Kaizan is back #4
...before returning to her.
A knowing smile curved across his lips.
"So..."
he asked innocently.
"It was the catering..."
"...and definitely not these?"
He lightly tapped his own abs.
Devyani's face instantly turned crimson.
"I..."
"...You..."
"...Stop pointing!"
Rivan's grin widened.
"Oh."
"So I guessed correctly."
"I hate you."
"No."
He took another slow step toward her.
"You hate how handsome I am."
She immediately buried her face inside the blanket.
"Can the earth please swallow me?"
Her muffled voice echoed through the room.
Rivan laughed softly.
Then gently patted the top of her blanket-covered head.
"My adorable little liar."
From beneath the blanket came an offended mumble.
"...Go away."
"No."
"...Please?"
"I respectfully decline."
"...I really dislike you."
His smile softened.
"I know."
"...You still looked three times."
From inside the blanket came a tiny, defeated groan.
"But if you're that hungry, Devyani... you don't have to wait until marriage to take a bite."
Devyani gasped, hiding half her face behind the duvet.
"You are shameless! Absolutely shameless! Go away before I scream and tell maa you're harassing a helpless blanket!"
Rivan let out a soft laugh, his eyes warm and meltingly handsome. "Alright, alright, I'll spare the blanket. Goodnight, my beautiful, abs-obsessed fiancée."
Rivan finally let out a soft chuckle, stepping back from the blanket fortress and giving the top of her covered head one last, affectionate pat.
He lazily turned on his heel, strolling toward the open balcony doors.
"Well, since my soul has been thoroughly prayed away," he said, leaning against the doorframe and looking back at her with a devastating wink, "I shall take my leave. Goodnight, Kitten."
Before she could lower the blanket, he let his gaze trail over her, his smirk widening. "Though, I must say... I can see my sweet baby kitten is slowly turning into a wild kitten."
Devyani's face instantly exploded into a shade of crimson that would make a tomato look pale.
She threw a pillow at him with lightning speed. "Ufff! Yeh aadmi!" she shrieked, but her target was already gone.
With the smooth, practiced grace of an action hero, Rivan vaulted over her balcony railing.
It was a shortcut he had taken a hundred times a simple, effortless drop to the balcony directly below.
Except, in his post-romantic haze, his brain completely glided over one tiny, catastrophic detail.
The balcony directly below her room did not belong to a guest.
It belonged to his father.
On the floor below, Virendra Thakur was pacing his balcony, his phone pressed to his ear. He was in the middle of a high-stakes, multi-million-dollar corporate merger, his voice dripping with grave authority.
"Yes, tell the board that if they do not agree to the terms by nine tomorrow morning, we pull the funding—"
WHOOSH.
Virendra froze mid-sentence.
A human body had just dropped from the sky, landing in a perfect, silent, three-point superhero pose right on his expensive floor tiles.
Rivan slowly rose to his full height, dusting off his knees, his face a mask of supreme confidence.
He ran a hand through his hair, adjusting his collar to maintain his absolute, unbroken aura.
Virendra slowly lowered the phone from his ear. He stared at his son.
The silence stretched. It was the kind of silence that could choke a man.
Rivan didn't blink. He stood tall, folded his hands behind his back, and cleared his throat.
He had to save his aura. At all costs.
"Papa," Rivan said, his voice deep, calm, and utterly professional. "I was just... conducting a routine security check of the villa's perimeter verticality."
Virendra's left eyebrow began to twitch. "Verticality."
"Yes," Rivan nodded solemnly.
"The structural integrity of the balconies is top-notch. No intruders could easily climb up. Though, climbing down is remarkably efficient."
"Rivan," Virendra said, his voice dangerously quiet. "Did you just jump from my daughter-in-law's balcony?"
Rivan didn't miss a beat. "I was testing gravity, Dad. It is still functioning You'll be pleased to know the laws of physics are fully compliant with the Thakur family standards."
Virendra stared at his son for five agonizing seconds. He raised the phone back to his ear.
Virendra spoke into the receiver, his eyes never leaving Rivan's face. "Please add a new clause to the contract. It should state that the Thakur family is not liable for any sudden, gravity-induced brain damage suffered by its heirs."
"You dropped from the sky like a wet sack of potatoes, Rivan?" Virendra sighed, rubbing his temples. "Go to your room. Before I test the gravity of my shoe."
"Understood," Rivan said, offering a crisp, completely unnecessary military salute. "Securing the perimeter."
He walked off the balcony with his head held high, marching back into the house as if he had planned this grand entrance all along.
Before Virendra could fully recover his composure, the soft rustle of silk announced a new arrival on the balcony.
Yashodha stepped out into the cool night air, leaning against the glass doorframe with her arms crossed and a highly amused glint in her eyes.
She had witnessed the entire dramatic exit of their gravity-defying son.
"Uff..." Yashodha sighed, a teasing smile playing on her lips as she shook her head. "These boys in love, I tell you. Even gravity isn't allowed to stand in their way."
She slowly walked over to her husband, her anklets chiming softly against the cold tiles.
She stopped right beside him, looking out at the sprawling lawns before turning her gaze to him with a mock-pensive expression.
"We never got this kind of dramatic, balcony-jumping love, did we?" she taunted softly, nudging his arm.
"No one ever tested gravity for me."
Virendra, the feared patriarch of the Thakur family, a man who could silence a boardroom of cutthroat executives with a single glance, visibly gulped.
She was his second wife, a marriage that had come with its own set of rules, duties, and heavy expectations.
Yet, over the years, she had quietly and completely captured every single corner of his heart.
And he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she loved him just as deeply.
But that didn't stop her from holding absolute, terrifying power over him.
Virendra quickly ended his phone call, tossing the device onto a nearby table.
He cleared his throat, attempting to summon his formidable "Thakur aura," though it was rapidly disintegrating under her warm gaze.
"Yashodha," he began, his voice losing its boardroom sternness and softening into something much lower.
"I was a responsible man. If I had jumped from balconies, who would have run the empire?"
"Excuses, Mr. Thakur," she teased, stepping closer. "Pure excuses."
"Oh, really?"
A rare, tender smile broke across Virendra's face.
He stepped into her space, his large hand gently finding its way to her waist, pulling her a fraction of an inch closer.
The mock-sternness vanished entirely, replaced by a quiet, fierce warmth.
"If I recall correctly," he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, intimate hum, "I didn't need to jump from balconies to make you fall for me. I simply had to look at you."
Yashodha's breath hitched slightly, her teasing demeanor melting away as she looked up into his eyes.
Even after all these years, the sheer intensity in his gaze could still make her heart flutter like a schoolgirl's.
She rested her hands gently on his chest, feeling the steady, calming beat of his heart.
"Flattery won't save you from the fact that our son is an absolute lunatic, you know."
"He gets it from his father side," Virendra whispered, leaning down to gently press his lips against her forehead, holding the kiss there for a long, quiet moment as the cool evening breeze wrapped around them.
Yashodha let out a soft laugh, resting her cheek against his shoulder.