𝗩𝗜𝗩𝗔𝗔𝗡'𝗦 𝗣.𝗢.𝗩

I am the only one aware of the immense effort I have invested in persuading my parents to meet Simran's family regarding our wedding proposal.

My parents traveled to India on an urgent basis, and I must mention that they departed immediately after the wedding rituals were completed.

As I entered my room, I found Simran sitting in front of the mirror, hastily removing her jewelry.

"You could have at least waited for me," I remarked. She flinched momentarily before turning to face me.

"I will never wait for you. Who do you think you are? I never wanted to marry you. You made my life miserable during our school years, and now you expect me to forget all of that," she retorted, standing on her tiptoes, though she remained shorter than I.

I wrapped my arm around her waist, drawing her closer until our chests met.

"Miserable? I taught you everything with patience. You are no longer a schoolgirl; you are a fashion designer now. Why dwell on the past?" I inquired, leaning down to whisper in her ear.

"Do you design lingerie as well? I would like to see your collection," I whispered, playfully biting her earlobe while my hand deftly removed her earring and placed it on the table.

These heavy earrings must have been uncomfortable for her.

"Pervert!" she exclaimed, pushing me with all her might.

"I thought we were friends," I replied, but she retaliated by stomping on my foot.

"I am not your friend. You marry me, and now you will suffer. I will have multiple boyfriends and enjoy myself while you remain preoccupied with your company, as usual," she shouted, irritation etched on her face as she angrily attempted to untie her lehenga.

However, we all know that rushing things often leads to further delays.

I firmly grasped her hand and gazed into her eyes.

"Stop," I commanded calmly yet authoritatively.

She halted and withdrew her hands. I swiftly untied the knot, expecting the lehenga to fall, but it remained in place as she raised her arms.

"What?"

"Take me out. Can't you see I can't exit on my own?" she insisted, again rising onto her toes.

I placed my hand beneath her armpit and lifted her up. It did not surprise me to see her wearing jeans beneath her lehenga.

One could say I have observed her closely for far too long to be unaware of her choices.

"Do you need some help with your blouse?" I asked in a teasing manner. She turned around, placing her hands on her hips.

"Fu..."

I quickly placed my finger on her lips. She is well aware that I disapprove of such language coming from her. I do not intend to act as her parent, but hearing such words from her innocent lips provokes my anger. Moreover what will my parents think if she says something in front of them.

"You know I find that unacceptable, kitten," I whispered, removing my finger from her lips.

She shot me a glare before turning towards the bathroom.

Little does she know how deeply I have loved her over the years. I am certain she has feelings for me as well, though she may not fully recognize them. I can read the emotions in the eyes of my wild kitty.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*

𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞

"Sir, there is a mall opening today. Your father has provided you with an invitation and insisted that I take you there."

"If you value your job, then please drive me to a quiet café where I can enjoy an espresso in peace," I replied, maintaining a calm tone while focusing on my tablet.

Managing one’s own business is a significant undertaking. It is not that my father is unwilling to provide all his resources; he has already supported me by investing initial capital. However, overseeing a UK-based company from this location presents its challenges. I have little patience for lazy employees, yet it seems I have encountered many.

"Sir, we have arrived."

I glanced out the window to find a well-decorated and likely clean cafe.

We chose a table by the window, surrounded by numerous floral decorations, their fragrance delightfully sweet.

"Sir, may I take your order?" I heard a voice as sweet as the flowers themselves.

I gaze at the young girl holding a notepad and pen, and I must admit, she is undeniably beautiful. I remove my sunglasses to see her more clearly.

"One espresso and, as usual, a latte for me, and please do not forget a cupcake," my assistant requests, a gentle smile gracing his face as he speaks to her, which leaves me somewhat perplexed.

"I personally decorated the cupcakes today. I will bring a strawberry-flavored cupcake," she replies, tapping her pen while looking at me.

"Is there anything else you would like, sir?"

"No," I respond, diverting my gaze from her.

"Who is she?" I inquired of my assistant, after she left who smiles once more before responding.

"She is a student at one of your father's schools. I have visited here several times. She is truly a sweetheart."

"A student? Is she still in school?" I ask, though I cannot quite grasp why this information unsettles me. I have no justification for my feelings.

"Yes, sir, she is likely sixteen or seventeen. Let me ask her about her class," he says just as the same young woman returns to our table with our order.

"Enjoy."

"Wait, have you completed your schooling?" he asks again.

I await her response with curiosity.

"Uncle, I wish what you said were true. I will be in the twelfth grade in twelve months. The teachers are driving me crazy. I swear I will punch one of them someday," she replies before leaving us to enjoy our meal. I chuckle at her antics; she is indeed charming.

"I want to know more about her. Please provide me with her details."

"Sir, do not entertain such thoughts. You cannot pursue a schoolgirl. You will find..."

"Did I express a desire to pursue her? I merely requested her information. She studies at our school and has expressed a wish to punch a teacher. I want to understand why. Now, let us return to the office," I assert in a firm tone.