### **[Rudra Singh Rathore's Perspective - Longer]**

Sometimes I really... *pause*. I really look at myself and wonder-*who the hell even am I anymore?*

I was the man who didn't believe in love. Didn't *need* it. Didn't want people around me. Girls? Never interested. They annoyed me. Too loud. Too clingy. Too dramatic. Markets? Crowds? Heat? Noise? Disgusting.

I lived by order, silence, and power. My day was a structure of spreadsheets, boardrooms, cold coffees, and calculated smiles. I thrived on precision. Control.

And yet... Today I was walking in a dusty old bazaar. Holding paper shopping bags like a sidekick. Postponing million-dollar meetings. Ditching global calls. Wearing a white shirt now stained with *mango kulfi*. Watching a tiny, loud girl bargain for *jhumkas* like it was a mission from God.

And not just *watching* her. Smiling. Admiring. Falling.

Me. Rudra Singh Rathore.

I mean-come on. I'm **6'3**, broad-shouldered, gym-sculpted, head of two companies, born with silver in my mouth and steel in my spine. Girls stare at me like I walked out of a bloody Greek myth. People *tremble* when I enter rooms.

But here I am... getting *scolded.*

**Ishita:** **"ARE YOU INSANE? You *cancelled* the foreign investor call? That was *three months* in planning!"**

I swear she had her hands on her waist like a school teacher. The same girl who takes 45 selfies in my car just to pick one. Now lecturing me like *I'm* the reckless one.

I didn't say a word. Just... stared. At how her long nails sparkled as she waved her hand around. At how her bangles clinked as she moved. At how her nose flared when she was mad.

*God.*

I could rule kingdoms, crush markets, end wars-but I couldn't *survive* her being upset with me.

And then she said it, hitting the nail right on the head.

**Ishita:** **"You don't care about money or deals anymore, do you? What the hell is wrong with you, Mr. Rathore?"**

I smiled. Actually smiled.

Because no, I didn't care. Not when I could watch *her* wrinkle her nose and throw sass at me.

I gently pulled her closer by her wrist, stopping her movement, and said-

**Rudra:** **"There's nothing wrong with me, Ishita. I'm just falling in love... recklessly."**

Her eyes widened. She blinked. The scolding melted, replaced by a sudden, intense blush that painted her brown skin the color of a sunset.

But she still tried to stay mad, maintaining the illusion of control. She slapped my chest lightly-a feather touch that still shook me-and said, **Ishita:** **"Don't say cheesy lines, okay? We're in public!"**

I leaned down and whispered in her ear, my voice low and dark, cutting through the market noise. **Rudra:** **"Then stop making me feel things I never believed in. Stop making me want to cancel every meeting just to watch you live."**

She turned red instantly, snatching her wrist back. She started walking ahead-pretending to be annoyed, pretending to ignore the heat I had just generated. But I saw her smile when she thought I wasn't looking-that small, private curve of her lips that was purely for me.

So yes... sometimes I can't believe I'm this man now. But if this is what love does-makes a ruthless CEO skip meetings just to see *her* laugh while eating *golgappa*?

Then maybe... Just *maybe*-I never really lived before her.

**Rudra:** **"Are you buying me *chaat* with the money you saved, Isha?"** I called out, jogging slightly to catch up to her hurried steps. **"Or was that just the principle?"**

The world knows Rudra Singh Rathor as a monolith. Cold, precise, utterly impenetrable. And in this home gym, surrounded by the competitive grunt of steel and the easy camaraderie of my brothers and cousins, I maintained that image. I was the same **Rudra Singh Rathor** as before-focused, powerful, and utterly detached from frivolous emotion.

Except I wasn't. Not when I was around *her*.

I lifted the heavy barbell, the weight a familiar, welcome resistance. My younger brother, Jay, was sparring lightly with my cousins, Akshat and Vardaan, who were sprawled out, recovering.

They were loud, easy, and entirely **unaware of my love life**-the tectonic shift that had occurred inside the gym-sculpted, 6'3" shell they saw every day.

*Ishita.*

I closed my eyes for a fraction of a second, picturing her fiercely bargaining for those cheap silver earrings. The thought cut through the sterile focus of my workout, injecting warmth and chaos. I was waiting. Waiting for her to say *yes*. The waiting was agonizing, yet laced with a dangerous thrill.

Jay leaned against the squat rack, wiping his brow. **Jay:** **"*Bhai* (Brother), come on! You are 25! Get married, please! Seriously, I want a *bhabhi* (sister-in-law) to joke around with, because you don't do such things."**

Jay's complaint was loud and clear: I was too serious, too unapproachable. He needed someone to break the ice I'd built around the family.

Vardaan and Akshat chimed in, perfectly timed, as always. They knew how to coordinate an attack.

**Vardaan:** **"Yeah, *Bhai*. Jay is right. We need a source of fun around here. You make the whole mansion feel like a board meeting."**

**Akshat:** **"Plus, Jay needs a distraction! He keeps **teasing me and Vardaan** mercilessly about **Drishti and Reet**. We need a *bhabhi* to redirect his energy, or else I swear I will ruin his next business presentation."**

**Jay:** (He chuckled, throwing a towel at Akshat.) **"And also, *Bhai*, Akshat *bhai* also wants to marry Drishti *bhabhi* as he is getting impatient for the honeymoon! He needs you to set a timeline so *he* can plan his life!"**

They were laughing, the typical easy banter of men with simple problems: girlfriends, honeymoons, and playful sibling rivalry.

I racked the weight, the sound echoing sharply in the gym. I turned to them, my face perfectly neutral-the ruthless CEO persona firmly in place.

**Rudra:** **"You find my single status amusing?"** My voice was level, carrying the cold edge that instantly silenced them.

**Rudra:** **"Jay, you will focus on the Q4 reports, not my marital status. Vardaan, manage the supply chain crisis in the South. Akshat, I need the updated security protocols for the Mumbai acquisition by morning. Focus on things you can control. I, however, will manage my own timeline."**

I picked up my water bottle, my eyes sweeping over them, letting the silence hang heavy. They were disciplined soldiers, not knowing their general was already half-deployed in a completely different war-the one for the heart of a small, fierce woman.

*Rudra: You think I need a wife for jokes? You have no idea. I have a Goddess who makes me smile when I look at a cheap silver earring. I have a home waiting for me. And when she says yes, your definition of 'fun' will be completely redefined.*

I gave a curt nod and headed for the door, leaving them to their weights and their comparatively simple love lives.

I was in the **boardroom**, twenty floors above the city, surrounded by my directors. We were reviewing the final details of a major real estate deal-a transaction worth billions. I was speaking, laying out the precise terms of acquisition, my voice sharp and commanding, my focus supposed to be razor-thin.

But my mind was elsewhere.

Instead of seeing the spreadsheets, I saw the dusty street, the small silver earrings, and **Ishita's fierce, tiny face** demanding a fifty-rupee discount.

*Fifty rupees.*

The thought of it was infuriating, yet utterly endearing. She had a man-a man who had just confessed he would **buy the world for her**-and she was still fighting for her 'principle.' It was such a pure, defiant act of independence that it made the steel around my heart ache with possessive tenderness.

I mentally shook myself, finishing the meeting with the cold efficiency I was known for. I dismissed my directors with a curt nod and immediately reached for my phone. The need to hear her voice was a constant, sharp craving.

I called her personal number. The line picked up, and I brought the phone to my ear, already composing a smooth, possessive demand to see her tonight.

But then I heard it. A **male voice**.

Not Laksh. Not her father. A young, confident, easygoing male voice laughing and saying something entirely too casual.

***"Achha, Isha, that lipstick shade is fire! Let's try the smoky eye now, yeah?"***

My blood ran cold. The air conditioning in the room suddenly felt suffocating. The cold control I maintained cracked, and the anger-the dark, familiar fury that had surged when that idiot Kabir had dared to pose with her-came flooding back.

I gripped the phone so tightly my knuckles turned white.

**Rudra:** (My voice was low, dangerously level, cutting through the background noise.) **"Ishita. Who is that?"**

There was a brief pause on her end, and then a distinct shift in the air-she knew. She knew I was jealous, and I knew she was about to play.

**Ishita:** (Her voice was deliberately airy, casual, and far too close to the microphone.) **"Oh, hi, Rudra! This is... Kabir? Remember? He's the male model for today's bridal shoot. We're working on a new look."**

*Kabir.* The same name. The same profession. The universe was testing my control.

**Rudra:** (I closed my eyes, fighting the urge to shatter the expensive mahogany table. I dropped the formalities.) **"Put the phone on speaker, Ishi. Right now. I need to know why he's calling your lipstick 'fire.'"**

**Ishita:** (She giggled-a sound that only fueled the possessive fire.) **"Relax, Rudra. It's just work! He's really good, actually. Very professional, very tall... and he has really nice hands."**

That was a direct hit. My hands were my pride-large, veiny, powerful.

**Rudra:** (I leaned forward, dropping all pretense. My voice was a soft, lethal snarl.) **"Ishita. Don't lie to me. Tell me who you are with. And why you are purposely trying to make me angry. Do not test my limits, **Jaan**."**

**Ishita:** (She sighed dramatically, still pretending to be busy.) **"Oh, *Jaan*? Getting possessive now? And I'm not lying. He's right here. He just gave me his honest opinion on my new eyeliner technique."**

**Rudra:** **"Give him the phone."**

**Ishita:** **"What? Why?"**

**Rudra:** **"Give the phone to the 'model.' I need to tell him the terms of his employment, which do *not* include discussing your appearance in familiar terms, Isha."**

I could hear her trying to smother her laughter now.

**Ishita:** **"Rudra, he's not a model! Oh my god, you are impossible! **Jaan,** it's my new intern! His name is *Karan*, not Kabir! And he's nineteen and terrified of me! He just complimented the shade of lipstick on a client I was showing him!"**

I went silent, the tension draining out of me like bathwater, replaced by an embarrassing, raw relief.

**Rudra:** (I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling the remnants of the cold fury.) **"An intern. A nineteen-year-old intern named Karan."**

**Ishita:** (She was laughing fully now.) **"Yes! And he definitely does *not* have hands as nice as yours. I just wanted to remind you what the price of canceling a meeting for *golgappas* is, Mr. Rathor. It's a little insecurity."**

**Rudra:** **"You almost started a corporate war over a *nineteen-year-old intern*. Never pull that trick again, **Ishi**. Never."**

The fury was gone, replaced by relief and a profound awareness of my own possessive idiocy. She was laughing now, that clear, bright sound that always brought me back to center.

**Ishita:** (She spoke softly, her tone shifting, matching the sudden tenderness in the air.) **"So... where are you?"**

I looked out the panoramic window of my empty boardroom, the city stretching out in a shimmering grid below.

**Rudra:** (I smiled softly, genuinely.) **"I'm right where I was an hour ago, **Ishi**. In the boardroom. But now the meetings are finished, and the crisis-thanks to your mischief-has been neutralized. Where are *you*?"**

**Ishita:** **"Still in the studio. Just packed up. Umm... still jealous?"** she teased, testing the waters.

**Rudra:** (I chuckled, leaning back in my leather chair.) **"*Ab ese kaam karogi toh kya karu, bolo?*"** (Now if you do things like that, what am I supposed to do, tell me?) **"You deliberately used the word 'model' and mentioned his 'nice hands,' **Jaana**. You knew exactly what you were doing."**

**Ishita:** (She giggled softly.) **"Sorry."**

**Rudra:** **"Don't be."** I corrected her instantly. **"You gave me a fascinating insight into my own limitations. And a much-needed reminder to keep my priorities straight. Which means, my next available time is yours."**

**Ishita:** **"Kal chalein kahin?"** (Shall we go somewhere tomorrow?)

**Rudra:** **"Order, madam. Where are we going? Private jet or helicopter this time?"** I joked, testing her limits.

**Ishita:** **"See, it's monsoon season."**

**Rudra:** **"So?"** I waited, intrigued by her mysterious tone.

**Ishita:** **"I thought we will go somewhere on bike. Somewhere far. Just us. Hmmm?"**

My breath hitched. A bike. Open road. Monsoon air. Chaos. No security bubble. No climate control. It was the absolute opposite of my life. And the most thrilling thing I had heard all week.

**Rudra:** **"A bike? You want me to give up my armored car for two wheels and a potential downpour, **Ishi**?"** I asked, masking the excitement with my usual cool skepticism.

**Ishita:** **"Yes! Imagine the rain, the freedom, the empty roads! We can stop at some little roadside *dhaba* and drink hot tea! It will be an adventure, Rudra! Just for a day. Please?"** Her voice was pleading now, painting a picture of reckless romance.

**Rudra:** (I closed my eyes, already feeling the wind and the spray of the rain. It sounded like *life*.) **"A bike it is then, **Jaana**. But I'm driving, and you are holding on to me the entire time. No high heels. And I want the itinerary sent to Laksh immediately for route clearance."**

**Ishita:** (She laughed-a sound of pure triumph.) **"Done! I'll send you the route details and I promise no heels! Just jeans, sneakers, and me holding on to you like glue. Pick me up early, okay? And wear leather. You'll look amazing."**

**Rudra:** **"I always look amazing, **Ishi**. And I'll see you at dawn. Now, go home and get some rest. I need my Goddess alert for this great adventure."** I ended the call, already buzzing with a completely unfamiliar energy. I was going on a bike ride. For love. Unbelievable.