"Lost in his love, she made him her world, where everything else faded into insignificance"
∞
Kriti Singhania, reluctantly returns to her homeland to fulfill her father's wish of becoming the CEO of his company. However, her life takes an unexpected...
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Aayansh's POV~
Her eyes, dark and endlessly curious, watched me. They always did.
I sighed and finally made the call, my fingers dragging a bit over the screen. The elevator felt even smaller now, not because of the space, but because of everything that had just happened between us.
Part of me wished we could stay in that moment, suspended in time, but Kriti had nudged me, bringing me back to reality, even when all I wanted was to stay lost in her.
I didn’t want to stop. But she pushed me gently, her eyes urging me to do the responsible thing. Reluctantly, I dialed the number, feeling like I was snapping the thread that held us in that intimate bubble.
The elevator being stuck felt way too good, way better than it had any right to. I didn’t care that we were stuck. In fact, I was glad for it. There was something almost too perfect about it.
Kriti was all I could focus on– her breath against mine, the way she pulled me closer, like neither of us wanted to break away.
I didn’t want it to end.
The elevator doors finally slid open. Kriti stepped out first, her calm composure masking the intensity of what had just passed between us while I followed right behind her.
But then I noticed the way the guys who had come to help us were staring– at her neck, of all places. The hickeys. The marks I’d left on her skin. Their gazes lingered for a moment too long, and it hit me like a spark of jealousy igniting a fire inside me. They didn’t need to be looking at her like that.
A surge of protectiveness took over, and before I even realized it, I was stepping closer to her. Wrapping my arm around her neck, I casually but deliberately covered the marks as we moved forward.
It wasn’t about hiding what had happened; it was about making it clear that she was mine, and no one had the right to look at her like that. Not at my girl.
As we walked ahead, leaving the elevator and their lingering stares behind, I could still feel the burn of jealousy simmering beneath the surface. She was my world, and I wasn’t about to let anyone think they had the right to gaze at her the way I did.
They were mine.
Her.
And the marks.
As I gently guided her forward, we stepped onto an open balcony that I had transformed for our special night. The air was cool but pleasant, a soft breeze carrying the subtle fragrance of roses.
Tall glass candle holders surrounded the table, their golden flames flickering gently in the evening breeze, casting a warm, ethereal glow around the space.
