💖 Ishita's Perspective:

It had been exactly one week since the Roka and my birthday. One week of living in a dream world where I was officially Rudra's. But today, the dream world collided with reality.

I was sitting in my favorite cafe in Noida with **Aditi, Muskan, and Prachi**. Usually, our hangouts were full of laughter and gossip about makeup trends, but today, the air was thick enough to cut with a knife.

I had finally told them. All of it.

"So..." **Aditi** started, her voice dangerously calm as she leaned across the table. "You're telling me that for the last four years, while I've been complaining about my husband who was my boyfriend back then **Veer's** work hours, you've been dating his childhood best friend? The **Rudra Singh Rathore**?"

I bit my lower lip, my hand instinctively going to the *bangles** hidden under my sleeve. "Yes."

"And **Veer** knew?" Aditi's eyes widened. "My own husband knew his best friend was dating my best friend, and he didn't say a word?"

"I asked him not to, Aditi," I whispered. "Rudra's life is so... intense. I wasn't ready for the world to know. I wanted us to have something private before the media turned it into a circus."

**Prachi**, my cousin sister, looked like she was about to explode. "Ishu! We live in the same house half the time! I'm your sister! How did you hide a 6'3" billionaire Prince from me? I thought you were just 'working late' at the studio!"

**Muskan** was just staring at me, her mouth hanging open. "Girl, I've seen him on the cover of *Forbes*. I've seen him on the news looking like he eats CEOs for breakfast. And you're saying he... he picks you up in a black car every night?"

"He does," I admitted, my cheeks turning that familiar shade of pink.

"They are **furious**," Prachi muttered, crossing her arms. "We tell you everything! We told you about our crushes, our breakups, our bad hair days. And you hide the biggest engagement of the century?"

"I'm sorry!" I cried out, reaching for their hands. "It wasn't about not trusting you. It was about protecting what we had. Rudra is... he's a lot. To the world, he's **ruthless and heartless**. I needed to know the real him before I let everyone else in."

"Is he really?" Muskan leaned in, her anger momentarily replaced by curiosity. "Is he really that cold? Because in the photos, he looks like he could freeze fire."

I thought about the way he cradled me like a baby at the hospital. I thought about the way he kissed the lipstick off his own lips just to silence my protests. I thought about the **hickey marks** he shamelessly left on my neck.

"For the world, he is," I said, a soft smile playing on my lips. "But for me... he's different. He's protective. He's romantic. And god, he's so **shamelessly flirting** all the time."

"I can't believe this," Aditi groaned, though I saw her expression softening. "Veer is going to get a piece of my mind for keeping this secret. But you... you are in big trouble, Ishu. We want details. Every. Single. Detail."

"Starting with the Roka," Prachi demanded, pointing at my neck where the **diamond necklace** was hidden beneath my scarf. "Show us the rock,

I laughed, feeling the weight of the secret finally lifting. But just as I was about to show them my necklace, my phone buzzed on the table.

**Msg from My Maaal ❤️: coming to pick you up Five minutes, Ishi. I don't like waiting, and I like sharing you even less.**

"Speak of the devil," I murmured, looking at the screen. He is coming

The three of them scrambled to the window of the cafe, desperate to see the man who had stolen their best friend's heart and kept her secret for four years.

The drama in the cafe was reaching a boiling point. **Aditi** looked like she was ready to flip the table.

"I cannot believe the audacity!" she practically shrieked, making a few people at the next table jump. "Ishi, think back to **my wedding** last year! Rudra was there as Veer's best man. You were my maid of honor. We spent three days in the same hotel!"

I winced, remembering the sheer torture of that weekend. "I know, Aditi..."

"No, you don't 'know'!" she countered, her hands flying in the air. "We literally sat you two next to each other at the Sangeet dinner because we thought, *'Oh, Ishu is so sweet and Rudra is so grumpy, maybe she can fix him.'* You guys acted like complete strangers! You didn't even make eye contact!"

**Muskan** chimed in, laughing hysterically now. "Oh my God, I remember that! We were all whispering in the corner, saying, *'Poor Ishu, she's stuck sitting next to the Glacier.'* We were trying so hard to set you up! We kept making excuses for you to go talk to him, and you just kept saying, *'No, he looks busy,'* or *'He seems a bit intimidating.'*"

**Prachi** slapped her forehead. "And the whole time, you were probably meeting him at midnight! While we were trying to play Cupid, you two were already... already... **Set!**"

The irony was killing them. They had spent months trying to find me a 'worthy' guy, even suggesting I should try to catch Rudra's attention because "he's rich and hot," never realizing that the man they were trying to 'set me up' with already owned my soul.

"Remember when Veer tried to introduce you?" Aditi pointed a finger at me. "Rudra just gave that cold, stiff nod and said, *'Miss Sharma.'* MISS SHARMA! I thought he was being a rude billionaire, but he was actually just being a professional liar!"

"He's very good at keeping a straight face," I murmured, my face turning crimson. "But if you had looked under the table, he was holding my hand the whole time Veer was talking."

"AHHH!" All three of them screamed in unison, attracting the attention of the entire cafe.

"I feel so betrayed," Prachi joked, though her eyes were twinkling. "All those times I asked you why you had a 'scratch' on your neck and you said it was a 'makeup allergy.' That wasn't an allergy, was it? That was a **Rudra-mark**!"

Before I could defend my 'makeup allergy' excuse, the roar of a very powerful, very expensive engine pulled up right in front of the cafe window. A sleek, black armored SUV came to a halt, the tinted windows hiding the occupant, but the aura of power was unmistakable.

"He's here," Muskan whispered, her eyes glued to the car. "The 'Glacier' is here to pick up his 'Miss Sharma'."

Aditi grabbed my arm, her eyes wide. "If he thinks he can just whisk you away after this bombshell, he's wrong. We are coming out there. I need to tell my husband's best friend exactly what I think of his acting skills!"

I stood up, smoothing down my outfit, my heart racing. I knew Rudra. He was probably checking his watch, his **ocean blue eyes** narrowed with impatience. He didn't like his routine being disrupted, and he certainly didn't like his **Jaana** being interrogated.

"Fine," I said, picking up my bag. "But please... be gentle. He's still technically a 'heartless' billionaire to everyone else."

"Not to us anymore," Prachi smirked. "To us, he's just the guy who's been stealing our sister for four years."

As we walked out of the cafe, the heavy door of the SUV swung open. Rudra stepped out, looking like a literal god in a charcoal grey waistcoat and a crisp white shirt, his sleeves rolled up to reveal his powerful forearms. His **ocean blue eyes** immediately locked onto me, ignoring the three frantic women trailing behind me.

But **Aditi** didn't care about his billionaire aura. She marched right up to him, stopping just inches from his chest.

"Rudra Singh Rathore!" she yelled, hands on her hips. "You and Veer are dead meat! Do you have any idea what I'm going to do to your best friend? **I am going to make *chatni* (relish) out of Veer tonight!** How dare he keep this from me for four years?"

Rudra raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow, a tiny, amused smirk playing on his lips. He didn't look intimidated; he looked like he was enjoying the chaos.

"Aditi," he said, his voice that deep, calm rumble. "If you want to make *chatni* of my best friend, that is your marital right. But don't blame him. I gave him a direct order to stay silent. Blame me."

"Oh, believe me, I am!" Aditi fumed. Then, her eyes suddenly widened as a memory hit her like a lightning bolt. "Wait... oh my God. Ishu! Do you remember? **My engagement day!**"

My heart skipped a beat. I remembered it all too well. It was shortly after Rudra had returned from Canada, after being gone for **three agonizing years**.

"I remember," I whispered, my gaze dropping to the pavement.

"We were all so confused!" Aditi turned back to Rudra, pointing a finger at him. "You, the 'emotionless' stone-man, actually got on stage and **sang a song**. A love song! And you were staring at Ishita the whole time! We thought you were just being weird or maybe you were drunk-even though you don't drink!"

"I wasn't drunk," Rudra said, his voice turning husky as he looked at me. "I was desperate."

**Prachi** gasped, clutching her chest. "And Ishu, you were so **angry**! I remember you walked out of the hall halfway through the song. We thought you were offended because a 'stranger' was staring at you. But it wasn't that, was it?"

"No," I admitted, my voice trembling slightly. "I was furious. He had just come back after three years of silence, and he thought he could just sing a song and make me forget the pain? I wanted to kill him that night."

Rudra stepped closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming, his hand finding the small of my back in that familiar, possessive way.

"She wouldn't even look at me a whole month after that," he told my friends, his thumb tracing a slow circle against my waist. "It took every ounce of my 'ruthless' negotiation skills to get her to even grab a coffee with me. I deserved her anger. I left her for three years to destroy the empire who separated us

**Muskan** fanned herself with her hand. "Okay, this is way more romantic than any Wattpad story. The singing, the secret pining, the three-year separation... Ishu, how did you survive this?"

"I didn't," I laughed softly, looking up at him. "I just eventually realized that no matter how much I tried to hate him, he was still the only man who could make me feel... this."

Rudra looked at my friends, his expression turning serious but respectful. "I apologize for the secrecy. But as you can see, I am a very possessive man. I wanted her to myself for as long as possible. Now, if you'll excuse us, I have a 'Miss Sharma' to take home, and apparently, Aditi has some *chatni* to make."

He opened the car door for me, his eyes promising me that once we were inside, the teasing-and the kisses-would continue.

👑 Rudra's Perspective

I shifted the gear and accelerated, the roar of the engine mirroring the sudden, sharp surge of possessiveness in my chest. One hand stayed on the wheel, while the other reached out, my fingers tangling deeply in her hair, tilting her head toward me just enough so I could see her profile.

"A new project, **Ishi**?" I repeated, my voice dropping into that low, dangerous register that usually made my competitors break into a sweat. "With a male lead? A 'rising star,' you said?"

I felt the familiar, dark heat of **jealousy** curling in my gut. I knew she was the best makeup artist in the business, but the thought of another man-any man-sitting in her chair, feeling the touch of her **tiny hands** on his face, was enough to make me want to burn the studio down.

"Tell me, **Jaana**," I murmured, my thumb tracing the shell of her ear. "Does this 'star' know that the woman touching his face is the future Queen of the Rathore estate? Does he know that every inch of you is already marked by a very, very jealous man?"

She laughed-that light, airy sound that always acted as the only sedative for my temper. "Ru, it's just work! It's a historical drama. I have to do his prosthetics."

"Prosthetics," I grumbled, my grip on her hair tightening just a fraction-not enough to hurt, just enough to remind her who she belonged to. "So you'll be leaning in close. Your breath on his neck. Your fingers on his skin for hours. I don't like it, **Ishi**. Not one bit."

I pulled the car over into a secluded, tree-lined lane and killed the engine. The silence was immediate and heavy. I unbuckled my seatbelt and leaned over, invading her space until she was pressed back against the passenger door, trapped between the leather seat and my **muscular** frame.

"Look at me," I commanded, my **ocean blue eyes** burning with a possessive fire.

She looked up, her breath hitching, her **brown eyes** wide and shimmering with that mix of challenge and adoration I lived for.

"You are mine," I rasped, my face inches from hers. "From the flowers in your hair to the **high heels** on your feet. If I find out this 'rising star' is even looking at you for a second too long, I'll buy the production house and fire him before he can blink. Understood?"

I didn't wait for an answer. I captured her lips in a deep, punishing kiss-a reminder of the claim I'd staked years ago and renewed at our Roka. It tasted of her lipstick and my desperate need to remind her who her **Maaal** really was.

I pulled back just enough to trail my lips down to her neck, finding the spot right above her collarbone. I bit down softly, earning a small, melodic **moan** that vibrated through my entire soul.

"Let him see the mark tomorrow," I whispered against her skin, my voice thick with dark satisfaction. "Let the whole set know that you've been handled by **Rudra Singh Rathore** all night. I want everyone to know you're taken, **Jaana**. Especially him."

I pulled back, smirking as I saw the dazed look in her eyes and the deep flush on her cheeks. I reached out, my thumb wiping a fresh smudge of her **soft, nude lipstick** from my own mouth.

"Now," I said, my voice returning to a smooth, flirtatious drawl. "Tell me more about this project. I want every detail, so I know exactly how many security guards I need to 'assign' to your makeup trailer."

I felt her small hands bunching into the fabric of my waistcoat, trying to push me back, but there was no strength behind the gesture. Instead of shoving me away, she ended up **clinging to me**, her body molding itself perfectly against my chest.

"**Ru**... stop," she whispered, but the way she was hiding her face in the crook of my neck told a completely different story. "You're being a possessive monster. It's just a job."

I let out a low, dark chuckle, my arms wrapping around her **tiny waist** to pull her even tighter. The contrast between my **6'3" muscular frame** and her delicate, soft form never felt more intense than when I was this jealous.

"I told you, **Ishi**," I murmured, my lips brushing against her temple. "I'm a businessman. I protect my most valuable assets. And you are the only asset I can't live without."

She looked up at me then, her eyes soft and sweet, melting the ice in my veins instantly. She reached up, her **long nails** lightly grazing the back of my neck, sending a jolt of pure electricity through me.

"You're not a monster," she teased softly, her voice like honey. "You're just my big, grumpy, overprotective Prince. And you know I don't care about any 'rising star.' I only have eyes for my **Maaal**."

She leaned in and gave me a **soft, sweet** kiss on the tip of my nose, then moved down to my lips, giving me a lingering, sugary peck that made me want to lose all my legendary control.

"Better?" she whispered, her breath warm against my mouth.

"Not even close, **Jaana**," I growled, but the edge was gone from my voice, replaced by pure adoration. I caught her chin between my fingers, tilting her face up. "You think a few sweet words and a kiss can make me forget about some guy sitting in your chair for four hours? I want a better bribe than that."

I leaned down, my nose brushing hers, mimicking our dance at the lakeside. I was **shamelessly flirting** now, the jealousy morphing into a deep, hungry playfulness.

"If you want me to let you go to that set tomorrow," I said, my voice dropping to a seductive whisper, "you have to promise me that every time he looks at you, you'll think about what we're going to do when you get home. Every. Single. Time."

She blushed a deep, beautiful crimson, her hands tightening on my shoulders. "You are impossible, Rudra."

"I'm yours," I corrected, capturing her lips again, this time with a slow, possessive heat that told her exactly how much I had missed her during those three years-and how I intended to make up for every lost second tonight.

I pulled back, looking at her dazed, happy expression. My **ocean blue eyes** were dark with a promise I intended to keep.

"Let's go home, **Ishi**. I'm done sharing you with the world for today."

💖 Ishita's Perspective:

Four months. It felt like both a heartbeat and a lifetime since the night Rudra marked my neck and claimed my soul by that hidden lake.

The world had officially exploded when the Rathore estate released our Roka portrait. My phone had nearly melted from the notifications. The "secret" was dead and buried; now, I was officially the **Future Queen of the Rathore Empire**. But while the world saw the glitz and the diamonds, the reality was a beautiful, exhausting whirlwind of long-distance longing and fierce, desperate reunions.

Life hadn't slowed down. If anything, it had accelerated. Rudra was managing two massive conglomerates now, often flying between London, New York, and Dubai. Meanwhile, my career had skyrocketed. Between my makeup studio and the high-end modeling contracts that started pouring in, I was barely home.

There were weeks where we couldn't even meet. Time zones became our biggest enemy. I'd be waking up for a shoot in america while he was closing a deal in Singapore.

But distance didn't make us grow apart; it made us **belong to each other even more badly**.

Right now, I was sitting in my dressing room in Milan, draped in a silk robe, staring at the **silver bangles** on my wrist. They were my anchor. No matter how many luxury brands I wore, these simple circles of silver reminded me of the man who was currently 4,000 miles away.

My phone vibrated. A FaceTime call. My heart did that familiar, violent skip.

I swiped the screen, and there he was. **Rudra**.

He was in his office, the skyline of New York visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him. He looked tired, his jaw shadowed with a bit of stubble, his charcoal suit jacket discarded. But his **ocean blue eyes**... they were as sharp and possessive as ever.

"You're still awake, **Jaana**," he said, his voice a deep, gravelly rumble that made my skin tingle even through a screen. "It's 2:00 AM in Milan. Why aren't you sleeping?"

"I couldn't," I whispered, leaning my chin on my hand, my eyes drinking him in. "I missed my **Maaal**. And I had a late fitting. How was the board meeting, **Ru**?"

"Tedious," he muttered, leaning back in his leather chair. His gaze swept over me, taking in my silk robe and my tousled hair. I saw his pupils dilate. "I'm surrounded by the most powerful people in the world, and all I can think about is how much I hate that I'm not the one taking that robe off your shoulders right now."

I blushed, the heat spreading down my neck. Four months, and he could still make me feel like a shy bride with a single sentence.

"I'm coming home in two days," I promised him, my voice soft. "The campaign is finished."

"Two days is too long," he groaned, his voice dropping to that low, seductive register. "I've spent the last week looking at your photos on every billboard in Manhattan. Every time I see you, I want to fly my jet to wherever you are and drag you back to Delhi. You look too beautiful, **Ishi**. The whole world is looking at what belongs only to me."

"They're just photos, **Ru**," I teased, though I loved his **jealousy**. It was proof that even with the world at his feet, he was still the same possessive man who hated when a "rising star" sat in my makeup chair.

"I don't care," he stated, his gaze intense. "I want the real thing. I want to feel your **tiny hands** on me. I want to hear those soft sounds you make when I kiss you. I'm done with screens, **Jaana**. I'm coming to pick you up from the airport myself. No security. Just me."

I smiled, blowing him a kiss. "I'll be waiting. I'll wear the **high heels** you like."

"Don't," he growled playfully. "Because you won't be standing for very long once I get you home."

I laughed, feeling that ache of love in my chest. We were busy, we were famous, and we were often apart-but every mile between us only proved that we were inseparable.

👑 Rudra's Perspective

I stood at the private terminal exit, ignoring the frantic whispers of the airport staff and the flashes of the paparazzi kept behind the barricades. I didn't care about the news tomorrow. I didn't care about "Royal decorum."

I had been without her for ten days. For a man like me, ten days without my **Jaana** is like ten days without air.

I checked my watch-**3:00 PM**. On time. My **ocean blue eyes** were scanned the arrivals gate with a predatory focus. I was dressed in a dark navy suit, no tie, top buttons open, looking every bit the "ruthless" Prince the media loved to hate. In my hand, I held a single, deep red rose-simple, classic, and the only thing I wanted her to see.

Then, the doors slid open.

There she was. My **Ishi**.

She looked like a dream even after a long flight-wearing a white oversized shirt tucked into tight jeans, her **long hair** messy but beautiful, and those **high heels** clicking against the floor. The second our eyes met, the world around us blurred into a gray smudge.

She didn't walk. She didn't wave.

She **ran**.

"**RU!**" she screamed, her voice full of that pure, sweet joy that belonged only to me.

I dropped the rose, opening my arms wide just a second before she launched herself at me. She **jumped**, her legs wrapping around my **tiny waist** and her arms locking around my neck in a death grip.

I caught her effortlessly, my large hands supporting her weight, my face burying itself in the crook of her neck. I breathed her in-jasmine, expensive perfume, and *her*.

"God, I missed you," I growled, my voice thick and raw, ignoring the gasps of the crowd around us. I didn't care that we were making a massive scene. I squeezed her so tight I felt her heart beating against my chest, in sync with mine.

"I missed you more, **Ru**," she sobbed-laughed into my shoulder, her grip tightening. "Don't ever let me stay away that long again. I hate Milan. I hate modeling. I just want you."

I pulled back just enough to look at her, my hands cupping her face. Her eyes were shimmering with tears, her **soft, nude makeup** slightly smudged from the flight, and she looked like the most beautiful thing I had ever owned.

"You're never going back for that long," I commanded, my thumb sweeping over her lower lip. "I don't care about the contracts. I'll buy the agencies and shut them down if it means keeping you in my sight."

"So possessive," she whispered, a cheeky, beautiful smile breaking through her tears. "Still my **jealous Maaal**, hmmm?"

"Always," I rasped.

"Let's go, **Jaana**," I murmured, my voice a dark, seductive promise. "The car is waiting,

She blushed a deep, delicious crimson, hiding her face in my chest as I carried her-still wrapped around me-toward the exit.

The Prince had his Queen back. And the world finally knew that when it came to Ishita, Rudra Singh Rathore had no limits.