After watching Suman leave in the car, Amay stood there for a few moments, composing himself.

Her words, her trust, lingered in his mind.

But there was no time to dwell on those feelings.

With a deep breath, he turned and made his way back to his office.

Upon reaching his cabin, he informed his PA, "Send Mr. Agrawal in."

A few minutes later, Ayush entered the cabin and sat down across from Amay.

The atmosphere shifted immediately.

When Ayush had first met Amay, he had been respectful, even a bit timid.

But now, there was a clear change in his demeanor.

His eyes were cold, burning with unresolved frustration, as if Amay had committed some unforgivable crime.

Amay noticed the shift but shrugged off the thought.

Leaning back in his chair, he said coolly, "Mr. Agrawal, to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence in my office today?"

Ayush sat silently for a moment, his jaw clenched as flashes of Suman holding Amay’s hand, smiling at him without hesitation, played in his mind.

It ate at him.

The image wouldn’t leave.

He wanted to lash out, but he restrained himself, barely.

Finally, Ayush broke the silence, his voice tight with anger. "Why?"

Amay raised an eyebrow, his confusion evident. "What do you mean, 'why'?"

Ayush leaned forward, his fists clenched, barely containing the turmoil inside him. "Why did you marry Suman?"

Amay closed his eyes for a moment, feeling pure irritation wash over him.

He exhaled slowly, trying to remain composed. "Mr. Agrawal," he said firmly, "I suggest you mind your own business and not delve into my personal life."

That only seemed to fuel Ayush’s rage further.

His voice rose, thick with accusation. "You knew she was going to marry me. You knew that, yet you married her. Why?!"

Amay’s patience was wearing thin.

He took a deep breath, his expression tightening, but he maintained his composure.

His voice was calm but filled with an edge of steel. "Mr. Agrawal, it would be better if you asked that question to yourself. You’re the one who betrayed Suman. You married someone else. And now you have the audacity to question me?"

The words hit Ayush like a slap.

He flinched, visibly shaken by the truth in Amay’s statement.

His anger faltered for a brief moment, replaced by the bitter sting of guilt.

Deep down, Ayush knew that Amay was right.

Everything that had gone wrong, the ruin of his relationship with Suman—it was all because of him.

He had made his choices, and now, seeing Suman happy and comfortable with another man, the consequences of those choices were unbearable.

But instead of accepting his defeat, Ayush remained silent, his face contorted with frustration and hurt.

He sat there, knowing full well that he had no right to demand answers.

And yet, the pain of losing Suman gnawed at him from the inside, a wound that was entirely self-inflicted.

Amay, seeing the flicker of defeat in Ayush’s eyes, leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a cold, resolute tone. "If you’re here to talk about business, we can proceed. But if you're here to discuss something that no longer concerns you, I suggest you leave."

As Ayush listened to Amay’s words, a smirk formed on his lips, his eyes gleaming with challenge.

He leaned back in his chair and said mockingly, "Why, Mr. Shekhawat? Are you afraid that me discussing Suman makes you jealous? Or do you think I might take her away from you?"

Amay's jaw clenched, and his knuckles tightened into fists under the desk.

Hell would break loose if anyone dared to separate him from Suman.

He loved her—damn it, to the point where there was no going back.

And yes, he had felt a sharp pang of jealousy when he saw Ayush talking to his wife.

But seeing Suman’s calm face, he had controlled the rage burning inside him.

But now, hearing Ayush’s words, he was an inch away from losing control, from punching Ayush square in the face.

He wanted to.

Desperately.

Instead, Amay leaned forward with a cold, dangerous smile that made Ayush frown.

"Ayush Agrawal," Amay began, his voice laced with menace, "first of all, my wife is not yours to claim. She. Is. Mine. And if you ever dare to try something like that, then I swear that will be your last day on this planet."

The menacing tone in Amay’s voice made Ayush gulp.

The confidence in Amay’s eyes, the calm yet deadly certainty, sent a shiver down Ayush’s spine.

He could feel the rage simmering beneath the surface, and for a moment, Ayush was paralyzed by the intensity of it.

Amay leaned back in his chair, still holding Ayush’s gaze, his demeanor cold but controlled. "And lastly, no one—no one—can take Suman away from me. She’s my wife. Till eternity. I trust her completely. Sure, you were her ex, but I’m her present. And her future. After the way you betrayed her, she doesn’t give a damn about you. So, live in your little dreamland all you want, but know this—you taking Suman away from me? It’s never going to happen."

Ayush could sense the possessiveness, the obsession, in Amay’s voice.

It was undeniable—Amay Shekhawat was deeply, fiercely in love with Suman.

And that thought, that undeniable fact, made Ayush’s jealousy burn hotter.

He felt his throat tighten as he stood up, unable to handle the intensity in Amay’s eyes any longer.

Without another word, Ayush turned and made his way toward the door.

But as he reached for the handle, he heard Amay’s voice one last time, low and dangerous. "Remember, Mr. Agrawal. Cross this line, and you won’t live to regret it."

Ayush left the cabin, his mind swirling with jealousy, anger, and a sense of defeat he hadn’t expected to feel.

He knew now—Amay wasn’t someone to be trifled with.

Not when it came to Suman.

Suman stepped out of the car with a broad smile on her face, her heart still fluttering from the thoughts of Amay.

The entire way home, her mind had been filled with images of him—how he cared for her, the way his eyes sparkled with surprise and joy when she brought him lunch, the unwavering trust he had in her.

Every little gesture, from ensuring she reached home safely to the way his touch made her feel both butterflies and a deep sense of comfort, stayed with her.

Amay was undeniably a good man.

No, more than good—he was exceptional, and undeniably handsome too.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he was making a place in her heart, carving out a space where there had once been confusion.

There was something about him that was praiseworthy, something rare.

Suman had never met anyone quite like him.

As she entered the Shekhawat mansion, her warm smile lingered, and she was greeted by the sight of her in-laws sitting in the living room, enjoying their afternoon tea.

Glancing at the clock, she saw it was 4:00 PM.

Her heart felt light seeing them in such a relaxed moment.

Tara, noticed her entrance first. "Aree, Suman! You’re back. Come, beta, sit with us," she said, her voice welcoming and warm.

Suman smiled and moved to join them, sitting beside Tara on the sofa.

Tara called out to the househelp, "Make one more cup of tea for Suman, please."

Within a few moments, the tea arrived, and Suman accepted it with a smile of gratitude.

As she held the warm cup between her hands, the atmosphere in the room felt peaceful.

Her father-in-law, Anirudh, looked up from his cup and asked, "Beta, aap akele aayi hai? Amay nahi aaya aapke saath?"

Suman nodded, her tone light. "Haan, papa. Amay ko kuch kaam tha. He said he’ll be home soon."

Anirudh gave an approving nod while Tara, with a slightly apologetic smile, said, "Sorry beta, main tumhe waha akele chhod aayi. Actually, hume ek zaroori kaam se nikalna pada."

Suman shook her head gently, offering her mother-in-law a reassuring smile. "No need to say sorry, maa. It’s completely okay."

The small exchange brought a warmth to the room, and soon enough, the conversation flowed into casual chatter.

They discussed the day, the family, and small details about the household.

As Suman sipped her tea, the earlier thoughts of Amay played softly in the back of her mind.

His trust, his warmth, the way he had become so effortlessly integrated into her life—all these things filled her with a quiet happiness.

For now, sitting with her in-laws, feeling a sense of belonging in this new home, Suman felt content.

Amay stormed into Digvijay's apartment, his jaw clenched in fury as he gripped the stem of his red wine glass, sipping it aggressively.

For Amay, red wine was reserved for rare moments of anger, and this was one of those moments.

Digvijay, lounging on the couch with a whiskey in hand, watched his friend storm in and rolled his eyes at the sight.

"Bataayega bhi, ya sirf wine peene aaya hai?" Digvijay asked, lifting a brow and taking a sip from his glass.

Amay barely glanced at him before spitting out, "He came to my office."

Digvijay frowned. "Who?"

"That bloody Ayush Agrawal."

Digvijay sighed, setting his glass down on the coffee table. "Kuch kaha usne?"

Amay's grip on his wine tightened, his voice low and dangerous. "He had the audacity to tell me he’d take away my Suman from me."

Digvijay's eyes darkened. "If you want, I can handle him."

Amay shook his head, letting out a frustrated breath. "Nah, I’m fine. And anyway, I can’t mix my professional and personal life. It's already messy enough."

"Fine," Digvijay said, leaning back and stretching. "Now, get out of my house."

Amay shot him a sideways glance. "Why, are you going to have sex with someone or something?"

Digvijay frowned. "No, you idiot. But shouldn’t you be going home?"

The realization hit Amay like a brick. "Shit," he muttered under his breath, quickly placing his wine glass on the table.

He grabbed his blazer, threw it over his arm, and bolted out of the apartment without another word, leaving Digvijay chuckling behind him.

Amay drove like a man possessed, cursing at the clock as he saw the time hit 9 PM.

He pulled into the Shekhawat mansion's driveway, practically jumping out of the car. "Damn it, I’m late," he muttered to himself, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

"Yes, you are," came a voice from behind, startling him.

He turned sharply to find Suman standing there, arms crossed against her chest.

The sight of her stopped him in his tracks.

He gulped, unsure if it was the lingering effect of the wine or the undeniable pull he felt toward her, but Suman looked sinfully gorgeous standing there, angry and all.

Her eyes, blazing with a mix of frustration and... something else, made his heart race.

Her gaze took in his appearance—his disheveled hair, the blazer draped over his arm, his shirt untucked with the top two buttons undone.

He looked like a complete mess.

But in her subconscious mind, all she could think was,

Oh boy, what a sexy piece of mess.

She quickly shrugged off those thoughts, focusing back on why she was upset.

"You’re late," she repeated, her tone stern.

He could only nod, feeling like a scolded child.

Suman raised an eyebrow, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Dinner karenge, ya kar ke aaye hain?"

Amay shook his head quickly, "I’ll have dinner with you. Tumne khaaya?"

She shook her head, crossing her arms tighter. "No, because someone promised me he’d be home early."

His heart sank.

He hated disappointing her, and the fact that he couldn’t keep his promise gnawed at him. "Just give me five minutes. I’ll freshen up, then we’ll eat together, okay?"

Suman nodded, her expression softening slightly as she watched him rush off toward their room.

In the meantime, she reheated the food, setting everything up on the dining table.

A few minutes later, Amay returned, looking more composed, though there was still an urgency in his steps.

He served dinner to her first, his gestures soft and careful, which made her stomach flutter.

She felt a rush of warmth at how attentive he was, even after being late. "Let’s eat," he said, his voice gentler now.

Suman smiled back, nodding, and they both sat down to enjoy their meal.

The silence between them wasn’t awkward; rather, it was filled with a quiet comfort, both of them content in each other’s presence.

For Suman, a new sense of emotion bloomed—this man, who cared so much for her, was slowly and steadily becoming someone she trusted with her heart.

And the butterflies that fluttered inside her with each of his gestures told her she might be falling for him faster than she realized.

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