"Am I hurting you Mishti? Does it hurt?"
He whispered against her lips and dug his nails deep into her waist by tightly clutching her close to him. She hissed in pain but her eyes never him thinking deeply about him and how a person change this much...
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'CS group of industries',
The atmosphere in his office was thick with tension as he paced back and forth, his frustration palpable. Anjana entered and started arranging his desk and files getting everything ready for the meeting, while doing so a folder fell from her hand and she tried to bend but sat on the edge of his nearby couch in his cabin, wincing slightly as she shifted her weight.
"Mrs. Rajvansh, why didn't you tell me about your injury?"
He demanded, while taking the folder and putting it on his desk, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and annoyance.
She sighed, looking down at her hands. "I didn't want to be an unwanted nuisance you, Sir."
He stopped pacing and knelt in front of her, his expression softening as he gently slid her saree to inspect the bruised area on her waist.
"You're never unwanted to me or let alone nuisance, Mishti," he said quietly, his fingers brushing against the bruised skin.
She flinched slightly but didn't pull away. "It's just a bruise, Sir. I'll be fine."
He shook his head, reaching for the first aid kit he kept in his office.
"This isn't just a bruise. You need to take care of yourself. Also, it's fine if you acknowledge your dear husband rather than to give attention to your grumpy boss."
She smiled and chuckled. He carefully applied ointment and dressed the wound. He couldn't hide his irritation.
"Why do you always push yourself so hard? You should be resting, not running around the office."
Anjana's eyes flashed with determination.
"Mr. Rajvansh, we agreed to keep things professional in the office. Here, you're my boss, not my husband. I can't let personal matters interfere with my work."
Hriday's hands stilled, and he looked up at her, frustrated and love mingling in his gaze.
"But you can't ignore your health, wife. Professionalism doesn't mean neglecting yourself."
She reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"I know, but I can handle this. I need to handle this."
He stood up, pulling her gently into his arms. "I just worry about you, that's all."
She unknowingly leaned into his embrace, her voice softening.
