Are you ready to see me win, Mr. Qureshi?" Every word she spoke carried such confidence that anyone would lose themselves in her audacity.

"Rehan Qureshi never loses, Princess," I smirked, getting on my bike. As I watched her lift the visor of her helmet, her captivating, destructive eyes were revealed-eyes that looked at me as if she owned me.

"Rehan Qureshi will lose this time," she declared before disappearing from my sight in seconds. And there I was, still trying to steady myself after seeing those eyes-eyes that held nothing, yet somehow outshone the universe.

It wouldn't be her confidence but those dark, enigmatic eyes that would be the reason if I ever lost to her.

But-wait a minute! Why am I even thinking about all this? Why am I thinking about Jasmine again, who is nothing more than an employee to me?

Shaking off the distraction, I revved up my bike at full speed. Rehan Qureshi can never lose, especially not to you, Princess!

I spotted her bike ahead-she looked stunning in every way, in everything she did. Why? I had no answer for it. Or maybe, I just didn't want to answer my own thoughts.

"Aren't you a biker, Mr. Qureshi?" Her voice came through our connected earpieces-was she taunting me or simply making conversation?

"Are you asking me or telling me, Princess?" I shot back, matching her audacity.

"Just confirming," she replied simply. But was it really that simple?

"That doesn't sound like something a hacker like you would say, Princess." My tone wasn't harsh, nor was it soft-it was crystal clear that I was taunting her, and she knew exactly why.

"What do you think suits me then, Mr. Qureshi?" Her voice was playful. She turned back to glance at me, then, in an instant, accelerated again.

The highway was unusually empty for this time of evening, yet something in me didn't want this race to end so soon.

"Your silence," I finally replied.

Her speed dropped.

And in that moment, I made a choice.

I let her win.

I didn't accelerate; I just followed behind her.

"You love my silence?" Her voice suddenly softened.

"No," I replied instantly.

"Then?" Her curiosity grew.

"I want to know the reason behind your authority," I admitted, realizing that when it came to her, my mouth had no control over me.

"Aren't you stepping out of your rude personality, Mr. Qureshi?"

And here we go-Ms. Jasmine can never be serious. But wait, did she just call me rude?

"Am I rude?" I asked her instantly.

"Oh great, you're back to your usual self," she chuckled and stopped the bike near a restaurant.

I stepped out and walked toward her as she removed her helmet and flipped her hair freely. As if my racing heart wasn't enough, even the wind seemed to lose control, playing with her hair. And yet, my inner urge was stronger-to pull her into my arms, close enough that even the wind wouldn't dare to touch a single strand.

"So, how does it feel to lose to me, Mr. Qureshi?" Jasmine walked up to me, a mischievous smile playing on her deep red lips.

I tried my best not to lose again-again and again in front of her.

Her hair, her eyes, her victory... and now even her lips? I had never lost so much in a single day. But the worst part? I didn't regret losing to her. If anything, I was ready to lose a thousand times over if it meant seeing that breathtaking smile on her addictive face.

"You were just lucky today, princess," I tried to sound calm as I removed my helmet-only to catch her staring deeply into my eyes.

Blink, Rehan! I screamed internally. But my traitorous eyes had no self-respect.

And I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the way she made me feel with just her mere presence.

What is happening to me? Why is my heart reacting to everything she does?

And why am I even getting attached to Jasmine in the first place?

"You're right, Qureshi. I'm the luckiest person today," she said, her voice so soft that my heart almost gave up on me.

What the hell is going on with my organs today? I seriously needed to see a doctor.

And now her soft voice too? Just great!

"Let's go," she said, moving ahead of me. I couldn't bring myself to respond-I wasn't in the right state to. So, letting my organs continue their weird behavior, I simply followed her inside the restaurant.

The place was cozy, with only a few people sitting around, engaged in quiet conversations. She led me to a seat by the window, from where the outside road was clearly visible. And like an obedient little puppy, I just followed her every move.

"So, we're here for-"

"A coffee date," she interrupted before I could finish my sentence.

"Remember your promise, Mr. Qureshi? It's on you," Jasmine said cheerfully, flipping through the menu.

And even though the evening sky outside was beautifully lit with a few scattered stars, my eyes refused to wander anywhere but her.

At first, I sat upright, crossing my legs, trying to maintain composure. But as I watched her, completely engrossed in choosing her order, my straight posture gradually gave in. My elbow rested on the table, my chin on my hand, and the more she pouted in concentration, the closer I leaned toward her.

And before I could get any closer to her, the waiter arrived to take our order.

"I'll have a latte and cheesecake. And what about you, Mr. Qureshi?" Jasmine asked, handing me the menu.

"An espresso, please," I replied, straightening up. Lucky me, she didn't notice me much.

A few minutes later, our order arrived, and without wasting a second, she eagerly dug into her cheesecake.

Watching her eat, I couldn't help but wonder how her choices were so different from her personality.

"Would you like to taste?" Jasmine asked, cutting a piece and bringing it toward me.

"I hate cakes, princess," I replied curtly, shifting my gaze away from her.

"Why?" Her never-ending curiosity struck again.

Because it reminds me of her-the only woman I ever loved. Yet, she betrayed me in a way that brought me to this point. From a criminal lawyer to a mafia lawyer-correction-a mafia hacker.

I despise everything sweet.

Finally, I looked into her eyes, which held nothing but an insatiable curiosity to know every little detail about me.

The more I looked at her, the more I felt like I was losing my damn mind.

"You talk a lot, princess," I changed the topic.

"I love to," she grinned like a kid and went back to enjoying her cake.

For a second, seeing her so content with just a slice of cake, an old urge surfaced-the urge to taste it. Because I once loved this cake. But not anymore-

"You won't gain weight from a single bite, Qureshi," before I could react, she brought the spoon to my lips and forcefully fed me a piece.

"Princess?" I muttered, my mouth still full.

"Feel every flavor and enjoy it," she smiled, bringing another spoonful toward me.

I swallowed the first bite and grabbed her hand, stopping her midway.

"Why are you doing all this? What for?" My tone was colder than usual.

"Later, when you think about this day, you'll remember me," her soft voice had an unexpected effect-it soothed my heart.

I don't need to remember this place to recall her. She's already etched inside me.

"Don't do this, Jasmine," I warned, my voice deadly serious.

"I love my name... but it hurts when you say it, Qureshi," she gently pulled her hand from mine and looked down at her plate.

"Why?" I raised an eyebrow, confused.

"Because you only call me by my name when you're angry with me," she pouted.

And that was all it took for the rude man-according to her-to melt at her antics.

"Princess," I called her softly this time. But instead of responding, madam chose to pout even more, making her look incredibly cute.

Wait-so is she angry with me now?

But hold on a second-I was the one who was angry with her just a minute ago. And now, not even a few minutes later, I'm the one trying to convince her because she is suddenly angry with me for being angry at her?

What kind of logic is this?

"Are you upset with me now?" I asked helplessly.

"I'm not," she replied in a cold tone.

She's definitely angry with me.

"First of all, you're very clumsy, princess," I remarked.

She instantly looked up at me, her nose turning even redder in frustration.

I chuckled, grabbed a tissue, and leaned in closer. Holding her chin gently with my left hand, I brought her face nearer, wiping the cream off the corner of her red lips.

I could clearly hear her heartbeat quickening.

A smile tugged at my lips, knowing I had an effect on her.

But my smile vanished instantly when I realized-she wasn't breathing.

Desperately trying to not let my gaze fall on her lips, I looked into her eyes instead-only to find her staring back at me, blank and unmoving.

"Breathe, princess... before I forget how to breathe," I muttered.

Damn it, I hate my mouth! What on earth am I even saying?

She just nodded, but a deep crimson started blooming over her already-pink cheeks.

I tried shifting my gaze away from her lips.

But it didn't work.

Why the hell is this tissue even cleaning the cream when it's supposed to be my lips job!

Not again-that ridiculous inner urge to grab her by the neck, lick that cream away myself, and accidentally brush against those distracting lips.

"Is it done?" she barely whispered.

"Almost," I murmured, my voice just as unsteady.

Absolutely hating the tissue for being there for no reason, I finally wiped off the cream and sat up straight, trying to calm my racing nerves.

And suddenly, the whole situation became awkward. She wasn't angry anymore, but her cheeks betrayed her every time she tried to look at me. Meanwhile, I was struggling to control my nerves from bursting due to her cuteness---She is your employee, Rehan! I had to keep reminding myself every time I looked at her.

"Are you done, Mr. Qureshi?"

Her voice was so seductive that it was becoming incredibly hard to control my overwhelming urge-to pull her onto my lap, let my hands explore her curves, and for my lips to devour those tempting red lips just to know what they taste like!

"I guess I am," I muttered. This wasn't even about the damn date!

We got up, and Jasmine walked ahead while I was busy memorizing the faces of the men I'd make sure to kill tonight-for daring to look at her.

No, I'm absolutely not jealous. I'm just concerned because she's my freaking employee. That's it.

When we reached the parking lot, I found her struggling once again to fasten her helmet. I was already seated on my bike, while she stood three feet away, fumbling with the buckle.

"Let me help." It wasn't an offer-it was an order.

With a curt command, I instantly wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her closer. Her soft nose brushed against mine, causing my breath to slow down for absolutely no reason. I hate my breath now.

"Qureshi," she whispered, just loud enough for me to hear her addictive voice and feel her uneven breaths against my freaking lips.

Just taste those lips already! My heart was screaming, while my hand absentmindedly caressed her slim waist. No way-I'm getting addicted to her features!

"Don't call me Qureshi, princess," I murmured-no, I whispered-so close to her lips that I could feel their warmth. My limits wouldn't allow me to touch them, yet they refused to let me pull away either.

"Then?" she asked, unfazed.

She doesn't get scared or shy around me. Her boldness only makes me want to know her even more.

"It's Mr. Qureshi for you, Princess," I finally broke the tension, ignoring my urge to steal a taste of her lips, and instead, I unclasped the helmet buckle.

"And It's Jasmine for you, Mr. Qureshi. And let's keep the professionalism between us," she stated boldly.

Her confidence is incredible.

"As you say, Princess-aka Jasmine," I murmured softly with a low chuckle, amused by how short-tempered she is-and how insanely drawn I am to her antics.

She didn't say another word, just kept looking at me-like she was trying to tell me something through her eyes.

No. I don't want to get distracted anymore.

"Anything else, Jasmine?" I asked calmly, not daring to break our eye contact.

"Would you consider letting go of my waist for now, Mr. Qureshi?"

For now?

And did she just emphasize my last name?

"No", my freaking mouth!

I mean-why the hell am I stuttering in front of her now?

"You're cute," she said before stepping away from me, flashing the most beautiful smile I'd ever seen, and riding off on her bike.

And once again, I sat there, stunned by her actions.

She called me cute?

A sudden wave of heat rushed to my cheeks. When I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, I saw my face turning red. Am I really blushing? Just because she called me cute? What the hell is wrong with my hormones? Why am I acting like Jasmine now?!

Shoving all my thoughts aside, I followed her, my mind consumed entirely by her.

After what should have been a simple yet dangerously addictive forced date, we finally reached the farmhouse.

She got off the bike and stood beside it. I stopped mine next to hers, stepping forward and subtly caging her between the bike and myself.

"I have a question, Mr. Qureshi. Would you mind if I asked?"

Jasmine's arms were crossed, her tone firm-showing not even a hint of shyness after everything that happened between us earlier. Meanwhile, here I was, an absolute mess just by having her near me.

"I hope it's a professional question, Jasmine," I replied, stepping away from my bike and standing just inches away from her. Poor thing-she had nowhere to go, trapped between the bike and her boss hovering over her.

"Of course, it is."

"I'm listening," I said, genuinely curious.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

So this is what she considers professional talk?

"Isn't that too professional, Jasmine? Why not ask something personal instead?" I taunted.

"Do you have a girlfriend, Mr. Qureshi?"

Great. What a crazy little thing she is.

"Yes, I do," I lied.

For a brief second, her confidence wavered-but just as quickly, she regained her composure.

"Umm... I guess I'll have to find her a new boyfriend then," she amazed me.

Her words went straight out of my head.

"Why?"

Why the hell am I even asking her that?

"Because..." She took a step closer, eliminating the remaining space between us.

If she moved her lips even slightly, they would brush against my chin-and I would gladly lean down, kiss her, and tell her that this is where her lips truly need to rest.

Instead, she chose to weaken me by placing her hand on my shoulder and smoothly trailing it down to my chest. Her touch is magical, but... why are my cheeks burning from just this slight contact?

She leaned in closer to my ear, and now I could feel her warm breaths against my skin.

"You belong to me, Rehan," she whispered-so softly, yet with a depth that sent shivers down my spine. And as if that wasn't enough, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to my cheek before walking away.

Should I even breathe now? That was the only question running through my mind.

My hand moved on its own, touching the spot where her red lips had rested. The moment I did, a sudden jolt of electricity shot through my entire body.

She kissed me? She actually kissed me? Her words weren't enough-her touch, too?

She's insane. That's the only explanation for the way she's making my entire system malfunction with just one simple touch of her lips.

"You've chosen the wrong person, Princess," I muttered, a smirk forming on my lips before I finally stepped inside.

As soon as I entered the hall, my eyes landed on Asad and his fiancee, both completely engrossed in a movie.

Aleena sat on the center couch, while Asad lounged on the left one.

Genre: Horror.

It suits them.

A few moments later, Jasmine returned, now dressed comfortably in a long, flowing yellow cotton dress.

She sat beside Ms. Aleena, shifting her gaze from the TV to me. She smiled, but there was no trace of her usual mischief.

After a solid two minutes of our silent staring contest, I was the one who finally looked away. Because now I understood-I couldn't win against her, o

r maybe... I loved watching her win against me.

I paused at my own thoughts.

I seriously need a psychiatrist at this rate. What am I even thinking?

Shaking off all thoughts of her, I focused back on reality and took a seat beside Asad. Our work planning for tomorrow would begin as soon as Zaid returned from his date.



After waiting since morning, her room door finally opened, revealing a breathtaking sight-her, standing there, adjusting her outfit.

I doubtfully kept the box at her room, hoping she would wear it so I could finally tell her how beautiful she looks in something of my choice.

The light pink saree hugged her curves perfectly. I doubted even angels could be as beautiful as she was-or rather, she was the only beautiful being my eyes could ever see.

The moment I first saw her in a red outfit, I made it my mission to find out what that attire was called. I wouldn't even lie-I might have troubled a few of my female patients just to know the name of that outfit.

Since I had already seen her in red, I chose pink this time, thinking it would be safer-so I wouldn't faint again.

But I was completely wrong.

This color was just as dangerous to my poor heart.

Turns out, it wasn't about the color at all. My freaking heart was the real problem. It lost all control the moment I saw her, and I still couldn't understand why I was so damn obsessed with her.

So obsessed that no matter how many eyes were on me, my eyes only saw her.

And if anyone dared to look in her direction, I wouldn't hesitate to take their eyes out.

Her long, straight hair flowed freely as the wind from the open window played with it-just the cherry on top. The long sleeves of her blouse fit perfectly, hugging her arms in all the right ways.

As I chose a light color for her, I decided to wear something light as well-a simple white formal shirt with rolled-up sleeves, making my veins visible just for her. A Rolex watch adorned my left wrist, while my hair, left free, was styled in a messy way-just to impress her. My shirt was untucked, paired with blue jeans, and completed with Louboutin shoes to match her heels.

She was trying to put on her black Louboutin heels. But before she could bend down, I stepped toward her, kneeling on one knee, and gently pulled her onto my lap.

Our eyes met, and for me, time simply stopped.

"Beautiful," I murmured, gazing at the face that made it impossible for me to breathe even for a second.

"Dr. Zaid," she called me softly.

"Yes, cupcake?" I responded, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair.

"You can't just pull me toward you," she complained sternly, but to me, it only made her look more adorable.

"I didn't pull you toward me, Ayesha. Instead, I'm the one being pulled toward you-with full force." I told her the only truth of my life.

Tightening my grip around her bare waist, I pulled her even closer. And before my cupcake could respond, I bent down and gently slipped the heels onto her feet.

"I love the color of this saree," I heard her say.

"And I love the person wearing it," I replied without hesitation.

Once I was sure she had worn it completely, I finally looked up at her.

And no matter how many times I see her, I can never bring myself to blink.

She is simply too breathtaking to look away from.

"Can you help me tie the dori too?" she asked, trying to stand up, but I pulled her back toward me.

"Your knees might hurt, Dr. Zaid. Let me stand," she said softly, her voice unusually gentle and affectionate. I didn't know what had changed in her all of a sudden, but I liked it. I liked that she was letting me come closer, that she was showing concern for me.

"It won't, cupcake," I murmured softly.

Without another word, Ayesha turned her back to me, revealing her bare skin. She gently moved her hair to the front, and for a moment, I found it hard to breathe.

Should I just devour her now? - Shut up, Zaid! I scolded myself, forcing restraint.

"Will you be able to do it?" she asked, turning her face slightly toward me.

"S-Sure," I stuttered.

Without moving my hand from her waist, I trailed my fingers up, barely grazing her soft, milky skin. The view before me, the way she was sitting, and the way her breath teased my senses-all of it was dangerously intoxicating.

Somehow, I managed to tie the dori and gently moved her hair back. Inhaling her scent, I pressed a soft kiss against her breathtaking locks.

"Done?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"Yes," I replied. She stood up, but when I looked at her, I noticed her cheeks had turned a deep shade of red.

Do I really have that much of an effect on her?

Yes. I do. After all, I'm the only one who has that right over her.

"Let's go, cupcake," I said, standing up and offering my hand to her.

"Where are we going?" Ayesha asked, smoothly intertwining her fingers with mine.

"On a dinner date," I replied softly, opening the door for her.

"Thank you," she murmured, walking ahead.

After a thirty-minute silent drive, filled with tension and an overwhelming urge to be closer, we arrived at our destination-an ancient restaurant built in the 1950s, known for its unique and fiery cuisine.

As we walked in, I made sure to book the entire place, ensuring we had complete privacy. I wanted to spend every second with her, uninterrupted.

"This restaurant is mesmerizing, Dr. Zaid," Ayesha said, admiring the vintage charm of the place, while I quietly instructed the staff to serve our food and then leave us alone.

"I hope to make this night as beautiful as you are, Ms. Hayat," I said, pulling out a chair for her.

"Let's see what you have planned for me, Dr. Zaid," she replied, her confidence returning. The shy Ayesha had disappeared the moment we stepped inside, and I loved seeing her back to her bold self.

"I won't disappoint you, cupcake," I chuckled, taking my seat.

Within minutes, our food arrived, and we began eating. The main reason I had chosen this restaurant was her undeniable love for spicy food. The spicier the dish, the better her mood.

"I love the curry," she said, enjoying every bite as she placed some on my plate.

And then, the final challenge-the fried green chilies.

She loved eating them. So did I.

We finished an entire plate of them, and now it was time for something to soothe the spice.

As I poured the drinks, I noticed her subtly adjusting the fabric of her blouse.

Watching her do that, I couldn't help but wonder-Why hide it, when I've already seen everything beneath that fabric?

A sudden, uncontrollable urge surged within me-to walk over, grab her by the waist, lift her onto the table, remove that thin layer of fabric, and kiss the life out of her neck.

But I held myself back.

I couldn't afford to ruin what I was trying so hard to rebuild between us.

I offered her the drink, and the moment she took a sip-watching the way the liquid passed through her lips-a sudden, irrational hatred for that damn drink took over me. That was it. This was my last straw.

I couldn't hold back anymore.

I abruptly stood up, making Ayesha look at me with a confused expression. Before she could ask anything, I lifted her into my arms in a bridal style. Her hand was still holding the glass, but I couldn't care less.

"What's wrong, Dr. Zaid?" Ayesha asked, unaware of what I was about to do to her.

I didn't respond. Instead, I carried her over and placed her on the tennis table.

"Zaid..." she whispered softly, and that was enough to ignite every burning desire within me. My name on her lips sounded like pure heaven.

I looked at her and smiled, while she remained in shock, still not uttering a word.

Smoothly, I took the glass from her hand, drank it in one go, and then threw it onto the floor. The sharp sound of breaking glass made her flinch, but before she could react, I cupped her face with both hands, pulling her even closer.

The moment I felt her breath against me, my body gave up.

"Damn it, Ayesha... I can't stop myself now," I whispered deeply.

Without another second of hesitation, I slightly pushed the pink fabric of her saree aside and pressed my lips against the soft skin of her neck, sucking hungrily.

One hand explored the curves of her waist, while the other tangled in her hair, gripping it firmly.

"Zaid..." she moaned my name, and I couldn't help but chuckle between my sinful actions.

"That's what you'll be screaming all night, Ayesha," I murmured before continuing my assault on her addictive skin, leaving my mark where no one else could dare to touch.

She wrapped her arms around my back, her fingers digging into my shirt, her nails scraping against my skin. It was insane-how merciless we were to each other.

I was torturing her with my lips.

And she was torturing me right back with her nails.

After five minutes of completely devouring her neck and hearing my name moaned from her lips, I decided it was time to taste them too.

"Can I?" I asked, resting my lips against hers. I hadn't kissed her yet, but if I did, I knew I wouldn't just kiss-I would devour.

She looked at me, and I stared deep into her soul, so intensely that even if she wanted to refuse, her soul wouldn't let her.

She nodded, then grabbed my collar, pulling me closer-though I was already as close as I could be.

"I need words, cupcake. Do I have permission to kiss what's mine?" I asked, brushing my lips lightly against hers.

"Yes, Zaid," she whispered, her words melting onto my lips.

That was all I needed.

In a heartbeat, I clutched her waist, gripped the back of her neck, and finally claimed her lips.

These weren't just lips. They were mine. A part of her that existed only for me to explore, to own, to ruin.

The insane part? The kiss was spicy. Even her lips seemed crafted just for me, moving in sync with mine as if they had been waiting for this moment.

She clutched my hair tightly, while my hands continued their exploration, tracing every inch of her waist-until my fingers brushed against something metallic.

Even though I didn't want to break the most intoxicating kiss of my life, I pulled away slightly, only to see Ayesha breathless, her face flushed red like ripe cherries.

"Are you out of your mind? I said to kiss, not to eat me, Zaid!" she scolded between her panting breaths, glaring at me.

I chuckled at her adorable accusation.

"How can you laugh, Zaid?" she huffed, hitting my chest.

In response, I grabbed her hair, tilting her head back so she was looking up at the ceiling.

"This is just the beginning, cupcake. And the next kiss will last way longer than this," I warned, my voice dropping into a deep, dark tone.

Then, I kissed her chin before kneeling in front of her.

Ayesha looked down at me, her face still burning red, lost for words. Meanwhile, my curiosity about what was wrapped around her waist only grew stronger.

Giving in, I gently pushed the fabric aside with my fingers.

And the sight before me stole my breath all over again.

A waist chain?

This was the last thing I needed to see when I was already losing control.

"You love to see me suffer, Hayat?" I complained, still kneeling before her, showing her just how helpless I had become when it came to her.

I had never lost control before. But the moment she walked into my life, she changed everything. She rewrote the entire purpose of Zaid Siddiqui-a man who had never spared a glance at a single woman was now on his knees for this stubborn one.

And the moment she disappeared from my life, she changed me again-into a heartless mafia.

That one year took everything from me. It stole my world.

And I promise you, Ayesha-I won't spare the person who put you in this state. The person who made you forget your own husband.

I will make sure that you become Ayesha Siddiqui again.

You were my wife. You are my wife. And you will always be my wife.

With that promise sealed in my heart, I kissed her waist chain. Then, unable to resist, I let my lips trail lower-savoring her, devouring her waist. Because no matter how many dishes I taste, dessert is what truly matters. And tonight, I wanted to make this moment unforgettable.

"Zaid, we're colleagues. This is wrong," she managed to whisper, her voice unsteady.

Instantly, I looked up at her.

I stood, stepping in closer, my body pressing against hers, leaving no space between us. Slowly, I brought my hands to her cheeks, caressing her flushed, heated face.

"We are humans before we are colleagues, Ayesha," I replied, my nose grazing against hers.

"But still... we work together. It would be awkward if we-" She kept searching for reasons, trying to resist, while I had only one truth to tell her.

She is my wife. I have every right to her. Just as she has every right to me.

In fact, I am hers. Completely.

I am no longer just Zaid Siddiqui.

I am Ayesha's Zaid.

"I won't force you, Ayesha. But let me make one thing clear-you are the only woman I have ever kissed. And the only woman I will ever kiss. Until my last breath." My voice softened, but my words carried all the weight of my truth.

She is my woman. Ordering her around would be foolish. A woman deserves to be requested, cherished.

A man should know when he's speaking to a Queen.

And for my Queen, I would kneel without hesitation.

"I need some time----"

"I'll wait," I answered immediately.

"Thank you," she murmured, her eyes still avoiding mine.

Is she... shy?

A rush of adrenaline surged through me.

The fierce lioness, acting like a timid little kitten?

Adorable.

We reached the farmhouse around 1 AM and found all four of them sitting on the couch, completely engrossed in a movie.

Aleena and Jasmine were munching on popcorn at this hour, their eyes glued to the screen, while my friends were no less-sipping coffee yet again and just as focused on the film.

Genre: Robbery.

It suits us!

After all, we're all thieves here. The three ladies? They're busy stealing hearts. And us? We're out robbing the world.

Ayesha sat beside Jasmine, who was leaning against Aleena like another skin. Meanwhile, the two men-still in their suits and jackets-were staring at Jasmine, their expressions giving everything away.

Asad's eyes burned with jealousy seeing jasmine soo close to, Aleena. Rehan's gaze held nothing but pure anger seeing how close jasmine was with, Aleena.

And Ayesha? She was doing her best to ignore me, keeping her eyes either lowered or fixed on the screen.

For now, I decided to give her some space and took a seat beside Rehan.

"How was the date?" Asad asked, taking a sip of his coffee and throwing a glance at Aleena.

"Memorable," I replied, my gaze flickering toward Ayesha. A small smile crept onto my lips as the memories of what happened just hours ago replayed in my mind.

"What's our mission for tomorrow?" I asked as now, it's time to focus on work.

"Black Ocean." Rehan whispered, showing us the painting.

And just like our date, this last day in India was going to be nothing short of memorable.

___🖤___

Thank you so much for coming back and reading the chapters, sweethearts! ❤️

Sometimes, life pulls me in directions where I have to put my passion on hold, and honestly, that's what happened this time. My professional work kept me busy, and I won't lie-it caused a delay. But I truly appreciate your patience and love! ❤️

As a small apology, there's no votes or comments target this time. Just read, enjoy, and feel free to express yourselves however you want! Your support means a lot me. 💕

With love, Author Almas ✨