Veer Rajvansh x Dhriti Sharma
Veer Rajvansh, a 29-year-old businessman known for his cold demeanor and intimidating presence, has a reputation as a womanizer.
Despite his handsome looks and charming smile reserved for select individuals, he remain...
I woke up to the soft, rhythmic breathing of Ira beside me.
The room was still dim, with the first light of dawn barely creeping through the curtains.
I turned to the other side, half expecting to find Veer, but his side of the bed was empty. A glance at the clock confirmed it was 6:00 in the morning.
Carefully, I slipped out of bed, making sure not to disturb Ira.
As I went about my morning routine, my thoughts drifted to the day ahead.
Today, I decided to wear the pink cotton floral anarkali suit, the one I had been waiting for the right moment to wear.
It was simple yet beautiful, a reflection of something I had longed to embrace in myself.
Once dressed, I looked at myself in the mirror.
The soft pink fabric seemed to bring out a certain softness in my reflection, a delicate contrast to the storm that sometimes raged inside.
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Just as I was lost in thought, I heard the door click open behind me.
I turned, and there he was—Veer, drenched in sweat, his shirt clinging to him as if he’d been running or working out.
His eyes met mine, and for a brief moment, there was an unspoken exchange—a quiet acknowledgment of the day ahead.
"Ready?" he asked, his voice still a bit breathless.
I nodded, humming a soft affirmation, and he headed towards the washroom without another word.
It always puzzled me how people could ask if you're ready when you're clearly standing there, fully dressed, and prepared to face whatever the day brings.
Sometimes, I wished they’d notice the little things instead of asking the obvious.
With Veer in the washroom, I turned my attention back to Ira.
I sat down beside her and gently rubbed her hair.
"Baby, get up," I whispered, my voice soft and coaxing.
"Good morning, baby. Look, Mumma and Papa are getting ready for work."
Ira stirred slightly but refused to open her eyes.
I continued to rub her hair, my fingers gently untangling the soft strands.
"Baby, get up," I urged her again, my voice filled with tender affection.
"Don’t you want to go with Mumma today?"
Slowly, she rubbed her eyes, still half-asleep, and I lifted her into my arms.
