Stuck with the boss

Chapter-24 Some kind of an epilogue

Shreya's POV

A week after returning from the island, I officially discovered two things:

1. Married life is not what movies promised.
2. Reyhansh Singhania does not believe in letting a woman "sleep peacefully."

I shifted slightly in bed, stretching lazily, only to feel a very familiar weight pin me back down.

Again.

Not fear.

Just... routine.

A very expensive, annoyingly attractive routine.

"Wifey," Rey's voice came, dangerously close to my ear.

I sighed without opening my eyes. "If this is another 'good morning interrogation,' I swear I'll file a complaint."

He hummed. "You already complained last night."

My eyes shot open.

"EXCUSE ME?"

He looked completely unbothered, lying beside me like he had all the time in the world.

"I said," he repeated slowly, "you were very vocal about your appreciation of my efforts."

I grabbed a pillow and threw it at his face.

He caught it mid-air.

Of course he did.

"This is harassment," I muttered.

"This is marriage," he corrected calmly.

I narrowed my eyes. "There's a difference."

He leaned in slightly. "Not in my dictionary."

That stupid smirk.

That stupid confidence.

That stupid man.

And unfortunately for me... my stupid heart still reacted.

I turned away. "Move. I have dignity to maintain."

"You lost that the day you agreed to marry me."

I gasped. "I was emotionally manipulated."

He nodded. "And yet you signed the contract voluntarily."

I pointed at him. "That is not how love works."

Rey stretched slightly, completely relaxed. "For you it might not be. For me? Very structured."

I sat up. "You treat love like business deals."

He tilted his head. "No."

A pause.

Then, softer—

"I treat business like love."

That hit differently.

And I hated that it did.

⸻

Shreya's POV — Later that morning

Breakfast was peaceful.

Too peaceful.

Which, in Rey's house, is always suspicious.

He was scrolling through his phone, sipping coffee like he hadn't just emotionally confused me ten minutes ago.

I poked my toast.

"You're unusually quiet," I said.

He didn't look up. "I'm working."

"That's your excuse for everything."