Epilogue #2
Ishani opened her mouth to respond when Raghav’s office door opened. He stepped out, drawn by the commotion. The crowd parted instantly, creating a clear path between them. His expression remained neutral, but his eyes burned with unmistakable possession as they fixed on her face.
“Is there a reason my entire staff is gathered here instead of working?” he asked, voice deceptively calm.
No one answered. No one dared move.
Raghav crossed the space in four decisive strides, pulled Ishani to her feet, and wrapped his arm around her waist in full view of everyone.
“Because if you’re discussing what I think you’re discussing,” he continued, eyes never leaving Ishani’s face despite addressing the room, “then yes. Ishani and I are engaged. Yes, I sent the gifts. Yes, I arranged for the puppy.” His voice dropped lower, intimate despite their audience.
“And yes, I’ve been in love with her since she corrected my figures during her interview. ”
The collective gasp was audible.
Ishani felt heat climb her cheeks—not from embarrassment, but from the raw honesty in his declaration. His arm tightened around her waist, anchoring her against his side.
“Now,” Raghav said, finally turning to address the stunned employees, “since you’ve all been so invested in our relationship, I have an announcement.”
The silence was absolute.
“Everyone receives a ten percent bonus in their next paycheck.”
For three heartbeats, no one moved.
Then the office erupted. People jumped from their seats. Someone whooped. Kavya clutched Samrat’s arm, both grinning. A junior analyst pumped his fist in the air.
Raghav raised his hand. The celebration paused.
“With one condition.”
The room held its breath.
“No more betting pools on my wife.” His voice carried possessive satisfaction. “I am the only one she belongs to.”
More cheering followed, this time with scattered applause.
Raghav didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he guided Ishani toward his office with firm pressure at her lower back, his focus entirely on her despite the commotion behind them.
He closed the door but didn’t lock it.
He walked Ishani to his chair. Then, he moved to the windows overlooking the executive floor—the glass walls that had separated them for months, the blinds that had concealed their stolen moments over the past week.
He grasped the cord and pulled.
The blinds snapped open.
Every employee could see them clearly now. No more secrets. No more hiding. No more pretending they were just boss and assistant.
“No more hiding,” Raghav said, his hand finding hers, fingers intertwining. “Let them see exactly who we are to each other.”
The symbolism wasn’t lost on their audience. Through the newly exposed glass, Kavya elbowed Samrat, both watching with undisguised interest. Ansh gave them a discreet thumbs-up. The rest alternated between staring openly and pretending not to look.
Raghav moved to the small kitchenette in the corner. He prepared coffee—no sugar, extra shot, exactly how she liked it. When he returned, he placed the cup on his desk in front of her.
The simple act of service carried weight beyond the gesture itself. He was the most powerful man in the city, arguably one of the most influential in the country. Yet he’d just served her coffee in full view of his employees.
The power dynamics shifted. Recalibrated. Found a new equilibrium.
“So, Boss,” he asked, voice low and rough as he leaned against the desk beside her. “What’s your first order?”
Ishani took a sip of the coffee and set it down. “Actually, I think you forgot something.”
His eyebrow rose. “Did I?”
“The wedding planning.” She pulled out her phone, showing him a lengthy list. “Venue selection, guest list, menu tasting, photographer interviews—”
Raghav took the phone from her hands and set it aside. Then he pulled her to her feet, hands settling at her waist.
“I have people for that,” he murmured.
“Your mother has opinions about everything,” Ishani countered. “My mother wants input on the decorations. Your father keeps suggesting business associates for the guest list—”
“Let them handle it.” His thumb traced circles on her hip. “I only care about one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“That you show up.” His voice softened, losing its commanding edge. “That you walk down that aisle and choose me. Everything else is just... details.”
Ishani’s heart squeezed. Six months ago, she’d walked into his office to evaluate whether he was worth marrying. Now, standing in his arms, she couldn’t imagine choosing anyone else.
“I chose you the moment you offered me this job,” she admitted.
Raghav’s hands tightened at her waist. “I saw a woman who was too smart for her own good. Too confident. Too perfect.” He leaned closer, voice dropping. “And I knew I was in trouble.”
“Good trouble?”
“The best kind.” His forehead touched hers. “The kind I never want to escape from.”
Through the glass walls, the office continued around them. But in this moment, they existed in their own world—boss and assistant, CEO and evaluator, two people who’d found each other despite every obstacle.
“As if I would let you escape,” she tousled his hair playfully.
“Yes, Boss,” Raghav murmured against her lips, the words both surrender and promise.
And then he kissed her.
Not for show. Not for the watching employees. Not even for themselves.
But because he couldn’t not kiss her. Because she was his, and he was hers, and nothing else mattered.
When they finally pulled apart, breathless and smiling, the sunlight streaming through the open blinds bathed them both in gold.
Outside, Mumbai rushed on. Inside, Raghav and Ishani had found something rare and precious.
They’d found home.
In each other.