Ahana
"Duggu bara bore ho rhaa hai bachaa," I whispered, wrapping my arms around him on the sofa as I curled against his warm body.
(Duggu, I'm feeling really bored, baby.)
But he remained quiet, lost in deep slumber. "This Duggu is more like a husky… how can a wolf sleep this much?" I muttered with a little pout, my fingers absentmindedly brushing through his fur.
Duggu be like—Mumma, only if you knew the ordeals I go through at night when you’re peacefully asleep… huh.
Reluctantly, I pushed myself up, rubbing my eyes as I glanced at the clock. Only 1 p.m. "Aastik ji ke aane mey abhi bhi itna waqt baaki hai," I murmured under my breath, boredom prickling at me.
("There’s still so much time left for Aastik ji to come home.")
I was playing with the cushion, my lips unknowingly formed a pout but soon it got replaced by a grin when a sudden idea lit in my mind. "The plan is good… bas daant na pade," I whispered, unable to hold back the cheeky smile tugging at my face.
(The plan is good…I just hope not get scolded.)
Without wasting a second, I dashed to our room. Sliding open the wardrobe, my hand reached for the dark blue saree that shimmered just enough to look regal yet effortless. Draping it carefully, I paired it with matching blue bangles whose soft chime echoed against my wrist. A touch of kohl, a hint of blush, and a nude shade on my lips—just enough to brighten my face without overdoing it.
Casting a side glance at the watch, I smiled, "Yup… on time."
Then I hurried downstairs into the kitchen, neatly packing a lunch with his favourites dishes for lunch, being extra careful not to spill anything or make a mess. Once I was done, I stepped out, and before leaving, I bent down to my still half-asleep baby, kissed him gently on the head, and then headed outside.
But of course, it couldn’t be that simple. Like a fortress, his bodyguards immediately formed a barrier in front of me.
Sighing, I lifted the lunchbox slightly as proof. "Bhaiya, mujhe unke office tak hi jaana hai. Dekhiye, I’ve packed lunch for us… toh can you please accompany me instead?" My tone carried both persuasion and innocence.
(Bhaiya, I just need to go to his office. Look, I’ve packed lunch for us… so can you please accompany me instead?)
The men exchanged glances, their eyes conversing silently, and then one of them replied with utmost respect, "Yes, ma’am, please follow us." Their professionalism was rigid, but there was also a trace of warmth in their voice.
With nervous excitement fluttering in my chest, I stepped into the car and settled into the back seat. Each minute of the twenty-minute ride only deepened the anticipation.
When we finally arrived, one of them opened the car door for me. I stepped out, my gaze instantly lifting to the massive empire before me. A proud smile tugged at my lips, admiration swelling in my heart.
"Bas, yahan tak hi," I instructed softly, requesting them to stay back. "I don’t want too much attention."
Gathering my composure, I walked ahead. The moment I entered, my eyes widened slightly. The interior gleamed with refined elegance—modern furnishings, polished marble, and every corner exuding an air of luxury and authority.
I walked up to the receptionist’s desk and cleared my throat. "Umm… excuse me, can you tell me on which floor Aastik Malhotra’s office is?"
Without even lifting her eyes from the computer screen, she replied, "Do you have an appointment, ma’am?"
"No, actually—" I began, but she cut me off almost instantly.
"Ma’am, please make an appointment before coming. It’s the basic thing you need to know," she said, rolling her eyes, her voice dripping with irritation.
"Just listen to me once—" I tried reasoning with her, but she didn’t even bother hiding her disdain.
"Look mam, if you don’t have an appointment, there’s no point standing here. Kindly leave, as you can see I'm really busy right now" she replied.
That was it. My patience snapped. Anger simmered in my chest, rising like fire. Is this how they treat visitors? Today it’s me, tomorrow it could be someone else. A company’s reputation can shatter with this kind of arrogance.
I slammed my palm against the desk, the sound echoing across the lobby. "I’M TALKING TO YOU, DAMN IT!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, doing exactly what I had promised myself not to—drawing every pair of eyes toward me.
"Is this the way you treat people who come to visit?" I spat, my voice filled with rage yet it held a kind of authority in it. My glare fixed on her as the murmurs around us began to rise.
She flinched at the sharp slam, finally raising her head from the computer.
"Is this the way you carry your work? Do you behave like this with every visitor?" I demanded, my glare pinning her down. She shifted uncomfortably, the fear flashing in her eyes, but her voice tried to stay steady.
Gulping, she replied, "Excuse me, ma’am, you can’t teach me how to work. And who are you to question me? You don’t even have an appointment. Arguing with you is the last thing I want."
I tilted my head, a bitter laugh escaping. "Oh, really? You don’t know, right? You’ll know now."
Without wasting a second, I pulled out my phone, my glare never leaving her face.
Her voice rose, a note of panic breaking through. "Ma’am, why are you trying to create a mess here?"
I pressed the phone to my ear, waiting for the call to connect. My tone was icy, cutting through the tension. "Aren’t you the receptionist? Guiding visitors, helping them, talking politely — isn’t that your job? And instead, you just handed me disrespect."
The line clicked. His voice came, deep and familiar. "Hello, sweetheart. Is everything all right?"
Relief rushed through me, but my irritation burned hotter. "Nothing is okay. Come to the reception of your office. Right now." I cut the call before he could say another word.
My eyes locked back on the receptionist. She squirmed under my glare, biting her lip, her earlier arrogance cracking.
And then, from behind me, a man’s voice called out, surprised. "Ma’am… you here?"
I turned and saw an unfamiliar man in a crisp suit staring at me with shock.
Confused, I asked, "Who are you?"
He quickly composed himself and bowed slightly. "Oh—I’m so sorry for the late introduction. I’m Arjun Khurana, Aastik sir’s assistant."
A ripple of gasps spread through the reception. Of course, his personal assistant bowing to me was enough to stun them.
"Nice to meet you, Arjun. I’m waiting here for your boss," I replied with a small smile.
"Why, ma’am? Did you face any problem?" he asked, scanning the room sharply.
"Yes. A big problem," I said, turning my gaze toward the receptionist. Her head was bowed now, trembling in fear.
"Who was it? What happened here? Do you people even realize who she is? She’s—"
Before Arjun could finish, a deep voice boomed from behind.
"Sweetheart."
A smile came on my face hearing the voice as I quickly turned back to face him. There he was walking towards me with long strides and in an instant he stood before me enveloping me in his arms.
"I was surprised when you asked me to come downstairs baby" he said pecking my temples.
I melted in his arms smiling widely, "well I had to come one day" I said pulling a little back looking at him, "at the end, I'M MRS AHANA AASTIK MALHOTRA"
Silence fell like a curtain. The entire reception froze, and the receptionist’s face drained of color.
I broke the hug now gently and raising my brows I said, "Aastik ji, you know what they say—the first impression is the last impression."
"Of course, sweetie, I know. Why? how was your first impression of this empire?" he teased, tugging my cheek playfully.
"Bad." My tone was sharp.
His fingers stilled, his expression darkening. "Why? Did something happen?"
"Yes. And you should know who you appoint for such a crucial post. When I came in, this girl"—I pointed at the receptionist—"misbehaved with me. She said…"
I narrated everything, word by word.
"Today it’s me. But tomorrow it could be someone else. How could she behave so rudely?" I demanded.
Aastik ji's aura shifted instantly, from gentle husband to dangerous boss taking over. His eyes cut to the receptionist. "What am I hearing, Miss Sharma?"
The girl broke down, folding her hands as tears spilled. "S-sir, I’m sorry. I didn’t know she was your wife." Then she turned desperately to me. "Ma’am, please… if I had known it was you—"
I cut her off coldly. "So what? You’d have behaved nicely only because I’m his wife? Why? Shouldn’t you treat every person with basic respect first—before looking at their power, position, or relationship? Every individual deserves that. But you were rude. Absolutely rude."
Aastik ji's eyes softened as he looked at me. "What do you want me to do with her, sweetie?"
The receptionist collapsed to her knees, sobbing. "Ma’am, please… I really need this job. I’ll never repeat this mistake. Please forgive me."
I stepped back, startled by her sudden act, and then steadied myself. Gently, I placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Realizing your mistake is important and you did it. But trust… trust is hard to win back. So, Aastik ji, remove her from the receptionist post. But let her continue working here. Give her one last chance, just not at the front desk."
"As you wish," he said, his eyes never leaving mine. Then, with a subtle glance at Arjun, the matter was sealed. Arjun nodded and escorted the girl out.
"And the rest of you! The show is over — get back to work," His voice thundered across the lobby.
The employees scrambled back to their desks like terrified schoolkids caught cheating. His glare alone was enough to make them move as if their lives depended on it.
I had to bite my lip to stop a laugh. Poor souls. Next time I’ll remind him to spare them at least a little mercy.
His eyes softened the moment they found me again. "Come," he said, his tone gentle now, "let’s go to my cabin."
I nodded, and we walked together toward the lift.
"Is this your personal one?" I asked as the doors slid shut.
He gave me that boyish smirk. "Yup, sweetheart. Till now it was mine… from today, it’s ours." Before I could react, he tugged me playfully closer.
"Kya kar rahe ho, chhodiye na," I said, half smiling, half pretending to be annoyed.
(What are you doing!! Leave me na)
He leaned in, lowering his voice. "You know it takes a while to reach the 40th floor…"
"So?" I arched a brow. "Aapki badmashi shuru ho gayi?"
(Your mischief started again?)
He chuckled, taking a slow step toward me. "Sweetheart, ab tum aur main lift mein akelay ho… badmashi toh hogi hi."
(Sweetheart, now you and I are alone in the lift… mischief is bound to happen.)
I moved back quickly, pointing a finger at him. "Dekhiye… zyada paas mat aaiye."
(Look... Don't come too close)
"Paas aane toh do pehle," he murmured, closing the distance even more.
(Let me come close first)
I took another step back but then my back hit the wall of the lift. My breath hitched as his arms caged me in.
"Now you can’t run, sweetie," he whispered, eyes locked on mine.
"If you behave like this, then… then… then I’ll—"
"Say something after then too, sweetheart. I’m waiting," he teased, pressing a quick kiss on my cheek.
"You—"
Another kiss landed on the other cheek.
"Aastik—"
This time, his lips brushed my forehead.
"Ji,"
He leaned closer, his breath grazing my lips. "Boliye… Aastik ji ki sweetheart."
I sucked in my lower lip, narrowing my eyes at him. "Flirtbaaz ho aap."
(You're such a flirt)
"Sirf aap ke liye," he murmured, stealing a gentle kiss on my upper lip.
(Only for you)
"Badtameez ho aap," I smiled, trying to sound annoyed.
(You're very naughty)
"Sirf aap ke liye," he whispered again, this time kissing my lower lip.
(Only for you)
Our breaths mingled, warm and unsteady. The closeness held a pull of its own—soft, magnetic, irresistible.
"Itne acche kyun ho aap?" I asked, pouting playfully.
(Why are you so good?)
He chuckled, his answer the same, steady and sure. "Sirf aap ke liye."
(Only for you)
My eyes fluttered shut, giving him the permission he was waiting for. Our lips finally met in a tender and perfect way but only for a second. The sharp ‘ting’ of the lift broke the moment.
I quickly pushed him away, fumbling with my saree and hair, worried someone might see us, and hurried out of the lift.
"Don’t be shy, sweetheart," his voice curled around me as his arms slipped around my waist from behind. "This entire floor belongs to me. No one dares step here without my permission. It’s just you and me."
"Huff," I exhaled in relief. "Thank God… I got so embarrassed for a second."
"You don’t need to be embarrassed," he leaned closer with that mischievous smirk. "Remember what you told Ishani at that party? That if you asked me to kiss you in front of a room full of people, I’d do it? Well, you know I won’t hold back if you ask. I’ll gladly eat your lips, suck them, lick them, soothe them and—"
Before he could go on, I slapped my hand over his mouth, my face burning scarlet.
"Aastik ji! Don’t you have even a little filter in your mouth?" I scolded, though my voice wavered.
He gently pulled my hand away, his eyes locked on mine. "When it comes to us, sweetheart, I don’t think any filter is needed."
"You’re seriously too much," I muttered, shaking my head—but the butterflies in my stomach betrayed me, fluttering like crazy.
"Okay, enough now. Let’s have lunch. See? I brought it for us." I quickly showed him the box.
"You still haven’t eaten?" he asked.
"No… I wanted to have it with you," I replied with a cheeky grin.
His expression softened instantly. "Fine. Let’s go inside and have it together."
I nodded and followed him.
The moment I stepped inside his cabin, my jaw literally dropped. It was the perfect mixture of luxury and elegance, easily the most beautiful part of the whole office.
"Wow… this is so aesthetic," I whispered, turning around to take in every detail.
"Thank you, ma’am. I’m glad you liked it," he said smoothly, pulling his chair out.
I walked towards the sofa and sat down, already unpacking the lunch.
"Why did you sit there?" he asked suddenly.
"Huh? Oh—I’m sorry. Maybe this sofa is for important guests… Where should I sit then?" I asked, glancing around nervously.
He walked over and held my hand. "Come here."
Confused but obedient, I followed him. He stopped at his chair, looked at me once, and gently pressed me down into it.
"A-Aastik ji… are you sure? This chair… it’s yours," I stammered, shifting a little uncomfortably.
"No, sweetheart," he corrected softly, his lips tugging into a smile. "It’s ours."
My heart fluttered at his thoughtfulness. Smiling, I quickly started serving lunch. I handed him his plate, and soon we were eating together—laughing, teasing, throwing in little jokes here and there.
"Waise… Aastik ji, ek baat puchu?" I asked, watching him carefully as he focused on the matar paneer with full concentration.
(By the way… Aastik ji, can I ask you something?)
"Hm? Haan, pucho," he mumbled between bites.
I hesitated firstly but then finally let it slip. "The damage my brother caused… is that taken care of?"
For a moment, his hand froze mid-bite. His eyes dropped to his plate. "Y-yeah… it’s all good now," he answered, his voice low—avoiding my gaze, as if he didn’t want me to read what was really there.
My chest tightened, but I didn’t push him further. I simply nodded and continued eating quietly.
We finished our lunch in silence. The air held a faint tension, but neither of us chose to speak about it.
"Sweetheart," he finally broke the quiet, "will you stay here for three hours? Then we can return together. Or… do you want to go right now?"
"Umm…" I tapped my chin thoughtfully. "I’ll get bored if I go home now. That wolf kam husky zyada, 'Duggu' must be sleeping anyway."
He chuckled at my words and said, "Alright then. Go inside."
"Inside?" I frowned in confusion, until he walked toward his massive bookshelf. With a swift motion, he pushed, and to my surprise, it slid aside, revealing a hidden room behind it.
My eyes widened. "Wait… a secret room?"
"Mm-hmm," he nodded with a proud smile. "From here, I can even see what you’re doing inside."
I blinked at him, half-shocked, half-amused. "Of course you can," I muttered, quickly nodding before stepping inside.
The moment I entered, my lips parted in awe. "Wow… this is just like your room—dark, quiet, and so spacious."
But what truly caught my attention wasn’t the walls or the furniture, it was the bed. Big, inviting, and almost too perfect. Without a second thought, I ran towards it and flopped down with a laugh.
"God, this is so soft," I murmured, stretching out and closing my eyes, though sleep refused to come.
I sank deeper into the bed, curling sideways as I pulled out my phone and lazily scrolled through reels. The room was quiet, almost too peaceful with no disturbance and no boredom.
And then, as if the algorithm knew me too well, it threw him on my screen. The man who made me fall in love with Italian men. The one and only Michele Morrone.
The reel played in smooth edits, his slow walk in a black suit, his smirk added with a sexy song in background
"Oh my God," I whispered, biting my lower lip. "Why are you this hot? It's a crime to be this handsome"
The transition shifted to him shirtless by the pool, water dripping off his chest. My cheeks heated up, but instead of looking away, I giggled and pulled the phone closer.
"Perfect jawline… perfect hair… perfect voice. Are you even real?" I murmure
d like a teenager, kicking my feet against the bed as if I couldn’t contain my excitement.
My whole focus was on the reel, I didn't even cared about the outside world getting so lost in the edit but suddenly my smile vanished when a voice rang near my ear-
“Having fun while looking at another man, sweetheart?”
________________________
Ok that's it for today roses... Don't forget to VOTE and comment 💋
Write a comment ...