Drishti stepped into the room and saw Advait already lying on the bed with his eyes closed. Not wanting to disturb him, she quietly made her way to her side of the bed and laid down beside him.

"What were you doing for so long?" Advait asked softly, wrapping his arm around her.

"We were just talking," she replied in a low voice.

Advait leaned closer, nuzzling his nose against her neck, making her giggle. But the moment was interrupted by a thought that crossed her mind—something Tej had said earlier. Gathering her courage, she hesitated before asking, "Did you really—"

Before she could complete her sentence, Advait opened his eyes, his gaze locking onto hers. "If this is about Mr. Rathore, don’t ask," he interrupted firmly before resting his head back on her shoulder.

Drishti sighed, her frustration evident. She closed her eyes, but a small smile tugged at his lips, one she could feel against her neck.

"Listen," she called out hesitantly.

"Hmm?" he responded, his voice heavy with sleep.

"Um… everyone is going to Di’s house tomorrow," she began nervously. She already knew what his reaction would be, but having promised everyone she’d join them, she had no choice but to try and convince him.

"So?" he prompted when she didn’t continue.

She bit her lip nervously before blurting out, "I was thinking… we should go too."

"No," he replied bluntly, without a second thought. Tightening his grip around her, he buried his face deeper into her neck.

Drishti pouted, her irritation growing. Anger bubbled up inside her as she thought, He can go wherever he wants, and I never say a word. But the moment I ask for something, he denies it outright. Fine, I’ll show him exactly whose wife I am!

"Advait, I heard you're not coming with us?" Deepa asked as everyone gathered in the hall.

Advait's eyes immediately shifted toward Drishti. He could already guess what was going on in her mind. "No, I have work," he replied curtly.

"Okay," Deepa said, knowing full well that once Advait said no, he wouldn’t change his mind no matter what. Drishti, however, stared at Deepa in shock, wondering how she could give up so easily.

Noticing Drishti’s expression, Deepa tried again, "But at least let us take Drishti with us—"

"No," Advait interrupted sharply, standing up. "She has college."

Everyone exchanged glances as Drishti quickly got up, determined to argue. "But I still have a couple of days off! Missing a day or two won’t make me fail."

Advait shot her a glare, his piercing eyes silencing her. Drishti tried to hold her ground, pretending she wasn’t intimidated, but in the end, she looked away. Without another word, Advait walked out of the room.

Drishti slumped onto the sofa with a frustrated huff. "See, Ma? He acts like a dictator. Doesn’t listen to a single thing I say!"

Riddhima and Deepa chuckled, while Anjali tried to console her, barely able to hold back her smile.

"Yes, I saw, my dear daughter," Anjali teased lightly. "Where have you gotten yourself stuck with this husband of yours?"

Drishti nodded cutely, pouting.

"Drishti," her aunt called, grabbing her attention. She immediately straightened up.

"How long will you let him scare you like this? The more you give in, the more he’ll dominate you."

"But what can I do?" Drishti protested, her frustration bubbling up. "You saw, right? He just says what he wants and walks away. He doesn’t care if someone else has something to say!"

Riddhima leaned closer, gesturing for Drishti to come nearer. Drishti bent down, curious, as Riddhima whispered, "You need to trap him in the net of a wife. Once you do that, you’ll see how quickly he starts agreeing to everything you say."

Anjali and Deepa suppressed their laughter at the unexpected turn of the conversation, trying to maintain a serious expression.

"What kind of ‘net’ is this?" Drishti asked, her curiosity piqued.

Riddhima smirked mischievously and said, "The kind of net only a wife knows how to weave—sweet words, a bit of pampering, and when needed, a touch of emotional blackmail."

Drishti's eyes widened. "Emotional blackmail?!"

Deepa burst out laughing. "Yes, dear! If you cry a little, pout a little, and maybe toss in a 'you don’t love me anymore,' or—" she leaned closer with a teasing grin, "don’t let him touch you, he won’t know what hit him."

Drishti’s jaw dropped, her cheeks instantly flushing a deep red. " di!" she exclaimed, half in shock and half laughing.

"What?" Deepa said, shrugging innocently. "Desperate times call for desperate measures. Trust me, men are easy to handle if you know the tricks."

Anjali shook her head, laughing softly. "Deepa, stop corrupting the poor girl! She’s already flustered."

Riddhima joined in, smirking. "Oh, I think she likes the idea. Look at her face—she’s already plotting her next move!"

Drishti tried hard to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks and said, "It won’t make any difference to him. No matter what I do, he’s only interested in scolding me all the time." She crossed her arms and pouted dramatically.

Deepa chuckled, unable to hide her amusement, and patted Drishti's back. "Just wait, Drishti. The day you try it, you’ll thank me!"

Drishti rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. "I doubt it’ll work. He’s like a stone—no emotions, no reactions."

Riddhima raised an eyebrow, grinning. "Oh really? Then why does that stone glare at anyone who even looks at you for more than a second?"

Drishti opened her mouth to respond but quickly shut it, her blush deepening. "That’s… that’s different," she mumbled, looking away.

Anjali laughed softly. "Different, is it? Beta, don’t underestimate your husband. He may act tough, but we all know he’s completely smitten by you."

Deepa added with a wink, "Exactly. You’re the only one who can bring that stone to life. Now, go show him who’s boss!"

Drishti sighed but couldn’t help laughing along with everyone.

………………………………………………

As Advait stepped into the Rathore mansion, the dim lighting did little to hide the storm brewing in his wife’s eyes as she walked toward him with determined steps.

Is she angry? he wondered, trying to gauge her mood. Deciding to play it safe, he put on his most loving voice. "Still awake, my dear wife?"

She stopped right in front of him, folding her arms and glaring at him. "How can a wife sleep peacefully when her husband spends the night outside?"

He took a step closer, a teasing glint in his eyes. "And what exactly are you trying to say, my wife?" he asked, his voice low and velvety.

Drishti turned her face away, avoiding his intense gaze. "Should I heat up the food for you? Go and eat," she muttered, attempting to change the topic as she turned to leave.

Before she could take another step, Advait grabbed her wrist and pulled her back toward him with a firm yet gentle tug. She stumbled, her hands landing flat against his chest, and she gasped softly at their sudden closeness.

His eyes locked onto hers with a smoldering intensity. The world around them seemed to disappear as he lifted her effortlessly into his arms. In seconds, she found herself on the sofa, her heart racing as his lips captured hers in a deep, passionate kiss.

Her breath hitched as he trailed kisses down her neck, his fingers skillfully pulling out her hairpin, letting her locks cascade down her back. His hand traced the edge of her saree, slipping it from her shoulder, exposing the smooth curve of her skin.

“Ad…Adv…” she tried to whisper, her voice trembling, but he silenced her with another fervent kiss, his lips exploring every corner of hers as though he couldn’t get enough.

His hand skimmed down her stomach, lingering at the border of her blouse. Her body shivered under his touch, her breaths coming in soft gasps. His name escaped her lips in a broken whisper as his fingers deftly untied the dori of her blouse.

He hovered over her, his weight grounding her, his gaze so intense it felt like it could consume her. "You are mine, Drishti," he whispered against her lips, his voice filled with a mix of passion and possessiveness.

Her hands clutched his shirt as she tried to form the words, her voice shaky. "S-someone might come..." she said, taking a deep breath, her heart pounding against her chest.

Advait caught her hands, pinning them gently above her head, his body hovering over hers. His gaze burned into her, intense and unyielding. "Do you love me?" he asked, his voice low and husky, yet laced with an undeniable vulnerability.

Drishti’s eyes widened. She understood the question wasn’t just about the moment—it came from somewhere deeper, a place of doubt and longing, but she thought to tease him "You’re always scolding me… I don’t…" she started, but her voice trailed off when his lips captured hers.

He kissed her gently at first, nibbling on her upper lip, then switching to her lower lip, drawing out a soft gasp from her. His lips paused just a breath away, his eyes searching hers. "Now?" he whispered. "Do you still not love me?"

Her chest heaved as she tried to steady her breathing. "You didn’t let me go," she murmured, her voice so faint it was almost lost between them.

A slow, mischievous smile spread across his face. "Hate me all you want," he murmured, his voice teasing, "but will not let you go anywhere."

His hands moved to her saree, pulling it away from her shoulder. She gasped, instinctively trying to free her hands, but his grip didn’t falter. His lips began exploring every inch of exposed skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"Advait..." she whispered, her body trembling under his touch

He didn’t stop, his kisses growing deeper, more fervent, as though he was trying to erase every doubt she had. Her toes curled, and her back arched involuntarily, the intensity of his love overwhelming her senses.

"You’re mine, Drishti," he whispered against her skin, his voice low and resolute, as though he wasn’t telling her but affirming it to himself. It wasn’t just a declaration—it was a vow, a promise etched into his very being.

In that moment, Drishti realized this wasn’t just his desire speaking—it was his vulnerability, his way of ensuring that no one, no force in the world, could harm her or take her away from him. Her heart softened, her earlier irritation melting away as she looked into his eyes, seeing the storm of emotions he rarely let anyone glimpse.

"I’m yours, Advait," she whispered back, her voice trembling but steady, her words carrying a promise of their own. "Always."

Her simple words stole his breath. He froze, his gaze locked onto hers, the world around them fading into silence. For a moment, he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.

His Drishti, his stubborn, delicate flower, had finally said it—she was his. Just his.

Advait’s heart thundered in his chest, his emotions swirling like a storm he couldn’t contain.

He searched her eyes, looking for any hint of hesitation, but all he found was honesty and a quiet vulnerability that shook him to his core.

"You said it," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as though speaking any louder would break the fragile beauty of the moment. "You’re mine... only mine."

He cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing her cheek as if to make sure she was real, as if to imprint this moment into his soul forever.

Drishti blinked up at him, a hint of shyness creeping into her expression, but she didn’t look away. She couldn’t—not when his eyes held her captive, not when his emotions laid bare the depth of his love.

"You have no idea what that means to me," he whispered, his lips brushing hers softly, reverently, like she was the most precious thing in his world. And to him, she was.

After a moment, reality dawned on Drishti, and she became acutely aware of where they were—in the hall. Embarrassment painted her cheeks as she lightly pushed him, making him groan like a child. "Leave me now! Don’t you want to eat dinner?" she said, trying to wriggle out from under him.

He shook his head stubbornly, resting his head back on her chest.

"But I’m hungry," she mumbled.

At her words, Advait suddenly lifted his head and looked at her, his expression shifting from playful to serious. "You haven’t eaten yet?" he asked, standing abruptly, his tone laced with concern.

She missed his warmth as he moved away and quickly sat up, pulling her saree’s pallu over her shoulder to cover herself.

Advait’s brows furrowed, and his voice held a touch of frustration."And why didn't you eat? Can I know?"

Drishti stood, fidgeting with her saree as she muttered, "I was waiting for you... obviously."

Seeing her struggle, he reached for the pin on the table nearby. "Stop staring and give me that pin," she said, extending her hand toward him.

He placed the pin in her hand with a sigh but couldn’t stop himself from glaring as he headed toward the kitchen.

She secured the saree with the pin, watching his retreating figure. "Such a grump," she murmured to herself, shaking her head. "A chili will always remain a chili—never sweet like jaggery."

Advait returned with plates of food, placing them on the dining table. They sat together, sharing the meal, their conversation light and easy.

Drishti felt a sense of peace and happiness wash over her. This was the kind of normalcy she had always dreamed of—a loving family, moments filled with warmth and care. After her marriage, those dreams had seemed like distant fantasies, but now, sitting here with Advait, she felt them coming to life.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice Advait watching her intently. "What happened?" he asked softly, turning her face toward him by cupping her cheeks.

Caught off guard, she immediately hugged him tightly, burying her face in his chest. "Please, never leave me," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

Advait’s heart clenched. He wrapped his arms around her, his hand rubbing her back soothingly. "That will never happen," he said firmly, his voice steady and reassuring, "until my last breath."

Drishti pulled back slightly, her tear-filled eyes locking onto his. Her glare was more out of love than anger. "If you ever say something like that again..." she began, her voice breaking, "I’ll be very upset."

A tender smile spread across Advait’s face. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. "Then I’ll just have to win you over again," he said gently, his words carrying a quiet promise of forever.