Chapter 48 – The Angel in White

The mansion had finally gone quiet. Guests departed, laughter faded, and only the distant rustle of servants cleaning the halls remained. Poornima sat at her dresser in her room, removing her earrings slowly, her thoughts still replaying the events of the evening—the smoke, the ring, his touch, the kiss that had seared her cheek.

Her heart raced as the door clicked softly behind her. She turned slightly, but before she could rise, a familiar warmth wrapped around her from behind.

Veeresh.

He backhugged her, his presence overwhelming, his chest pressing firmly against her back. His arms enclosed her protectively, one hand resting heavy and sure on her shoulder, the other gripping her waist as if she might slip away. His lips brushed against her shoulder in a trail of slow kisses, feather-light yet consuming.

“You look like an angel,” he murmured, his deep voice vibrating against her skin.

Poornima closed her eyes, smiling softly. “Do I?” she whispered, her cheeks flushing.

Veeresh’s lips moved from her shoulder to the curve of her neck, then to her collarbone, leaving her breathless. His hand on her waist tightened, grounding her to him, making her feel every ounce of his claim.

“You know,” he whispered against her skin, pausing to kiss her again, “I chose this dress for you. I knew… it would be beautiful on you. Mrs. Raj.”

Poornima’s lips curved into a smile, her fingers brushing his hand where it rested firmly at her waist. The word Mrs. Raj echoed in her ears like music, filling her with warmth.

As she tilted her head slightly, Veeresh’s gaze fell on the delicate shine of the mangalsutra around her neck, peeking out from her gown. For a moment, he stilled. His hand reached forward, fingertips brushing the sacred thread. His eyes darkened with emotion. Proof. Mine.

Unable to resist, he pulled her closer, turning her gently to face him. Without hesitation, his lips found hers in a deep, passionate kiss—pouring out everything he had held back in front of the world.

“I love you,” he confessed between the kiss, raw and unguarded. His forehead pressed against hers, his breath mingling with hers.

Poornima’s heart swelled, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. She held his face with both hands, kissed him softly, and whispered back, “Love you too, Veer.”

In that moment, no mansion, no engagement, no looming threats—just the two of them, hearts beating together, bound by vows and desire, hidden yet unbreakable.