The Rathore Mansion was quiet as Veeresh arrived home late that night. The soft echo of his footsteps alerted Poornima, who peeked from the kitchen.

“Dinner, Veeresh?” she asked softly.

Veeresh shook his head, his gaze sharp but calm. “Go freshen up first.”

Poornima nodded and went about helping him, watching quietly as he returned from the washroom, hair damp, suit neat but loosened at the collar. She served his dinner, placing the plates carefully in front of him.

Veeresh ate silently, the room filled only with the soft clink of cutlery. Yet his mind was elsewhere—he wanted something more than just a quiet meal. He wanted her here… every night.

Poornima noticed his thoughtful gaze and asked, softly, “Is there something you want to tell me?”

Veeresh set down his fork, eyes meeting hers with an intensity that made her shiver. His voice, firm and commanding, cut through the quiet.

“Wait for me every night for dinner,” he said. “We will have it together.”

Poornima’s eyes widened in surprise. The command in his tone, the unmistakable possessiveness—it left her speechless for a moment.

“…Alright,” she whispered, a small, shy smile tugging at her lips.

Later that night, she curled under the blanket, the day’s exhaustion catching up with her. But Veeresh didn’t move to his side immediately. He waited. Slowly, almost instinctively, Poornima snuggled close to him.

Veeresh’s instincts took over. He wrapped his strong arms firmly around her, holding her close, his hand resting protectively on her belly. The warmth, the closeness—it was comforting, grounding, and for the first time, Veeresh let himself surrender to the quiet intimacy.

In the stillness of the night, they drifted off to sleep—together, not just bound by promises, but by a slowly growing trust and care that neither could deny.