
Helloo babies here is chapter 3 of his kitten share all the love you cannot ❤️❤️❤️ like and comment tooo i love reading your comments.....
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Shivankled Aanvi to the plush velvet sofa in his study, ignoring the fact that his high-stakes meeting was currently in a state of "unplugged" chaos. He disappeared for a moment and returned with a first-aid kit and a bowl of cool water.
"Sit," he commanded, his voice firm but no longer icy.
Aanvi sat on the very edge of the sofa, looking small surrounded by his massive bookshelves and dark leather furniture. She watched, wide-eyed, as the man who terrified the nation’s top CEOs knelt on the floor at her feet.
He didn't speak. He took her hand—his large, tanned fingers dwarfing her pale, slender ones—and lowered her injured finger into the cool water. Aanvi hissed slightly at the contact.
"I told you to be careful," Shivank muttered, his eyes focused entirely on the small red welt on her knuckle. "Why were you making tea yourself? We have a dozen staff members for that."
"They were busy helping Maa with the guest list," Aanvi whispered, her heart fluttering at his proximity. "And I... I wanted to do something for you. You looked so stressed this morning."
Shivank’s hand tightened almost imperceptibly around hers. He lifted her hand from the water and patted it dry with a soft gauze, his movements incredibly precise. He then opened a tube of burn ointment.
"You're a billionaire, Shivank," she said softly, watching him apply the cream with the gentlest touch. "Your time is worth lakhs per minute. You shouldn't be doing this."
Shivank paused, his dark eyes snapping up to meet hers. "In this house, I am not a billionaire, Aanvi. I am your husband. And if my wife is hurt because she was trying to be kind to me, then my time belongs to her."
Aanvi felt a blush creep up her neck. This was the "rude" Shivank the world knew, but the words he spoke were anything but cold. He carefully wrapped a fresh bandage around her finger, securing it with a small piece of medical tape.
A Moment of Vulnerability
Once finished, he didn't let go of her hand. He traced the line of her palm with his thumb, a rhythmic, soothing motion.
"Does it still hurt?" he asked, his voice dropping to a low, intimate register.
"No," she breathed. "It feels better now."
Shivank looked at the bandage, then back at her face. The silence in the room was no longer heavy with his usual aura of intimidation; it was thick with something new—something that felt dangerously like affection.
"Next time you want to be 'helpful,' just sit in here and read a book," he said, finally letting go of her hand and standing up. He regained his towering posture, smoothing out his suit jacket. "At least I can keep an eye on you if you're in the same room."
Aanvi smiled, a bright, genuine thing that made Shivank’s chest ache in a way he couldn't explain. "Are you saying you want me to stay with you while you work?"
Shivank turned his back to her, heading toward his desk to resume the meeting he had unceremoniously ditched. "I'm saying I can't afford the insurance premiums if you keep setting the kitchen on fire. Now stay put."
He sat down, put on his headset, and clicked the 'Join' button. As the faces of the confused investors reappeared on the screen, Shivank’s face turned back to stone.
"Gentlemen," he said to the camera, his tone sharp enough to cut glass. "The issue has been resolved. Now, back to the 5% margin increase. I believe I was explaining why your current proposal is garbage."
Across the room, Aanvi tucked her feet under her on the sofa, a small smile playing on her lips. She watched him work—the way his jaw tightened when he was thinking, the way he commanded the room without even standing up. He was a monster to the world, but he was her monster, and he had just spent ten minutes fixing a tiny burn on her hand.
The high-stakes meeting had finally ended. Shivank rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling the familiar tension behind his eyes. He had just demolished a rival’s argument and saved thirty million dollars, but his mind wasn't on the money. It was on the girl sitting three feet away.
He turned his chair around. Aanvi hadn’t moved from the sofa, but she wasn’t reading the book he’d given her. Instead, she was staring intently at the glass paperweight on his desk—a heavy sphere with a preserved dandelion inside.
"Aanvi?"
She jumped slightly, her eyes wide. "Oh! Is the meeting over? Were the computer people nice to you today?"
Shivank suppressed a huff. "The 'computer people' were terrified, as they should be."
Aanvi pouted, her lower lip sticking out in a way that was dangerously cute. "That's not good, Shivank-ji. If you’re mean to them, they might go home and be sad. You should say 'please' sometimes."
"I don't pay them for 'please,' I pay them for results," he countered, though his voice had lost its edge. He watched as she stood up, her movements cautious because of her bandaged hand. She walked over to his desk, her eyes fixed on his bowl of colorful paperclips.
Without asking, she began to link them together, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth in total concentration.
"What are you doing?" Shivank asked, mesmerized by her simple focus.
"Making a necklace for your lion," she whispered, pointing to the bronze lion statue on his bookshelf. "He looks too serious. Like you. He needs a little jewelry to feel pretty."
Shivank stared at her. Here was a woman who could be wearing the world's rarest diamonds, and she was genuinely excited about making a chain out of office supplies.
"You have a smudge of ink on your nose," he said softly.
Aanvi’s eyes went wide, and she immediately tried to rub it off with her sleeve, but in her "baby-like" haste, she ended up knocking his pen stand over. Pens rolled everywhere.
"Oh no! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" She scrambled to pick them up, nearly bumping her head on the edge of the desk.
"Stop. Stop moving," Shivank commanded. He stood up, walked around the desk, and gently took her by the shoulders. He felt her trembling slightly—not out of fear, but out of that innocent frustration she felt whenever her hands didn't obey her heart.
He took his silk handkerchief and tilted her chin up. Her face was tilted back, her eyes looking up at him with such pure, unfiltered trust that it made his lungs feel tight. He wiped the ink off her nose with a touch so delicate it was as if he were cleaning a masterpiece.
"You're like a toddler," he murmured, his thumb lingering on her cheek. "I leave you alone for ten minutes and you've started a jewelry business and a stationery riot."
Aanvi giggled, a tiny, bubbly sound. "But the lion looks better now, doesn't he?"
Shivank looked at the bronze lion, now wearing a lopsided chain of neon pink and blue paperclips. It looked ridiculous. It looked unprofessional. It was the most beautiful thing in his office.
"Yes," Shivank lied, his gaze dropping to her soft, smiling lips. "He looks much better."
The moment was interrupted by Kavya bursting into the room. "Bhai! Aanvi! Mom says the ice cream man is outside the gates! Aanvi, if we run, we can get the chocolate bars before they melt!"
Aanvi’s eyes lit up like it was Christmas morning. "Chocolate bars! Shivank, can I go? Please?"
She actually bounced on the balls of her feet, her "baby nature" taking over completely at the prospect of a simple treat.
Shivank sighed, reaching into his pocket and handing her a few bills. "Go. But if you run and fall on the gravel, I’m not carrying you back."
"Yes you will!" Aanvi chirped, grabbing the money and blowing him a quick, accidental kiss from her hand before dashing out of the room with Kavya.
Shivank stood in his silent, cold office, looking at the paperclip necklace on his lion. He leaned back against his desk and let out a long breath.
"I'm definitely going to have to carry her back," he whispered to the empty room.
The dining table was a grand affair of carved teak and fine bone china, but the atmosphere was unusually lively for the Rathore household. Digvijay was regaling the table with a story about his gardening mishaps, while Gayatri kept piling extra portions onto Aanvi’s plate.
Shivank sat at the head, a dark, silent contrast to the warmth around him. He was cutting his steak with clinical precision when his father cleared his throat.
"By the way," Digvijay said, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. "The Singhanias called. They’re stopping by tomorrow evening to discuss the new textile merger. Meera will be joining them."
Shivank’s jaw tightened. He knew Meera’s "discussions" usually involved trying to get as close to him as possible. He glanced toward Aanvi, expecting her to be curious, but his wife was currently preoccupied.
“A-choo!”
Aanvi’s small frame shuddered as she let out a tiny, high-pitched sneeze. She immediately grabbed her napkin, looking embarrassed.
“A-choo! A-choo!”
"Bless you, beta," Gayatri said, her brow furrowing with concern. "Are you alright? Your nose is turning pink."
Aanvi opened her mouth to reply, but a dry cough shook her instead. She took a quick sip of water, her eyes darting nervously toward Shivank, who had stopped eating. He was watching her with a terrifyingly focused gaze.
"Aanvi," Shivank’s voice was a low, dangerous rumble.
She froze, the glass of water still halfway to her lips. "Yes, Shivank-ji?"
"How many ice creams did you have this afternoon?"
The silence that followed was heavy. Aanvi’s eyes went wide, and she immediately looked down at her plate, poking at a piece of broccoli. She pouted, her lower lip trembling just a fraction.
"I... I just had a little bit," she whispered. “A-choo!”
Shivank slammed his fork down—not hard enough to break anything, but enough to make the crystal glasses ring. He turned his head slowly toward Kavya, who was suddenly very interested in her salad.
"Kavya," Shivank snapped, his tone strictly authoritative. "Look at me."
Kavya gulped, looking at her brother’s face. When Shivank used that 'CEO voice' at home, it meant the board meeting had started, and she was the one being audited. "Yes, Bhai?"
"You were with her. Tell me exactly how many ice cream bars she consumed."
Kavya looked at Aanvi, who was giving her a pleading, 'don't-betray-me' look. Then she looked at Shivank’s narrowed eyes. The fear of her brother's wrath won.
"She... she might have had nine," Kavya squeaked, bracing herself. "But they were small! And the orange ones were so refreshing, and then the chocolate man came by, and—"
"Nine?" Shivank’s voice rose an octave, sounding both horrified and furious.
Aanvi let out another sneeze and sniffled, looking like a kicked puppy. "They were very small, Shivank-ji... and they were melting! I was helping them not go to waste."
"Nine ice creams in February, Aanvi! You have the constitution of a marshmallow!" Shivank stood up, his tall frame towering over the table.
"Shivank, don't be so harsh," Gayatri tried to intervene, though she was hiding a smile behind her hand. "She's just a child at heart."
"She’s a child with a fever starting," Shivank retorted. He walked around the table, and before Aanvi could protest, he pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. His touch was firm, but his eyes were filled with an intensity that wasn't just anger—it was pure, unadulterated worry.
"You're burning up," he growled.
He didn't ask. He reached down, tucked one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, and lifted her straight out of her chair.
"Shivank! My dinner!" Aanvi gasped, her hands instinctively flying to his neck to steady herself.
"You’re finished. You’re going to bed, and I’m calling the doctor," he said, turning toward the stairs. Over his shoulder, he shot a glare at his sister. "Kavya, if I find out you encouraged the ninth one, your credit card is cancelled for a month."
As he carried a pouting, sneezing Aanvi up the stairs, Digvijay chuckled and took a sip of his wine. "He’s so 'merciless,' isn't he, Gayatri?"
Gayatri smiled, watching her son carefully cradle his wife as if she were made of the finest glass. "Oh, absolutely. The most 'ruthless' man in Delhi is currently losing a war to a girl and nine ice creams. ,
PRECAP: Upstairs Shivank’s "soft side" is about to come out in full force as he stays up all night to take care of his sick wife. But tomorrow, the Singhanias arrive, and a sneezing Aanvi will have to face a very elegant Meera.
CONTINUE......................♥️
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