CHAPTER 5
Wadhwa Mansion – Next Morning
Karan came down the marble stairs, still furious at himself for the madness that had crept into him last night.
How could he touch her like that? And not just any woman, but Mishti Goel.
The name itself should’ve been his warning, his restraint.
Instead, he’d let his guard slip, his fingers had lingered on her skin, and the memory of her soft gasp still burned in his head like a curse.
He’d woken up seething; his anger directed at himself more than anyone else.
And since morning, every person in the mansion had borne the brunt of his bad mood.
The pancakes, his usual breakfast, suddenly tasted wrong.
Too sweet. The coffee, his favourite blend, was too sugary.
Even his grey suit hadn’t been “properly ironed,” though it looked flawless.
The help had scrambled to redo everything as he barked orders, his irritation brewing hotter by the minute.
Now, already late for work, his only plan was to escape the house without even glancing at her. But just as he reached the living area, he heard Maria’s voice.
“Ma’am, please don’t do this… Sir will scold us.”
Karan froze. So, she was in the kitchen? Disobeying him. Again.
He could have walked out. Ignored her. But curiosity and that strange, burning need to confront her tugged him in. He turned sharply and strode toward the kitchen to see what his wife was up to now.
Mishti stood by the counter in a soft pastel-pink cotton co-ord set, looking heartbreakingly feminine.
The top was half-sleeved, buttoned in front, the loose fabric tied in a small knot at her waist. Her hair was still damp, the ends dripping onto her shoulders.
As always, she looked like she belonged to another world, one untouched by bitterness.
She had plans of cooking as the kitchen counter was a mild chaos, with bowls, carrots, a whisk, and a pan heating on the stove. Maria stood nearby, wringing her hands nervously.
The moment Maria saw him, she stiffened and looked down.
“What’s happening here?” Karan scolded. “Didn’t I make it clear she’s not allowed to enter the kitchen?”
Mishti didn’t look at him.
Maria stammered softly, “I told her, Sir… but Ma’am didn’t listen.”
“I’m used to cooking,” Mishti said calmly, still stirring something in the bowl, “and I had nothing else to do. So, I decided to cook.”
He gritted his teeth. Of all things, she was cooking now?
“Maria, leave us,” he said without taking his eyes off Mishti.
Maria bowed her head and slipped out.
“No one disobeys my orders in this house, Mishti.” He said, stepping further inside.
“That changes from today. You haven’t hired a new house help. You married me. Unless your demands are logical, I don’t see why I should follow them.”
Her defiance once again burned hotter than any scream.
“I want to cook,” she continued, “and you cannot stop me.”
He stared at her, shock giving way to a dark flare of anger. No one had ever spoken to him like that. And coming from her, especially, got under his skin.
He was about to close the distance between them when she turned away from him, walking to the corner towards a small ladder.
She wanted powdered sugar, which Maria said was on the top shelf. She climbed the small steps gracefully.
His gaze darkened as she rose higher. The hem of her top lifted slightly, revealing a sliver of skin at her waist, as she raised her arms to open the shelf.
Karan clenched his fists, forcing his eyes away.
“Who’s going to eat what you cook?” he muttered. “Not me.”
She didn’t even turn.
“I’ll eat,” she said simply. “Maria will eat. The entire staff will eat. You’re welcome to avoid it.”
That last line hit his pride. This woman was driving him insane, and the worst part was, she didn’t even know it.
With his temper burning, Karan stormed toward the ladder.
Mishti had already reached the top, one hand carefully pulling down the tin of powdered sugar.
But before she could climb down, he reached there with such a force that the moment his leg brushed the side of the ladder, it wobbled dangerously.
Mishti gasped, clutching the tin tightly, but it was too late.
The lid came loose. A flurry of powdered sugar burst into the air like snow, raining down on both of them.
It sprinkled through his hair, across the sharp lines of his suit, dusting his shoulders and expensive shoes in a soft white haze. But that was not it. Even Mishti lost her balance in the chaos and stumbled forward, straight into him.
Karan was quick enough to catch her instantly.
His one arm locked around her waist, while the other braced her back.
When her palms landed against his chest, his heart thudded violently beneath her touch.
The scent of sugar, her freshly washed hair, and the faint warmth of her skin wrapped around him like sin.
Once again for a moment, the world narrowed to that one forbidden closeness. The sweetness between them hung heavy, sticky, and tempting.
A smile curved her lips as she saw him. “No matter how much you dislike sweetness…” she murmured, “…it always finds you. You cannot escape from Mishti’s sweetness, Mr Wadhwa.”
Her words should have brought him to reality. But instead, his gaze fell on the powdered sugar that clung to the corner of her lips, and his hand almost rose on its own accord to brush it away.
Almost.
But that was when the voice came.
“Hi, lovebirds.”
Rajat’s teasing tone broke their spell. Karan’s fingers stilled mid-air before he straightened sharply and stepped back, pushing Mishti away, not harshly, but enough to regain his distance. Mishti steadied herself, her face flushed as she turned to see Rajat and Kanika standing at the doorway.
Although Rajat looked happy, Kanika looked like she’d stepped on glass.
Karan’s eyes narrowed. “What are you two doing here?”
Rajat grinned, clearly enjoying every second. “Thank God we decided to surprise you, or we’d have missed this beautiful moment. And I liked what Mishti said. Her sweetness is all over you, buddy. Marriage suits you.” He winked.
Karan shot his friend a glare while Mishti tried to hide her blush, lowering her gaze. And in all this, Kanika’s silence was louder than words.
Rajat stepped closer, holding out a bouquet of yellow roses towards Mishti. “This is for you. Hope you heal soon. And with the way Karan’s caring for you…” He smirked at Karan, “I’m sure you’ll be fine in no time.”
Mishti smiled politely, accepting the flowers. Her gaze then flicked to Kanika, whose irritation was impossible to miss.
“Karan, we have that meeting with Saxena,” Kanika reminded curtly.
“I know,” he said, glancing at his watch. “And I’m already bloody late. Give me five minutes. I’ll change.”
His eyes met Mishti’s one last time before he turned and walked out. Kanika followed without another word.
As soon as they were gone, Mishti exhaled, glancing at Rajat. “Why did you bring her here? I don’t like her.”
Rajat chuckled. “Trust me, I don’t like her either. But I don’t have much choice. She’s Karan’s business partner.” He paused, grinning. “And my sister.”
Mishti’s jaw dropped. “She’s your…sister? Oh God, I’m so sorry!”
“It’s fine,” he laughed. “You are not the only one from my friends who has told me they don’t like my sister. Kanika crosses lines more often than you think. By the way, what were you making before our dramatic entry?”
“Gajar halwa,” she said softly, still embarrassed. “I thought I’d make it for Karan.”
Rajat’s eyes lit up. “It’s my favourite! Can you send some to the office later? I’ll make sure Karan gets a bite too, whether he likes it or not.”
“Deal.” Her lips curved into a faint smile realising that only Rajat could make sure Karan tasted the halwa.
******************
KW Capital Ventures
The afternoon meeting at KW Capital’s top floor was meant to be a routine review—numbers, projections, and a few key updates before the quarterly report went out.
Around the sleek oval table sat the core management team: the finance head, two analysts, the legal advisor, and Mr Rajeev Saxena, who was one of Karan’s senior partners.
For years, Saxena had been working for KW Capital and handling the finances.
Karan sat at the head of the table with his sleeves rolled up. The sharp lines of his suit did nothing to soften the tension radiating off him.
“Explain this mess to me, Saxena. The missing company funds, how the hell did this happen under your watch?”
Saxena straightened his tie, trying to appear unfazed.
“You’re overthinking it, Karan,” he said.
“These are just mere numbers. I’m sure there’s some mistake by the team.
I’ve been doing this long before you knew what a balance sheet was.
I have given so many profits every year to this company.
Maybe you should stop finding ghosts in numbers and start fixing your own personal headlines instead. ”
“What did you just say?” Karan’s jaw tightened.
“I said,” Saxena went on, his confidence swelling with arrogance, “there are already whispers about your marriage to Mishti Goel. You were supposed to destroy DG Group, not sleep with the enemy. Instead, you married his sister and are now busy saving their sinking company. How exactly does that profit KW Capital? How good a businessman does that make you?”
Karan’s patience snapped as he grabbed the paperweight from over the glass table and hit it on the floor.
His action even rattled the pen stand as he rose from his chair in fury and stalked toward Mr Saxena, who stood on the other side of the table.
Before the man could react, Karan’s hand fisted his collar, dragging him forward until their faces were inches apart.
“You forgot your place, Saxena,” he snapped. “My marriage isn’t up for your judgment. One more opinion about my personal life, and I’ll forget that we ever shared business. You’ll be out of this company before you can pack your overpriced suits.”