Ishita’s Perspective

I stood on top of my velvet vanity chair, teetering slightly on my heels just to reach his height. Even then, I was barely eye-level with him. Rudra stood there like a stone wall, his **6'3" frame** looking absolutely lethal in his bespoke **Eternity company** office attire. The  suit hugged his **muscular shoulders** perfectly, and his **fair skin** seemed to glow against the dark fabric.

But I wasn't looking at how "heavenly" he looked right now—I was on a mission.

"Chup rahiye na aap zara!" I huffed, holding a concealer palette in one hand and a blending brush in the other.

"Ishi, this is ridiculous," he grumbled, though he didn't move his head away. He was intentionally standing as straight as possible, making me stretch. "I am the CEO. I don't wear 'makeup.' If my brothers see a bit of foundation on my jaw, they’ll laugh for the next decade."

"And if they see a teeth mark from your wife, they’ll tease us for the next century!" I countered, leaning in close. I could smell his fresh aftershave—cold and crisp—mixed with the lingering heat of our morning. My **chooda clinked** rhythmically as I dabbed the cream onto the faint purple mark on his jaw.

"It’s a mark of honor," he whispered, his **ocean-blue eyes** dropping to my lips, darkening with that familiar, possessive glint. "Why are you so intent on hiding the fact that I belong to you?"

"Because I have some *sharam* (shame), even if you don't, *Patidev*," I muttered, concentrating on the blending. My **mangalsutra** swayed as I leaned forward, and I felt his large hands settle firmly on my waist to steady me on the chair.

"You're shaking, *Janna*," he teased, his thumbs grazing the silk of my suit, right where my **sore waist** still felt the ghost of his touch from last night. "Is the 'little makeup artist' getting nervous being this close to her husband?"

"I'm shaking because you're standing like a statue! Lean down a little!"

Instead of leaning down, he pulled me closer to the edge of the chair, forcing me to put my hands on his broad shoulders for balance. My **long, messy curls**—now half-tied—fell over my shoulders, and the **jingle of my payals** echoed in the quiet room.

"I’ll lean down," he rasped, his voice dropping into that dark, velvety register that always made my knees weak. "But only if I get a 'payment' for my cooperation. One kiss for every stroke of that brush."

"Rudra! We are already forty minutes late!" I gasped, trying to look stern, but the way his eyes were tracing my face made it impossible. "Maa must be waiting. Akshat bhai and Jay will have finished half the breakfast by now."

"Let them eat," he murmured, finally tilting his head just enough for me to finish the coverage. "They aren't the ones who spent the night conquering a queen."

I finally finished, blending the edges until his jaw looked flawless again. I stepped down from the chair with his help, my **heels** clicking on the floor. I looked him up and down—the perfect, cold-hearted businessman once again, except for the softness in his eyes that only I could see.

"There. Now you look like a CEO and not a... a victim," I teased, smoothing his lapels.

He caught my hands, his **engagement ring** catching the light alongside mine. "A victim? No, Ishi. I'm a willing captive. Now, shall we go down and face the music? Or do you want to hide in here for another hour?"

"Down," I said, taking a deep breath and adjusting my **dupatta** to make sure my own hickeys were completely buried. "But you stay close to me. If Jay starts talking, you stop him!"

"As you wish, my Queen," he smirked, offering me his arm.

The walk down the grand staircase felt like an eternity. I clutched Rudra's arm, my **heels** clicking softly on the marble, while my **payals and chooda** felt louder than usual in the morning silence. As we entered the living area, I realized my fears were right—everyone had finished breakfast.

**Akshat, Vardaan, and Jay** were lounged on the couches, looking suspiciously relaxed. Their wives, **Dhristi and Reet**, were there too, along with **Ahana**. The moment we stepped into the room, a heavy, knowing silence fell over them. Jay looked at his watch, then at Rudra, then at me, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. I quickly adjusted my **dupatta**, making sure every single mark was hidden.

Rudra, true to his "Cold-Hearted Prince" persona, didn't flinch. He led me to the dining table as if being an hour late was perfectly normal. He pulled out my chair first—a gesture that made Reet and Dhristi exchange a "look"—before sitting down.

Almost immediately, his phone buzzed. It was **Laksh**.

"Yes, Laksh. I want the Eternity merger files on my desk by noon," Rudra said, his voice deep and authoritative, his **ocean-blue eyes** turning sharp. "And tell the Rathor Company board that the Rajasthan project is non-negotiable."

I watched him as I sipped my juice. It was fascinating how he could switch from the man who was worshipping my skin an hour ago to the **Top 5 businessman** the world feared. But even while he talked billions with Laksh, his free hand reached under the table, finding my knee and squeezing it gently. It was a secret, possessive touch that sent a shiver through my **sore core**.

Suddenly, a heavy, rhythmic padding sound echoed on the floor. **Oscar**, our black tiger, slinked into the room. He was the feline version of Rudra—**cold, arrogant, and ruthless**. Most people in the mansion, even some of the staff, stayed clear of him. He carried the same "don't touch me" attitude as his father.

But as he reached the table, his demeanor shifted. He didn't growl; he didn't even look at the others. He came straight to me and **lay down beside my chair**, resting his massive, velvet head on my feet, right over my **jingling payals**.

"Look at that," Jay whispered from the couch, loud enough for us to hear. "The beast has been tamed by the beauty. Like father, like son."

Rudra didn't even look up from his phone, but I saw his jaw clench—the **concealer** I’d worked so hard on was holding up perfectly.

"Jay," Rudra warned, his voice low and dangerous. "If you have enough energy to talk, you have enough energy to head to the office and handle the warehouse logistics."

Jay immediately put his hands up in surrender, chuckling. I looked out toward the garden, where **Siya Maa, Bebe, and Urmila Chachi** were laughing together, enjoying the December sun. They seemed to be giving us our space, which I was grateful for, but I knew the "new bride" interrogation was coming soon.

I looked down at Oscar, then up at Rudra. Both were fierce, both were protectors, and both were mine.

"Eat, *Janna*," Rudra murmured, finally hanging up the phone. He leaned in, his voice for my ears only. "You need your strength. We have a long day... and an even longer night ahead of us."

I nearly choked on my paratha, my face heating up instantly.

I felt the trap snap shut the moment we stood up from the table. I had been so focused on hiding my hickeys and covering the bite on Rudra’s jaw that I completely forgot about the **nape of his neck**. As he turned to pick up his phone, the collar of his shirt shifted, revealing the sharp, red crescents—the marks of my **long nails** from when I was lost in the heat of his embrace last night.

Jay’s eyes turned into saucers. A slow, mischievous grin spread across his face, and I knew I was doomed.

"Oho! Bhai!" Jay shouted, leaning forward on the couch. "I knew the Rajasthan project was intense, but I didn't know you were fighting tigers in the boardroom! Those are some serious battle scars on your neck."

Akshat bhai let out a low whistle, Smirking as he leaned back. "Tigers? No, Jay. That looks like the work of a very specific, very angry 5'3" kitten. Rudra bhai, I thought you were the one who handled the 'hostile takeovers'?"

I felt the blood rush to my face so fast I thought I might faint. I clutched my **dupatta** tighter, my **chooda clinking** as my hands trembled. I looked at Rudra, begging him with my eyes to shut them down with his 'Cold Prince' glare.

But my husband? The man everyone fears? He didn't look angry. He actually leaned back, adjusted his sleeve to show a bit more of the scratches on his arm, and smirked.

"Well," Rudra rasped, his **ocean-blue eyes** dancing with a dark, playful fire as he looked at me. "When the Queen is in a mood, the King just has to... take it. Right, *Janna*?"

"Rudra!" I whispered-yelled, my face burning. "Shameless! *Aap sab pgl hain!*"

"Don't look at us, Ishu Bhabhi," Vardaan added, laughing as he stood up. "We aren't the ones coming down at 10:00 AM with 'nail art' on our necks. Bhai, I didn't know you were into such... high-intensity sports."

Before I could run away and hide in the cellar, the glass doors opened and **Siya Maa, Bebe, and Urmila Chachi** walked in from the garden. The atmosphere shifted instantly from brothers' teasing to motherly scrutiny.

"What is all this noise?" Bebe asked, her sharp eyes scanning the room until they landed on me. "Ishu? *Beta*, why are you so red? Are you feeling okay?"

"She's just a little... exhausted, Bebe," Jay chirped before I could speak. "Rudra bhai made sure she had a very *busy* night."

"Jay! *Chup kar!*" Siya Maa scolded, but the corner of her mouth was twitching. She walked over to me, her eyes softening. She noticed the way I was standing—slightly stiff because of the **pain in my core**—and the way I had wrapped my dupatta so high.

"Rudra," Siya Maa said, turning to her son with a mock-stern look. "I told you to take care of her. She’s delicate. Look at my daughter, she looks like she hasn't slept a wink."

"I took excellent care of her, Maa," Rudra replied, his voice a smooth, dark velvet as he stepped behind me. He wrapped his large hands around my **waist**, pulling my back against his hard chest. He leaned down, his breath tickling my ear. "In fact, I think she enjoyed my 'care' so much she didn't want to leave the room."

I closed my eyes, wishing the floor would swallow me. Urmila Chachi giggled, nudging Bebe. "Oh, let them be, Siya Bhabhi. . The Prince finally has his Princess. If there aren't a few marks and a late breakfast, then Rudra isn't a Rathor!"

"Haye! *Sharam karo*," Bebe laughed, patting my cheek. "Go, Ishi, go sit down. Rudra, leave her alone for five minutes so she can breathe."

"I can't, Bebe," Rudra teased, his grip on my waist tightening possessively. "She might bite me again if I let her go. I have to stay close for my own safety."

I stepped on his foot with my **heel**, making him let out a small 'umph' of a laugh. I turned around and glared at him, though my heart was doing somersaults. "I hate you," I mouthed.

"I love you too, *Janna*," he mouthed back, looking every bit the arrogant, satisfied lion.

I pushed Rudra’s chest with a small huff, finally breaking free from his possessive hold. My face was still flaming, but I composed myself as best as I could, bending down to touch the feet of **Siya Maa, Urmila Chachi, and Bebe**.

"Good morning," I murmured, my voice a shy whisper.

"Good morning? *Beta*, it’s almost lunchtime!" Bebe teased, blessing me with a hand on my head. "But looking at you, it seems the morning was very fruitful."

Before I could even respond, the atmosphere in the living room shifted. **Akshat, Vardaan, and Jay** stood up, and even **Ahana, Dhristi, and Reet** joined in. They started clapping their hands in a rhythmic beat, their faces glowing with mischief. Then, they began to sing together, their voices filling the grand hall:

> *"Mere Veer Ne Mere Veer Ne Viyahke Leyandi Ni Bhabhi Meri Hoor Wargi..."*

> (*My brother has brought home a bride who looks like a celestial beauty...*)

> *"Ohdi Chaal Na, Ohdi Chaal Na Kise Ton Jhalli Jandi Ni Bhabhi Meri Hoor Wargi..."*

> (*No one can handle her grace, her walk... my sister-in-law is like a fairy!*)

I stood there, frozen, my hands clutching my **silk dupatta**. The **jingle of my payals** felt like it was betraying me, dancing along to their song. They weren't just singing; they were circling me, admiring my **long, messy half-tied hair**, the **dark sindoor** in my parting, and the way I looked—a perfect blend of a new bride and a woman who had been loved thoroughly all night.

Jay winked at Rudra as he sang the line about my "graceful walk," knowing full well that I was walking a bit stiffly because of the **pain in my core**.

"She really is a *Hoor* (fairy), isn't she, Bhai?" Jay teased, nudging Rudra. "Look at her blushing. You’ve turned our fierce Ishita into a shy red rose."

I looked toward Rudra, hoping he’d stop them, but my **"Patidev"** was leaning against the marble pillar, his arms crossed over his **muscular chest**, watching the whole scene with an insufferable, proud smirk. His **ocean-blue eyes** were locked on me, devouring the sight of my embarrassment.

"She’s more than a *Hoor*, Jay," Rudra said, his deep voice cutting through the singing. He walked over to me, ignoring the cheers of his brothers, and tucked a stray curly lock behind my ear. His fingers lingered on my cheek, his touch possessive and warm. "She’s the heart of this house. And if anyone’s 'grace' is to blame for our being late, it’s mine for not being able to let her go."

"Haye! *Besharam!*" (Shameless!) Bebe said and Reet laughed, pulling me away from him. "Rudra Bhai, give us some space. We need to take our Bhabhi to the garden. You go to your 'Eternity' office and let us admire the beauty you’ve been hiding all morning."

"I'll go," Rudra murmured, leaning down one last time to whisper in my ear so only I could hear. "But I'm coming home early. That *Hoor* song gave me some very... interesting ideas for tonight."

I swatted his arm, my **chooda clinking** loudly, as the ladies led me away. I could hear the brothers laughing and Rudra’s deep, triumphant chuckle echoing behind us as he finally headed toward the door with Akshat and Vardaan.

👑 Rudra’s Perspective

I walked through the glass doors of **Eternity**, the air-conditioning instantly hitting me, but my mind was still back in that sun-drenched bedroom with the scent of rose soap and Ishita. This was the first time in my life I was walking into my own company late. Usually, I’m the one breathing down everyone’s neck at 7:30 AM. Today, it was past 10:30.

The staff went silent as I passed, their heads bowing in respect. "Good morning, Sir," echoed through the lobby. I didn't stop; I just gave a sharp nod, my stride long and confident.

**Laksh** was scurrying behind me, tablet in hand, rattling off the day's schedule. "Sir, the Japanese delegates are waiting in Conference Room B, and the merger files for The Rathor Company need your signature by—"

"I know, Laksh. Give me five minutes," I clipped out, pushing open the double doors to my private cabin.

I stopped dead. **Veer and Shiv** were lounged on my leather sofa like they owned the place. I turned back to Laksh, shooting him a look that clearly asked: *Why are these idiots in my office?*

Laksh looked at his feet, looking helpless. "I tried to stop them, Sir, but Veer sir said he’d fire me from a job I don't even have with him if I didn't let them in."

I waved Laksh off and walked to my desk, the heavy leather chair creaking as I sat down. I looked at my two best friends. Veer was grinning like a hyena, and Shiv looked equally amused.

"Kya bhai? Pehli baar tu late hai?" (*What, brother? Late for the first time?*) Veer teased, leaning forward. "Lagta hai Bhabhi achi seva kar rahi hai, hai?" (*Looks like Bhabhi is serving you well, huh?*)

I leaned back, my **ocean-blue eyes** narrowing. I thought of the **bite mark** on my jaw—hidden by Ishita’s makeup—and the way she’d looked in my shirt this morning. A dark, possessive pride flared in my chest.

"Kyun? Teri waali nahi kar rahi kya seva teri?" (*Why? Is yours not serving you?*) I countered smoothly, my voice a low, dangerous rumble.

Veer let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head. "Meri waali toh mujhse seva *karwati* hai, bhai! (Mine makes me serve *her*!) And she’s Ishita’s childhood friend—Aditi probably knows exactly why you’re walking in here with that smug look on your face. They’ve probably talked already."

I felt a muscle twitch in my jaw. The thought of Aditi and Ishita discussing our "private" time made me want to lock Ishi in the penthouse and throw away the key.

"They’re friends, Veer, not business partners," I said, opening my laptop to end the conversation. "And if I find out you’re pumping my wife for information through Aditi, I’ll make sure your next construction project gets tied up in red tape for a decade."

"Oho! Look at the 'Cold Prince' getting protective!" Shiv laughed. "Relax, Rudra. We’re just happy to see you finally looking... human. Though, I have to ask... did she actually bite your jaw, or is that just some very expensive concealer I see?"

I froze, my hand hovering over the keyboard. *Damn that girl and her makeup skills.*

I leaned back in my chair, the tension from the morning's "battle" with Ishita still lingering in my muscles. I watched Shiv—the usually composed, calm one of our trio—looking uncharacteristically stressed.

"Shiv," I said, my voice dropping into that low, authoritative tone I usually reserved for board meetings. "Tu shaadi kab kar raha hai apni waali se? (When are you marrying your girl?) Or are we going to be grandfathers by the time you finally make a move?"

Veer chimed in, pointing a finger at Shiv. "Exactly! Look at Rudra. He went from 'Love is a waste of time' to 'I’ll burn the world for Ishita' in record time. Even I’m settled. Tu kab line pe aayega?"

Shiv groaned, running a hand through his hair, looking genuinely frustrated. "Yrrr... uska baap maanta hi nahi! (Her dad just doesn't agree!) I’ve tried everything. Business proposals, being a 'good boy,' even showing him my bank balance. Nothing works. Utha loon kya usey?" (*Should I just kidnap her?*)

I let out a dark, short laugh, the sound echoing in the silent office. "Kidnapping? Careful, Shiv. That’s more Krishiv’s style than yours. And believe me, taking a girl away from her father is the easy part. Handling her when she’s angry? That’s where the real challenge starts."

"Bhai is speaking from experience!" Veer teased, howling with laughter. "He tried to keep Bhabhi away, and look at him now—wearing concealer on his jaw and skipping the gym to watch her sleep. If you kidnap her, Shiv, make sure you have a soundproof room and a very high pain tolerance."

"Shut up, Veer," I muttered, though a smirk was tugging at my lips. I looked at Shiv. "If her father is the problem, let me know. I can buy his company, his house, and his loyalty by tomorrow morning. But if you 'lift' her, do it with some class. No Rathor or his friends should ever be sloppy."

"Class? Bhai, I’m desperate," Shiv sighed, leaning his head back. "I saw how you looked when you came in today. You look... satisfied. I just want to be able to wake up late without my phone blowing up with her father’s threats."

"Satisfaction has a price, Shiv," I said, my mind wandering back to the way Ishita had clutched her **abdomen** and winced this morning. "It takes a lot of work to keep a woman like that happy. But," I added, my **ocean-blue eyes** turning serious, "it's the only work worth doing."

Veer stood up, clapping Shiv on the shoulder. "See? Our Prince has become a philosopher. All because a 5'3" girl decided to use him as a chew toy last night."

I picked up a heavy glass paperweight from my desk, weighing it in my hand as I looked at Veer. "One more word about my wife, Veer, and Aditi is going to be wondering why her husband has a 'meeting' in the hospital."

"Okay, okay! I'm going!" Veer laughed, heading for the door. "Shiv, let’s go. Let the man work so he can earn enough to buy Bhabhi more diamonds to distract her from his 'arrogant' behavior."

I leaned forward, a dangerous glint in my **ocean-blue eyes** as I pointed a finger at both of them. "Ruko saalo," I commanded. (*Wait, you idiots.*)

Veer froze, and Shiv turned around with a theatrical gasp. "Kyu bhai? Tere saale kya kam pad gaye jo hume apne saale bana raha hai?" (*Why brother? Do you have so few brothers-in-law that you're making us yours?*) Shiv joked, referring to Ravi and the rest of Ishita’s family. "Ishita Bhabhi hai humari, behen nahi!"

"Abe baith na," I muttered, gesturing to the chairs. (*Just sit down.*)

They both sat, sensing my tone had shifted from banter to something more personal. I cleared my throat, leaning back in my leather chair. "Soch raha hoon New Year pe Ishi ko honeymoon pe le jaaoon." (*Thinking of taking Ishi on a honeymoon for New Year.*)

Immediately, both of them let out a loud, synchronized whistle.

"Oho! Prince is finally taking a vacation?" Veer teased. "Any specific place in mind?"

"Paris," I said, my voice softening just a fraction. "Uski number one favorite dream place hai." (*It's her number one dream place.*)

"And the second?" Shiv asked, leaning in curiously.

I let out a long, heavy sigh, rubbing the bridge of my nose as I thought about the posters and the music she sometimes played when she thought I wasn't listening. "South Korea. She’s obsessed with... BTS."

The office erupted. Veer and Shiv didn't just laugh—they nearly fell off their chairs.

"Sukkar mana usne shaadi kar li tujhse!" (*Be thankful she actually married you!*) Veer wheezed, clutching his stomach. "Bhai, look at you—6'3", muscular, cold-hearted Prince... and your competition is a group of pretty boys from Seoul!"

Shiv wiped a tear from his eye, looking at me with genuine pity. "Bhai, Korea toh na leke jaiyo bilkul bhi. Varna tu akela hi honeymoon manayega. (Brother, don't take her to Korea at all. Otherwise, you'll be celebrating the honeymoon alone.) She’ll be busy chasing those guys, and you’ll be standing there holding her shopping bags."

"Exactly!" Veer added. "Tu wahan 'Arrogant CEO' wala look dega, and she’ll be busy doing those finger-heart things. Paris is safe, Rudra. Stick to the Eiffel Tower. It’s taller than those singers, at least."

I glared at them, though a part of me knew they were right. I could imagine Ishita dragging me to some themed cafe, her **chooda clinking** as she pointed at photos of those boys, while I stood in the corner in my three-piece suit looking like a dark cloud.

"I can buy the stadium they perform in," I growled, my possessiveness flaring up even at the thought of her admiring someone else.

"Paisa doesn't work there, Bhai! Love works!" Shiv laughed. "And right now, your only advantage is that you're the one she bit this morning. Stick to Paris. Keep her in a silk robe, in a high-rise suite overlooking the Seine, and make sure she forgets Korea even exists."

I tapped my pen against the desk, my mind already drifting to the image of Ishita in Paris—wrapped in woolens, her nose red from the cold, clinging to my arm.

I leaned forward, my expression turning dead serious as I pointed a warning finger at Veer. "Aur sun Veer, tu Aditi ko kuch mat bolna. (And listen Veer, don't tell Aditi anything.) Otherwise, she’ll spill everything to Ishi. Bhai, keep your wife away from her phone today."

Veer chuckled, but nodded. "Don't worry, Rudra. If Aditi find out you're planning Paris, Ishita will know before you even book the tickets. Girls have their own underground news network."

Shiv leaned back, a wistful look on his face. "Yrrr... tera honeymoon soch kar mujhe bhi jaane ka mann kar raha hai yrrr." (*Thinking about your honeymoon makes me want to go too.*)

"Toh kar le na shaadi!" Veer pushed, grinning. "Tu bol toh main help karoon teri Tanya ko bhagaane mein." (*Just get married! Say the word and I'll help you elope with Tanya.*)

Shiv blinked, looking genuinely confused. "Tanya kaun?" (*Who's Tanya?*)

I stared at him, deadpan. "Abe saale, teri girlfriend!" (*You idiot, your girlfriend!*)

Before Shiv could even process that, Veer jumped in, eyes wide. "Abe kitni hain teri? (How many do you have?) You don't even remember her name?"

Shiv rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. "Are yrr... I call her 'Baby' na, toh main naam bhul gaya. Sorry." (*I call her Baby, so I forgot her name.*)

I let out a disgusted snort, leaning back in my leather chair. "Main apni wali ko 'Janna' bolta hoon, par uska naam nahi bhulta. Saale, kaisa pyar hai tera?" (*I call mine 'Janna,' but I don't forget her name. What kind of love is yours?*)

The thought of ever forgetting Ishita’s name was impossible. It was etched into my soul, just like her marks were etched into my skin.

Veer started counting on his fingers, looking proud. "Main toh apni wali ko Sweetheart, Sona, Janu, Love..."

"Ooo bhai... bas kar!" I cut him off, holding up a hand. "Itne kaafi hain." (*That's enough.*) "If I used that many names, Ishi would think I’m hiding something and probably bite my other jaw just to be sure."

The cabin was filled with the sound of our laughter—the kind of raw, honest brotherhood that had kept me sane during the three years she was gone. I looked at the time; it wasn't even noon, and I already wanted to head back to the Rathor mansion.

"Anyway," I said, my voice turning business-like again as I stood up. "Paris is final. Private jet, the penthouse suite at The Peninsula, and no BTS allowed within a five-mile radius of my wife."

"Spoken like a true Prince," Shiv laughed, standing up with Veer. "Go book it, Rudra. Before she discovers a new K-Drama and decides she wants to go to Seoul instead."

I stood up, adjusting the cuffs of my charcoal blazer, feeling a surge of energy that had nothing to do with the espresso on my desk and everything to do with the woman waiting for me at home.

"Okay, chalo tum dono niklo ab," I said, waving them toward the door. "Mujhe apni Janna ko surprise dena hai." (*Now get out, you two. I have to give my Janna a surprise.*)

Then, without even thinking—maybe because her bubbly personality was finally bleeding into my cold soul—I did something I never do. I actually swayed a bit and hummed a playful tune, mimicking the way Ishi sang when she was happy, my voice almost a sing-song.

Veer and Shiv froze mid-step. They looked at each other, then back at me, their jaws literally dropping. The silence lasted exactly two seconds before the cabin erupted.

"AHHHH! OYE!!" Veer screamed, clutching his head like he’d seen a ghost.

"RUDRA SINGH RATHOR IS SINGING?!" Shiv roared, jumping up. "Bhai, someone call the news! The iceberg is melting! The stone is bleeding music!"

"Abey, did you guys hear that?!" Veer was practically dancing with joy. "He did the 'Janna' thing with a melody! Ishita Bhabhi hasn't just tamed him, she’s turned him into a Bollywood hero!"

I felt the heat creep up my neck—the only part of me Ishi hadn't covered with makeup. I quickly cleared my throat, my face hardening back into its "Cold Prince" mask, though the effect was ruined by my dancing eyes.

"Get out," I growled, pointing at the door. "Now. Before I make sure neither of you can sing for a month."

"We're going! We're going!" Shiv laughed, backing away while holding his phone up. "I wish I had recorded that. I could have sold it for billions. The 'Cold-Hearted Prince' of Rajasthan is officially a 'Lover Boy'!"

"Bhai, seriously," Veer said, pausing at the door with a smirk. "If you start doing those slow-motion dance moves in the rain, please give us a warning. Our hearts are weak."

"OUT!" I barked.

They scrambled out, their laughter echoing through the hallway of **Eternity**, making every employee outside jump in surprise. I slammed the door shut and leaned against it, a small, genuine smile breaking across my face.

I pulled out my phone and dialed my private travel coordinator. "I want the 'Grand Signature Suite' at The Peninsula Paris. New Year’s Eve. Everything must be white roses and silk. And find out if there are any... 'BTS' events in Europe that week. If there are, reroute my jet to the opposite side of the continent."

I hung up, feeling a dark, possessive satisfaction. I didn't care if the guys teased me. If being "crazy" meant seeing Ishita’s brown eyes light up when she saw those tickets, I’d sing every damn song in her playlist.