising in her throat.

"Please sit," Dhruvika repeated, this time addressing Ikshita directly with a polite smile.

Ikshita sat, stiffly, her eyes refusing to blink.

Dhruvika picked up the phone and ordered, "Harsh, bring in coffee for the guests."

"The presentation was very impressive," Samesh said with a smile, taking a sip of water.

"Thank you, uncle. Actually, he's one of the top industrial designers based in Europe. He'd been hoping to collaborate with Indian company for a while now, and when I mentioned the Rawal group, he was thrilled," Dhruvika replied calmly.

"Brilliant," Samesh said with clear pride in his eyes. "I'm glad we came. This is promising."

But Ikshita couldn't hold it in anymore. She shifted in her seat. Her voice was rising in her throat like pressure behind a dam.

She looked around-everyone else was drinking coffee, calm, as if nothing had happened.

As if they hadn't seen what she had seen. May be they hadn't.

Then Harsh entered, stepping in hesitantly. "Ma'am, someone is here..."

"I'm in a meeting, Harsh," Dhruvika said without looking.

"It's the lawyer, ma'am. Mr. Sinha..."

"Ah," she stood up, "Uncle, I'll just be a moment."

Samesh raised an eyebrow. "Is it about the divorce?"

Dhruvika gave a practiced hesitant smile. "Yes... some formalities. You know how messy paperwork gets."

"Of course, dear. Go ahead."

She walked out, calm and composed.

But Ikshita's rage broke through.

"She's lying."

Samesh turned slowly. "What?"

"I said she's lying!" Ikshita hissed, standing up. "It's all fake. The lawyer, the files, the calm behavior-none of it's real. She's acting. Playing all of you."

"Ikshita..." Avyan started.

"I came here .. this room," she snapped, voice cracking. "I saw Ranveer. I saw him with her. He didn't even look at me. Do you know how that feels? And now she's here-pretending like it's all professional and clean?"

"calm down," Samesh said, a warning edge to his voice. "This is a business meeting-"

"Exactly!" she shouted, glaring at him. "Then why is her divorce lawyer magically showing up at the exact time we're here? You really think that's coincidence?"

"Our meeting was delayed. Perhaps he was scheduled before us," Samesh said dryly.

"She's manipulating all of you!" Ikshita screamed. "She's clever! She's always ten steps ahead! You think she's just working here? She's controlling everything! Every move! Every face she makes is rehearsed!"

Avyan looked away, conflicted. Agastya didn't even lift his gaze. That hurt the most.

Samesh sighed. " Avyan I know a good psychiatrist. I'll book an appointment for your sister."

"What-? Are you serious?! You think I'm the one going insane?" she laughed bitterly. "You're all blind!"

"I think you need help," Samesh said coldly. "You're obsessed. With a servant. With a man who never belonged to you."

Everyone got shocked

"What... your mother told me everything and she is absolutely right" he spoke.

"You know You are sounding foolish "

Samesh's jaw tightened. "And you sound delusional."

"You want to talk delusion?" she snarled. "The real delusion is thinking you can win against her by playing by her rules."

"Ikshita!" Avyan called sharply. "Enough!"

But she was already storming out the cabin, their shocked faces behind her. Her heels echoed in the hallway as she made her way straight toward Dhruvika's office.

The lawyer had just handed over a file when Ikshita reached the doorway. With no warning, she shoved Dhruvika hard.

Dhruvika stumbled slightly but caught herself against the desk. Harsh immediately went to draw the gun from his back holster-but Dhruvika raised a hand subtly, stopping him.

Everyone rushed in behind her-Samesh, Avyan, Agastya-eyes wide.

"Just drop the act, you manipulative witch!" Ikshita shouted. "Stop pretending! You want me to go crazy, right? That's what you're doing? Making me look insane in front of them? Smiling like you're clean while you destroy everything silently!"

Dhruvika straightened herself . Her face unreadable.

"Excuse me?" she asked, voice calm, measured.

"I KNOW what you're doing! You planned this whole thing. Didn't you? What your intentions? Speak up!"

Samesh stepped forward. "Enough!"

"No! You all need to hear this!" Ikshita screamed, turning to them. "She's hiding him. Using him. Playing the weak girl one second, then ruling over his mind the next! That man follows her like a shadow, not because he wants to-because she's twisted him into needing her."

She turned back to Dhruvika, voice trembling.

"Why are you doing this? What are you trying to prove?  You took everything! So why this game?"

Dhruvika stepped closer, eyes cold as ice, but tone still calm.

"miss oberoi... I don't know what exactly you're implying," she said

Ikshita's breath hitched. Her hands shook with helpless rage.

"You've fooled them," she spoke "But not me. Never me. I know what you are."

"Just tell ...What are you trying to do?" Ikshita screamed, her voice trembling not from fear, but from fury. Her chest was heaving, her fists clenched tight.

"You already had him. You made sure I saw that. You didn't even try to hide it! You let me walk in and see what you've done-how you've got him wrapped around your fingers like a puppet. And now you stand here, acting like you don't even know what I'm talking about?" she asked like a mad... repeatedly

Dhruvika's expression didn't flicker. Not a twitch of muscle, not a single rise in her brow. Her voice was silk, dangerously calm.

"I'm afraid I still don't understand what you're trying to say, Miss Oberoi."

"Don't you dare play dumb with me!" Ikshita spat, pointing a trembling finger at her. "You manipulative witch-you snatched him from me! You're pretending to be so noble, so clean, but all this... all this is your game! This fake divorce, this lawyer, your calm face-it's all calculated..isnt is?."

"I don't snatch people," Dhruvika replied, folding her hands in front of her. "It's not in my nature. I don't need to. I occupy what's already mine. And as for Ranveer, let me remind you-I was supposed to marry Agastya. But he left me at the altar. Publicly. And I had to marry someone-anyone-to save my reputation, which I earned through years of struggle and sacrifice."

Her voice didn't rise, but it cut like glass.

Ikshita laughed-a hollow, bitter sound. "Oh, so now it's a coincidence that you ended up with him? The man who's been working for royal like a servant, who never looked at another soul? And now, suddenly, he's yours?"

"I didn't plan any of this," Dhruvika said coolly. "I simply chose to live with dignity. What happened after that is not my fault."

"Dignity?" Ikshita barked out another laugh. "What kind of woman lets a man whom she is divorcing...whom she got married just to save her reputation, touch her like that... marks her like that... unless she owns him? Don't pretend like it's innocent. I saw him. I saw you. That emotionless, empty shell of a man... he cared for you. He touched you like-like-"

"That's a very serious accusation Miss oberoi...i would suggest to consider youe words" she said coldly before adding"And If you're struggling with personal emotions, I suggest you don't bring them into my office."

"Stop lying!" Ikshita screeched, her voice cracking under the weight of her desperation. "You're putting on this act, making me look crazy in front of them. But you're the liar. You're the manipulator. You twisted everything! He was mine-he was ours-he belonged to this family-"

"Enough" Dhruvika interrupted, voice like cold steel, "I don't appreciate dramatics. I'm entertaining this nonsense only out of respect for Samesh uncle. But I assure you, if you continue screaming in my cabin, I will call security."

"Cut the crap!" Ikshita screamed. "Spill the truth. Just say it! Say you've been with him. Say he's yours. Say everything you're hiding behind this polished face!"

"Ikshita!" Samesh's voice thundered behind her. "That's enough!"

Avyan quickly stepped forward, grabbing his sister by the arm. She struggled, tried to yank herself free, but he held her tightly.

"Let me go, Bhai!" she shouted. "Let me make her say the truth! You know she's playing us! You just don't want to admit it!"

"Control yourself, Ikshita," Avyan hissed, his face flushed in embarrassment. "You're not making any sense-"

"Of course not!" she snapped. "Because she's the one making all the sense to everyone! She's got you all wrapped up like fools!"

"Enough!" Samesh said again, more coldly this time.

Dhruvika stepped away from the desk slowly and turned to them all with practiced calm. "Uncle, I'm sorry," she said. "I really don't think this kind of behavior belongs in a professional environment. I'm here to do business, not entertain personal vendettas."

Samesh looked at her, and for a moment, there was a flicker of guilt-or maybe shame-in his eyes.

"I agree," he said finally. "This is unacceptable. Avyan, take your sister out."

"I don't want her in this project," Dhruvika added, her voice sharp now, cold and clipped. "I don't tolerate drama in my business."

Samesh gave a stiff nod. He didn't argue. He didn't defend Ikshita.

That silence spoke louder than any insult.

Avyan pulled Ikshita back with more force this time as she thrashed in his grip.

"You're all blind!" she screamed. "You'll regret trusting her! You'll regret siding with a woman who's turned your servant into a puppet!"

She looked one last time at Dhruvika-who hadn't flinched once-and hissed through her teeth, "This isn't over."

Dhruvika didn't respond.

Like nothing had happened.

And Ikshita's screams echoed down the hall like a storm no one bothered to prepare for.

She was just looking at them with her cold eyes.

"Ironed - done. ID proof - done. Pen - in place. File - triple-checked..."

Dhruvika's voice trailed in a whisper as she moved around the room like a whirlwind of quiet urgency. Her hands fluttered over each item - carefully inspecting, rechecking, and adjusting them for the fifth time.

Tomorrow was important.

It was his first day at Willson Co.

His first step into a world that had once felt completely out of reach.

And even though the role of Managing Director sounded grand and powerful - to Dhruvika, it was more than just a title.

It was hope.

It was healing.

It was a small piece of the life Ranveer deserved - and the life she wanted to help him reclaim.

She bent to check his shoes again, straightened the folds of his ironed shirt, and carefully aligned his ID card beside the pen.

Behind her, sitting quietly on the edge of the bed, Ranveer watched.

He didn't say anything. Not a word. But his eyes followed her every movement - silently.

His hands were still in his lap, fingers loosely interlaced, as he observed the way she moved. With such intensity. Such care. As if she was the one starting work tomorrow.

She didn't notice his gaze at first. She was too focused on brushing an invisible speck of dust off the file.

Only when she turned to reach for the pen again did she realize he was staring.

She paused, eyes meeting his across the soft warmth of the room.

He didn't blink.

Didn't look away.

Just looked at her - as if quietly committing the image to memory.

She tilted her head slightly, confused. "What?"

He didn't answer.

Just kept watching.

Then, after a few seconds, he stood up, walked toward her, and gently reached for her hand.

"It's late," he said softly. Just that.

He didn't need to say more.

She sighed , lacing her fingers through his. "You're right."

He led her back to the mattress. They lay down side by side in the quiet, the lamp now dimmed.

She shifted closer, curling into his side like she always did. Her hand rested lightly on his chest, feeling the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing.

His arm moved, almost instinctively, around her waist. Then his fingers slowly slid into her hair - stroking gently, like he'd seen her do to herself on the nights she couldn't sleep.

They lay there like that for a long moment, breathing in sync, wrapped in warmth and silence.

Then she whispered, her words barely brushing the air:

"I'm happy."

He didn't speak.

But she felt the way his arm subtly tightened around her waist.

"You're going to shine," she said quietly, placing a soft kiss on his collarbone ..on the mark made by her at their very first meeting. "Mark my words."

Still no reply. But his hold tightened

But she didn't expect one.

Because in his silence, she'd learned to hear everything he couldn't say.

And tonight, his silence told her something she hadn't heard in a long time:

He felt lighter.

Because everything he is doing ... is for her. Just for her.

If she's happy, then it's all worth it.

The morning sun spilled softly into the room, golden light dancing over the floor as Dhruvika stood in front of him, adjusting his tie with practiced fingers. Her brows were slightly furrowed in concentration, yet her eyes held nothing but warmth.

"Don't be nervous, okay?" she said gently, smoothing out the fabric over his shirt. "Just be yourself... You're more than you think you are."

Her voice was quiet, but certain. The kind of certainty only someone who believed in him could hold.

Ranveer looked down at her, saying nothing at first. His nod was small - almost imperceptible - but it was there. A subtle gesture of acknowledgment. Of trust.

Even so, his eyes couldn't hide the shadow of uncertainty still lingering beneath.

She noticed.

"And," she added, placing her hands on her hips, "please finish your lunch today. No skipping. I'm not going to tolerate an empty stomach on your first day as Managing Director."

Before he could respond, she picked up his coat and helped him slip into it, her fingers adjusting the shoulders, tugging gently at the sleeves to straighten them.

"I'll come pick you up in the evening," she said, already buttoning the cuffs for him.

He glanced at her.

"Dhruvi, I should take my bike," he said quietly, unsure.

She didn't even look up. "Nope. Not happening."

"But-"

"I said no," she repeated, voice firm but affectionate. "I want to drop and pick up my husband. Remember my bucket list?" she added, raising an eyebrow.

He blinked at her. He did remember. Once, in passing, she had whispered that dream of hers - to drop her husband off for his first day of work like in the films, like in those perfect little moments people thought only existed in dreams. But she believed in turning them real.

He sighed softly, accepting defeat.

She left the room briefly and returned a moment later with a small bowl in her hand - curd mixed with sugar. The traditional Indian good-luck ritual. She walked up to him with a little proud smile.

"Here," she said, holding up a spoonful. "All the very best."

He obediently took the bite, eyes never leaving her. Then, just as he swallowed, she leaned up and kissed his cheek gently.

For a man who didn't believe in good luck, that moment did something deeper than belief.

It grounded him.

It warmed something within.

He wasn't sure how the day would go - but he was sure it would feel lighter.

Not because of the curd.

But because of her.

As she walked away to return the bowl, she tossed over her shoulder, "And remember, if someone flirts with you - you tell them you're very much married."

She turned, narrowing her eyes as she met his gaze.

Ranveer blinked in amusement. He didn't think anyone would look at him twice - no one ever had. Not when he had nothing - not when he was invisible. Except...

Ikshita.

A flash of memory stung his chest. He shook his head almost immediately. Not now. He wouldn't let old shadows dim this morning.

Instead, he leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on Dhruvika's forehead.

She smiled up at him, the kind of smile that could push back every darkness he ever knew.

"Here," she said, handing him the folder of documents. "ID proof, appointment letter, all set."

He took them carefully.

"Oh, and tell them we're going to update all your documents soon - properly. Name, address, everything."

He nodded once.

She picked up her dupatta, draped it across her shoulder, and walked beside him as they stepped out together.

He took the driver's seat. She didn't argue - he always drove. She just sat beside him, watching the way he held the wheel. Not tightly, not loosely. Just... still. That same quiet control that hid all his trembles.

When they reached Willson Co., he parked the car outside the tall glass building that reflected the morning sun like a mirror.

Ranveer stepped out and came around to open the passenger door. Dhruvika got out with quiet elegance, brushing her hair back as she looked at the imposing office.

"You've got this," she said softly, handing him his bag.

She straightened the collar of his coat and patted his shoulder.

"Bring some healthy drink from the cafeteria and have it in the office, okay?" she added, . "No black coffee on an empty stomach."

He nodded again, lips slightly parted as if to say something - but nothing came.

She reached up and kissed both his cheeks, cupping his jaw like he was still her unsure boy and not the man about to step into an executive role.

"All the best," she whispered.

He turned to leave, walking toward the front entrance of the building.

But halfway there, something made him stop.

He looked back.

And there she stood, waiting, arms folded, eyes sparkling with pride and mischief - and a grin stretched wide across her face as she gave him a little wave.

His eyes softened.

It wasn't much.

But it was everything.

The room was dim, shadows crawling across the floor as the overhead light flickered softly above them. A digital board lit up the far wall, displaying a grainy image of an old man seated in what appeared to be a luxurious club lounge. Blurred figures and swirling smoke surrounded him, but his profile was unmistakable.

"He's here," Maharsh announced, his voice low but laced with triumph. "Our plan worked. All the gangs have started arriving for the auction... and that bastard showed up with them."

He stepped aside, allowing everyone a clearer view of the man in the picture. The tension in the room thickened instantly.

"Finally," Vidyut muttered, his jaw tight, eyes blazing with a dangerous mix of hatred and long-contained fury. "The old hag walked right into our trap."

Dhruvika didn't speak immediately. Her eyes were trained on the screen, arms folded across her chest, body still as a blade moments before a strike. Her expression gave nothing away, but the silence that followed her stare was colder than ice.

Her voice finally cut through the air-controlled, precise, and steely. "If he's here," she said slowly, "he's not alone. A man like him doesn't breathe in unfamiliar territory without backup. He's brought someone. At least one of them. Possibly more. And we still don't know which gang he's with-or worse-how deep he is in the structure. He might be a pawn... or he might be the king."

"I tried tracing the sniper," Maharsh added, stepping forward. "But no success yet. Whoever trained him did a damn good job of covering tracks. No insignia, no gang-specific markers. Could be from any gang as half of the Mafia are enemy of volkovs."

Dhruvika's jaw clenched visibly. Her eyes darkened. "If that bastard hadn't taken him that night..."

"or If we'd managed to infiltrate the core of those mafia gangs ," Vidyut interrupted sharply, his voice cutting, filled with frustration. "We might've had him already."

"We can't afford to think that way," Yashwant interjected, his tone calm yet resolute. "We've discussed this. Engaging directly is dangerous...it's suicide. We're not just risking ourselves. Every single person connected to us, every insider, every pawn we've planted... they'll burn. In race of solving past we can't mess our present"

A heavy silence dropped in the room.

He was right.

They can't involve directly. It will reveal their identity.

"And no reckless..... think before you do anything" he added

One reckless move, and it wouldn't just be their operation that would collapse. Years of planning, false identities, covert alliances, data leaks-all of it could fall apart in seconds.

On the long steel table in front of them lay strewn files, encrypted devices, scattered photographs, and half-drunk mugs of black coffee. The overhead lights flickered again, casting elongated shadows across the table like ghosts of decisions they could no longer take back.

Everyone in that room had a reason to burn the world down. But none of them had the luxury to do it.

Maharsh finally broke the silence, his voice softer but determined. "I've already locked onto his trail. I placed a soft tracer in the club's system via the network. Facial recognition algorithms are being run through every airport, highway surveillance system, and cross-border entry database. This time, I won't let him disappear into the shadows. This time, we go back only with blood-or detailed intel."

Yashwant gave a curt nod, fingers tapping rhythmically on the table as his mind calculated timelines. "Good. But don't get comfortable. He's already suspicious about V2. And we don't know what that sniper had told him before we caught him. For all we know, the enemy already has fragments of our truth."

"That can't happen," Dhruvika said instantly, her voice firmer now. "We've erased every trace, cleaned every file. No one could possibly link us to V2. It's impossible."

"Never underestimate your enemy," Yashwant replied. His gaze settled on her with quiet authority. "Assume he knows. It keeps you alert. Recklessness is our only real enemy now."

There were subtle nods around the room. A silent agreement.

They were close. Too close to fail.

"Be careful," Yashwant added, his tone softer now, almost like a warning to his own children. "We're almost there."

The tension loosened slightly as they returned to work. For the next half hour, they poured over every detail-emergency escape routes, backup identities, blackout zones, and surveillance dead spots. Each contingency was checked, double-checked. Every device on the table had its purpose. Every word spoken had weight.

Plans were falling into place-but so was danger.

As the final map was rolled out, Dhruvika glanced toward Yashwant and asked . "I need your chopper tomorrow."

He didn't hesitate. "Okay."

From across the table, Vidyut raised an eyebrow. "You know, you should really get your own by now. Might save you some breath."

Dhruvika turned toward him with the hint of a smirk curling at her lips. "I wasn't asking you. Was I?"

Vidyut leaned back in his chair, lips quirking. "Just admit it. You're kanjoos."

"Oh?" she said sweetly, tilting her head. "I think maybe your wedding needs to be postponed another month. Hmm?"

Vidyut's eyes narrowed. "Don't you dare."

"Then don't provoke me," she shot back with a crisp smile. A smile that held no warmth-just warning.

She rose, collecting her tablet and phone, the glow from the screen reflecting off her sharp features. "That's all for now. Maharsh, I'll call you at 6 a.m. I want the raw output from the tracker-no filters, no delay. I'll decide our next move based on that."

Maharsh gave a sharp nod. "You'll have it."

As she turned, her eyes paused one last time on the image of the old man on the board. The kind of man who ruined empires from behind the curtains. But this time... he had walked into theirs.

Her heels echoed down the corridor as she walked away-composed, precise, and dangerous.

Behind her, silence lingered once again.

But this time, it wasn't uncertain.

It was the quiet before the storm.

For most people, a first day at a new office might be a mix of nervousness and excitement. But for Ranveer, it was something much more layered - unfamiliar. The environment here was unlike anything he had experienced in his past. It wasn't just new - it felt like an entirely different world.

In the royal palace, where he had worked all these years - he had been a shadow. A presence without a voice. A body that moved on command, rarely acknowledged unless needed, and certainly never welcomed.

But here... here was different.

The moment he stepped into the office, a staff member approached him with a polite smile and handed him a fresh bouquet of white and blue orchids.

"Welcome, Mr. Awasthi," they said softly.

Ranveer looked at the bouquet as if it were foreign - hesitant hands receiving it like he didn't quite believe it was meant for him.

He murmured a quiet "Thank you," unsure if his voice was even heard.

Then they led him upstairs - to his own cabin.

It wasn't just any room. It was modern, spacious, well-lit, with polished wooden interiors and soft ambient lighting. The company's logo stood behind a frosted glass wall. On the cabin door, a sleek nameplate read:

Ranveer Awasthi

Managing Directors

He stood still for a moment, just staring at it.

His name. On a door. On a wall that wasn't made to trap him, but to belong to him.

It was... overwhelming.

Someone entered with a stack of papers and politely introduced themselves, "I'm Arman, your personal assistant. I've been assigned to help you settle in and brief you about the company."

Ranveer simply nodded.

Arman handed him a schedule for the week, some overview reports, and a company profile presentation. Ranveer placed the bouquet carefully on the table, opened his laptop, and began reading through the documents in silence.

As the minutes passed, the room grew quieter, and slowly - the silence began to feel like his own.

He sank into the rhythm of work easily. Perhaps too easily - it was a space where he didn't need to talk. Just read, think, analyse. Something he was unnaturally good at. The world outside slowly disappeared, as it always did when his mind locked into focus.

That is, until a sudden knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

His head snapped up.

Then - instinctively - his hand moved to the small button on the side of his desk. With one press, the glass doors of his cabin slid open automatically.

He exhaled quietly, grateful.

Because saying "come in"  felt too foreign.

Arman stepped in, holding a notepad. "Sir, it's lunchtime. Should I bring your lunch here?"

Ranveer checked the clock. 1:08 PM. He hadn't realized.

He shook his head faintly. "No... I brought lunch."

"Anything else I can get for you, sir?"

Ranveer paused, then remembered Dhruvika's words this morning.

"Bring something healthy to drink in office, okay?"

He hesitated.

Then finally said, "A healthy drink."

"Any specific preference?"

He blinked. The question almost startled him.

Dhruvika didn't told anything about preference..did she?

"Anything would be fine," he said after a beat.

Arman nodded with a smile and left.

Ranveer sat back and sighed. This was strange. All of it. The silence. The respect. The freedom. Even asking for something - being served - still felt like he was doing something odd.

He pulled out the tiffin Dhruvika had packed for him - carefully wrapped, her handwriting on a tiny post-it note inside that simply read:

"Finish it. I'll check"

His face soften.

As he slid his laptop aside and set the tiffin box on the desk, another knock came.

He pressed the button again.

Arman entered with a bottle of chilled mixed fruit juice. "Here, sir. No sugar added. Organic."

Ranveer nodded, murmured a quiet thank you, and placed it beside the lunch.

As Arman left, he picked up his phone.

There was only one number his fingers instinctively dialed.

Meanwhile - Back at Dhruvika's office

Dhruvika stood near her desk, flipping through a series of design printouts that her junior team had just presented. Her eyes scanned every corner with sharp precision.

"The designs need improvement," she said firmly. "They feel repetitive - too close to our last campaign. I want something fresh, new"

The employees nodded quickly.

"I want revised versions today. No delays."

"Yes, ma'am," they said in chorus, handing her a document for approval.

As she was about to sign, her phone lit up.

She didn't need to check the name. Her lips curved into a soft smile the second she saw the number.

"Excuse me," she told the team, picking up the call. "Yes, Director saab?" she teased, already knowing who it was.

They quietly exited as she leaned against her chair.

"Had your lunch?" Ranveer's voice came from the other side.

"Not yet. I'm about to. You?"

"Having." He spoke

There was something in his tone. A hesitation. A weight.

She knew it instantly.

"What happened, Veer?" she asked softly, concern weaving into her voice.

Silence.

Then

"It's all good... the office, the staff... everything's good. They're respectful. Kind."

Of course, she knew that. She had made sure of it - from the office setup to handpicking the assistant who would understand Ranveer's silence. She'd left no thread loose.

"Then?" she pressed.

"...It's just a little odd."

"What's odd?"

"...Giving orders. Telling the PA to get something. I'm not used to it."

Dhruvika closed her eyes briefly. Of course. Of course this would be hard for him.

"Veer," she said gently. "It's not 'ordering'. He's your assistant. He's there to reduce your load, so you can do the job you were hired to do."

"Hm."

"And besides... you don't order. You ask Politely"

He didn't answer. He knew she knows him better than himself.

She smiled softly.

"You don't have to change who you are to fit this role, veer. Just speak the way you do. Let them work the way they should."

"Hmm...He brought the drink," he said finally.

"Good. Now finish your lunch. I'll come pick you up in the evening - and you owe me a party."

"A party?"

"Yes. Kachori. From that corner stall . We're going there. My treat - from you" she added with a grin in her voice.

something in his chest eased. The quiet in his breath shifted - softer now.

"Okay," he replied.

"Good. Now finish everything. And keep your forehead stress-line smooth. You know I'll check," she added before placing a gentle kiss through the call - a sound, a warmth that made him close his eyes.

When the call ended, he looked at the now half-eaten lunch.

He picked up another bite.

Back in her office, Dhruvika leaned back into her chair, a small sigh leaving her lips. Everything was going smoothly - better than she had dared hope. And tomorrow, she would fly to Rishikesh for him.... That's why she had already requested Yashwant's c

hopper.

Ranveer's health was still a ticking clock in the back of her mind.

But for now, she smiled.

Because today - her husband, who once thought he had no place in this world - had a cabin with his name on it.

And that was a victory she'd never stop fighting for.

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