### **[Ishita's Perspective]**

It was a bright, noisy lunch break at the university campus. I was sitting with my friend, **Shreya**, at our usual table outside the canteen, quickly finishing a *frankie* before my next lecture. Shreya was oblivious to the double life I was leading-the simple college girl by day, the CEO's unspoken *shanti* by night.

We were talking about a notoriously difficult professor when the conversation at the table next to us snagged my attention like a rogue thread. Two girls, dressed in the latest fashion, were dissecting someone's life with casual cruelty.

**Girl 1 (Snide voice):** **"...I mean, seriously? She keeps posting these cryptic captions about *'feeling safe'* and *'finding light in the darkness.'* Please. Everyone knows what she's *really* found."**

**Girl 2 (Scandalized):** **"Money, darling! What else? These girls only choose men for their money, only for the power. *Usmein kya naya hai?*"** (What's new in that?)

My stomach clenched. They weren't talking about me, I knew that. They were talking about some random socialite dating a rich businessman. But the next line made the air freeze around me.

**Girl 1:** **"Exactly! And the way they try to sell the fantasy! Like, 'The powerful billionaire is only soft with me.' *Huhh, bullshit!* How can a cold-blooded man who runs the world and fires people daily suddenly turn into a puppy for one girl? It's all a show for the public and the bank balance!"**

**Shreya:** **"Ishita? Hey, you okay? Your *frankie* is going cold."**

I blinked, forcing myself back. Shreya was looking at me curiously.

**Ishita:** (My voice was tight, thin) **"Yeah. Just... the stuffing is too spicy today."**

But the words of the gossiping girl echoed in my ears, chillingly accurate to my own situation: *How can a cold-blooded man suddenly turn into a puppy for one girl?*

**Ishita** (Inner Monologue): *They think it's fake. They think my connection with Rudra-the 'shanti' he talks about, the care he shows, the ice cream he tolerated-is just a mask for the money. Do people see me like that too? Does Rudra ever wonder if that's why I stay?*

The truth of my feelings for Rudra was fierce, overwhelming, and had nothing to do with the Rathor Tower or the diamond mines. But his world was so grand, and mine so small, that the gossip suddenly felt like a legitimate question mark hanging over us.

I quickly finished my *frankie*, needing a distraction. I pulled out my phone. There was a text.

**From: Rudra**

**"*Ek important deal ho gayi.* Celebration dinner tonight. Black dress. Be ready at 8. No arguments. And yes, *drink your water.*"** (One important deal is done.)

A small, defiant smile touched my lips. A black dress. A high-stakes celebration. A billionaire who sends hydration reminders.

**Ishita** (Inner Monologue): *Let them talk. I know what he is to me. And I know what I am to him: not a trophy, but his truth. I just wish I could be brave enough to tell him I love him, so he knows my heart is the only currency I care about.*

But the seed of doubt, planted by the cruel gossip, was still there, buzzing faintly in the back of my mind.

The phone vibrated again in my hand. **"I'm outside."**

He was here. Just like he was supposed to be. Black suit, black car, ready for the 'celebration dinner' he hadn't even asked me about properly. The perfect, stable, dependable Rudra.

I stared at the text, the lipstick note from last night-**"I will call you tomorrow. Properly. You and I. We need to talk."**-mocking me now. He had promised a future, stability, a shared life.

But the voices of the gossiping girls felt louder than his promise.

*Gold digger.* *Motive.* *Show for the public.*

I couldn't face the Rudra who saw motives. I needed time for the girl in the mirror to convince herself she wasn't that person. I couldn't look into his ocean-blue eyes and risk seeing even a shadow of suspicion there.

My fingers trembled as I typed. I needed an excuse. A simple, undeniable excuse.

**Ishita:** (Texting, not daring to call) **"Rudra... I'm so sorry. I can't make it tonight. *Aaj rehne do.*"** (Let's skip today.)

His reply was instant.

**Rudra:** **"Why? What happened? *Client cancel ho gaya?*"** (Did a client cancel?)

**Ishita:** **"No. It's... it's my head. *Bahut pain ho raha hai.* I think I need to sleep early. The bridal trial was hectic today. I'm really sorry."** (It hurts a lot.)

I added two emojis: a **sick face** 🤢 and a **pleading face** 🙏. I hated lying to him, but the thought of sitting across from him in that expensive black dress, wondering if he saw a gold digger, was unbearable.

**Rudra:** (His reply was brief, controlled, but laced with clear disappointment) **"I see. Should I send Laksh with medicine, or a doctor?"**

**Ishita:** **"No! No, please. *Garam paani aur aaram se theek ho jaega.* You go enjoy your deal celebration. *Aur haan,* thank you for understanding."** (Hot water and rest will fix it.)

**Ishita** (Inner Monologue): *If he forces me, if he insists on coming up, I'll know he still trusts me. He never forces.*

### **Rudra Singh Rathor's Perspective**

I leaned against the hood of my car, the low evening sun reflecting off the polished chrome. I had waited for her, watching the door, a small, celebratory smile ready. I was going to tell her that the deal was secured, but the real celebration was just *being with her.*

Then, the text came. **"I can't make it tonight. My head is hurting."**

I frowned. It was a complete reversal. She never canceled. She was meticulous about keeping her promises, especially our shared time.

**Rudra** (Inner Monologue): *She's lying. Her client was done hours ago. Her headache is an excuse.*

The immediate reaction was anger-the old, cold CEO anger at broken schedules. But then, the newer, softer side took over. The part that remembered her tear-filled eyes in the garden.

*I promised I wouldn't force her. I promised to respect her space.*

**Rudra:** (Texting back, forcing myself to be gentle) **"I see. Should I send Laksh with medicine, or a doctor?"**

Her frantic denial confirmed my suspicion: she didn't want anyone near her right now, especially not me.

**Rudra** (Inner Monologue): *She is pulling away. Why? Did someone say something? Did I do something wrong?*

The disappointment was a heavy, physical ache in my chest. I wanted to fight the distance, to go up there and demand the truth, but I couldn't. Not after my promises.

**Rudra:** (I typed slowly, swallowing my frustration) **"Fine, Ishita. Rest well. *Aur agar zaroorat ho, toh call karna.* No matter the time. I will be awake. Good night."** (And if you need anything, call.)

I put the car in drive, the engine rumbling to life. The celebration was ruined. The city skyline blurred as I sped away from her quiet street, leaving her alone with her silence and her sudden, baffling distance.

**Rudra** (Inner Monologue): *This is what happens when you let emotion into your life. It becomes unpredictable. It becomes painful.* *But I still won't force her.*

---

I sat with one arm resting on the steering wheel, my gaze fixed on the entrance of her studio, watching the exact minute she would emerge.

*Same hour. Same lane. Same everything.*

Except, the moment she stepped out, my gut clenched. Something was fundamentally missing.

She didn't do her usual soft run towards the car in her heels, her bag swinging. No teasing smile, no small wave, and no sparkle in those damn brown eyes that usually made my breath catch.

Today... she just *walked*. Shoulders slightly hunched, expression unreadable, face blank. She opened the door, slid in, and buckled up without a word.

The second the door closed, the air in the car thickened with tension. I didn't even turn the engine on.

**Rudra:** (I asked immediately, shifting my body toward her, my voice low and concerned) **"What's wrong?"**

She didn't meet my gaze, staring straight ahead at the dashboard.

**Ishita:** **"Nothing, *aap kaise ho?*"** (How are you?) she asked, the question completely devoid of her usual warmth.

*Nothing?* I knew instantly she was lying. That flat, polite tone was a defense mechanism.

I let the silence hang for a moment, absorbing the disappointment. Then I turned the engine on, pulling the car onto the road slowly. I didn't push her. *Yet.* But my mind was already at war. Why the hell was she distant?

### **Ishita Sharma's Perspective**

I felt his eyes on me the whole time. That gaze that usually felt like home-the safest place in the world-today felt too much. Too demanding.

I couldn't even look at him properly. Because if I did, I might start crying. And if I cried, I would have to tell him those poisonous words the girls had said.

*What if he also thinks that? What if he's waiting for my motive?*

It hurt. Every second I wasn't myself around him-hurt like hell. But I needed to protect myself from the possibility of his judgment.

**Rudra:** (His voice cut through the silence, slowly, firmly) **"Ishita. Look at me."**

I hesitated, but his command was gentle. I finally turned, meeting his eyes briefly.

And the moment our eyes met, I knew he saw it. The raw, confused pain.

**Rudra:** **"Did I do something?"** he asked, his voice low and cautious.

I shook my head immediately, forcing a small, painful smile.

**Ishita:** **"*Aap... aap kuch bhi nahi kiya, Rudra.*"** (You... you didn't do anything.)

That made it worse. My voice was a shaky whisper, betraying the lie. I quickly looked away, resting my hands tightly on my lap.

**Rudra:** (His voice held no anger, only strained patience) **"Then tell me what's bothering you. I'm not used to distance from you. *Hamare beech koi faasla nahi hai, aur main yeh nahi chahta.*"** (There is no distance between us, and I don't want this.)

I hated making him feel rejected. But how do you ask a man like *Rudra Singh Rathor* about his belief in your integrity?

I stayed quiet for a few more excruciating moments. Then finally, the question I couldn't hold back slipped out, barely a whisper.

**Ishita:** **"Rudra ji... *aapko kabhi laga*... ke main... *aapke paas sirf aapke naam, paise, ya status ki wajah se hoon?*"** (Did you ever feel... that I am with you only because of your name, money, or status?)

### **Rudra Singh Rathor's Perspective**

*What the fuck.*

I slammed the brakes, parking the car abruptly on the side of the deserted road. I hit the brake, shut the engine off, and turned fully toward her.

That question pierced through the armor I had built since childhood. My anger wasn't aimed at her; it was aimed at the world that dared to pollute her beautiful, honest mind.

**Rudra:** (My voice was calm, terrifyingly controlled, but my chest was on fire) **"Don't *ever* say that again, Ishita."**

I shook my head, my jaw tightening as I stared into her hurting eyes.

**Rudra:** **"*Tumhare jaisa koi*... paise ke liye kisi ke paas aaye? *Yeh kya baat kar rahi ho?*"** (Someone like you... would come to someone for money? What are you saying?)

I let the intensity of my denial fill the car.

**Rudra:** **"Do you know what I see in you, Ishita? *Main tum mein woh dekhta hoon jo meri poori company aur yeh poori shahi khaandaan nahi dekhti.*"** (I see in you what my entire company and this royal family doesn't see.)

My voice dropped, laced with the sincerity of a man who rarely spoke truth this raw.

**Rudra:** **"I'm not soft because I pity you. *Main soft hoon kyunki tum meri shanti ho!*"** (I am soft because you are my peace!) **"I'm not laughing with you because you're entertaining, *main hasta hoon kyunki tum mujhe khush rakhti ho.*"** (I laugh because you keep me happy.)

I reached out, taking her hands in mine, gripping them firmly.

**Rudra:** **"And I sure as hell don't wait outside your studio every day because I think you're *one more model*."**

**Rudra:** **"You're not *anyone* to me, Ishita..."** I paused, my throat thick with unshed emotion, then corrected the most important line, **"...*tum*... you're everything."**

I squeezed her hands, looking at her with a depth of feeling that defied any spreadsheet or balance sheet. **"*Tum mere liye gold digger nahi, tum mere liye sona ho, jise main chupa ke rakhta hoon, sabki buri nazar se.*"** (You are not a gold digger for me, you are gold, which I hide from everyone's evil eye.) **"*Aisa kabhi sochna bhi mat.*"** (Don't ever think like that.)

### **Ishita Sharma's Perspective**

I couldn't meet his eyes. My world felt exposed, vulnerable, and too fragile after those awful whispers from the canteen.

His words were still echoing in my ears - *"You're everything."*

But I... I still had to explain. I didn't want him to think I doubted *him.* It was the *world* I didn't trust. The people. Their perceptions. Their judgments.

I looked down at my lap, twisting my fingers nervously, and whispered-

**Ishita:** **"But I mean... maybe people think like that. Like... your staff, your team-when you postpone work for me... or when you leave meetings to pick me up or..."**

I felt a lump in my throat. Swallowed it hard.

**Ishita:** **"I'm just... a makeup artist, and a model trying to build her career. And you-"** My voice cracked. **"You're *Rudra Singh Rathor.* One of the top five richest men in the world. And..."** I took a deep breath. **"...maybe they think I'm only near you for that. They think my motives are financial."**

I heard his breath hitch. I still didn't look up. Because my eyes were already starting to sting, blurring the view of my lap.

### **Rudra Singh Rathor's Perspective**

I clenched my fists on the steering wheel for a second, fighting the urge to tear out of the car and destroy the people who had put this poison in her mind.

Her voice. That *trembling* voice. Those *shaky* words.

She wasn't questioning *my feelings*-she was fighting everyone else's shadows. This was about *my* name being a burden on *her* integrity.

I reached out, slowly, and wrapped my fingers around her hand, stilling them. Her hands were cold, and I hated that. I needed to pour my warmth back into her.

**Rudra:** (I squeezed her hand, gently, forcing her to look at me. She hesitated, but did. Her eyes were glassy, and it shattered something in me.) **"Ishita. *Meri aankhon mein dekho.*"** (Look into my eyes.)

**Rudra:** **"Do you really think,"** I said, carefully, letting the depth of my emotion temper my usual cold voice, **"...that a man like me-who trusts no one, who doesn't even believe in love or God-would let anyone that close to me unless *I felt something real*?"**

She blinked rapidly, her lips parted slightly, not saying a word.

**Rudra:** **"Do you know how many women try to reach me for my money, my name, my face, my power? *Kitni saari.*"** (So many.) I shook my head slightly. **"You're the only one who never even *asked* for my number. Who never flaunted being around me."**

**Rudra:** **"You're the only one who makes me sit outside a studio like a lovesick fool and I don't even mind. *Main ek minute bhi wait nahi karta, Ishita, agar tum jhooth hoti.*"** (I wouldn't wait even for a minute if you were a lie.)

I gave a dry, quiet laugh.

**Rudra:** **"You don't care about my wealth, and *that's why* I want to *give* you everything. *Tumhe is paise ki zaroorat nahi hai, aur yeh hi tumhari sabse badi taaqat hai.*"** (You don't need this money, and that is your biggest strength.)

She gasped slightly at those words, her breath catching in her throat.

### **Ishita Sharma's Perspective**

His grip on my hand was firm, warm-like he was trying to anchor me back to reality.

And those words. *"That's why I want to give you everything."*

It wasn't a proposal, but it was a promise of devotion far deeper than a confession. He was acknowledging that my lack of desire for his money was the very reason he trusted me with his soul.

I squeezed his hand back unconsciously, the warmth slowly spreading through my cold fingers.

**Ishita:** (I looked at him finally, my eyes soft, filled with overwhelming gratitude) **"You do give me everything, Rudra ji..."**

I took a shaky breath, letting my own truth echo his sentiment.

**Ishita:** **"And not your money or your status... but your time, your attention, your... *softness* that no one else ever sees. *Woh mere liye kaafi hai.*"** (That is enough for me.)

He didn't reply immediately, but the way his thumb gently brushed over my knuckles, his eyes intensely holding mine, he didn't need to. He understood.

### **Rudra Singh Rathor's Perspective**

I watched her silently, feeling the tension finally release from her shoulders. She was believing me. That was the only victory that mattered.

**Rudra:** (I leaned in a little closer, my voice low but steady, sealing the promise) **"Next time someone says something like that, Ishita..."**

I paused, letting the severity of my protective instinct show.

**Rudra:** **"...send them to me. *Unko bataunga ki meri *shanti* kitni precious hai.* I'll handle it."** (I will tell them how precious my peace is.)

Her smile was small, but real, breaking through the last of the fear. And for the first time in hours, I saw *my Ishita* again.

**Rudra:** (I lifted her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm, a gesture of reverence.) **"*Ab chalo. Mujhe bhook lagi hai.* And since we skipped the celebration, *aaj hum sirf Ice Cream khayenge.* Your indulgence, my punishment."** (Now let's go. I'm hungry. Today we will only eat Ice Cream.)

**Ishita:** (Her laughter bubbled up, light and bright) **"*Sach mein? Sirf ice cream?*"** (Really? Only ice cream?)

**Rudra:** **"Only ice cream. But *sath mein*... you have to tell me the full story of what those useless people said. *I need to know every single word.*"** (Together with it...)