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The next morning, the "Rathore Headquarters"—a towering monolith of glass and steel—was humming with its usual corporate anxiety. Employees scurried through the lobby, terrified of being a minute late for the "Devil’s" morning briefing.

.........................

At 12:30 PM, a yellow taxi pulled up to the curb. Out stepped Aanvi, looking like a sunbeam in a forest of grey suits. She was wearing a simple, bright yellow floral kurta, her hair tied in a loose braid that kept slipping over her shoulder.

In her hands, she clutched a heavy, three-tier stainless steel tiffin box.

"Okay, Aanvi. You can do this," she whispered to herself, her "baby nature" giving her a boost of nervous energy. "Just walk in, find the elevator, and don't trip on the shiny floor."

She took three steps into the lobby and—of course—her sandal caught on the edge of the plush rug. She wobbled dangerously, the tiffin clanking loudly.

"Whoa! Careful there, kid," a security guard said, rushing over. He looked at her youthful face and the lunch box. "The delivery entrance is around the back. And shouldn't you be in college?"

Aanvi puffed out her cheeks, a classic pout forming. "I'm not a delivery girl! I'm here to see Shivank-ji. I mean... Mr. Rathore."

The guard shared a laugh with the receptionist. "Sweetheart, everyone wants to see Mr. Rathore, but unless you're a billionaire or a supermodel, you aren't getting past this desk. Why don't you leave the lunch here? I'm sure his assistant will... eventually... get it."

"No!" Aanvi gripped the tiffin tighter. "I made the aloo parathas myself! Well, Maa helped. But I flipped them! I have to give them to him hot."

The Chaos Ascends

Just then, Kavya walked in, having planned to meet Aanvi for moral support. She saw the scene and smirked.

"Step aside, boys," Kavya said, flashing her high-level security pass. "She’s with me. And trust me, if you turn her away, Shivank will have your heads on a silver platter for lunch instead of those parathas."

The guards blinked in shock as Kavya whisked the "delivery girl" straight toward the private executive elevator.

Upstairs, the atmosphere was lethal. Shivank was in the middle of a high-stakes presentation. Ten senior directors sat trembling as Shivank tore through their quarterly reports.

"This marketing strategy is pathetic," Shivank snapped, throwing a file onto the glass table. "If I wanted to lose money, I’d throw it off the roof. I want a new plan by—"

Creek...

The heavy mahogany door to the conference room swung open. The directors gasped. No one interrupted the Devil during a war council.

Aanvi poked her head in, her eyes wide as she saw the room full of serious men in suits. "Oh... are you busy, Shivank-ji?"

The silence was deafening. Shivank froze, his hand still mid-air from his angry gesture. He looked at Aanvi, then at the tiffin, then at the smudge of flour she had somehow managed to get on her forehead again.

"Aanvi?" he said, his voice dropping from 'Nuclear' to 'Baffled.'

"I brought lunch!" she chirped, her "baby nature" completely ignoring the terrifying aura of the room. She trotted inside, her bangles jingling. "Maa said you probably didn't eat breakfast because you were grumpy this morning. And I wanted to say thank you for the medicine!"

One of the directors cleared his throat. "Mr. Rathore, who is this... girl?"

Shivank’s eyes snapped to the director, turning back into ice. "This 'girl' is my wife. And if any of you breathe a word about this interruption being a problem, you’re fired before she sets that tiffin down."

He stood up, walked over to her, and took the heavy box from her hands. "You came all the way here? In a taxi? Alone?"

"I had Kavya!" Aanvi said, beaming at him. She reached up and, in front of the most powerful men in the company, wiped a stray hair from Shivank’s forehead. "You look tired. Stop shouting at these poor uncles and eat your parathas."

The "poor uncles" (the directors) stared at their laps, trying not to explode from the sheer absurdity of the moment.

Shivank looked at the tiffin, then at his wife’s expectant, sweet face. He turned to the board. "Meeting adjourned. Get out. All of you."

They scrambled out of the room in record time.

Once the room was empty, Shivank sat Aanvi down in his massive leather chair—she looked like a doll sitting in a throne. He opened the tiffin, the smell of fresh butter and spices filling the sterile office.

"You're a disaster, Aanvi," he murmured, sitting on the edge of the desk and picking up a piece of the paratha. "Coming into a board meeting like that."

"But did you like it?" she asked, leaning forward, her eyes sparkling. "The surprise?"

Shivank chewed slowly. It was the best thing he’d tasted in years. He reached out and caught her chin, pulling her closer until her nose touched his.

"I liked it," he admitted, his voice a low, rough caress. "But from now on, you call me before you enter a room full of men. My 'strict' side doesn't like sharing your smiles with the staff."

Aanvi giggled and hugged his arm. "I'll try! But I can't promise I won't trip into another meeting next week!"

After lunch, Shivank had to attend a quick signing downstairs. "Stay here, Aanvi. I’ll have my driver take you and Kavya home in ten minutes. Don't wander off."

"I won't! I'll just look at the pretty fish in the lobby," she promised, giving him a bright, innocent salute.

As Aanvi walked out of the executive suite toward the elevators, she ran into Tanya, Shivank’s lead secretary. Tanya was the office's "Ice Queen"—sharp, ambitious, and secretly harboring a crush on her boss for years. She hadn't been in the boardroom to see the "tiffin incident."

Tanya looked Aanvi up and down, seeing the yellow floral kurta and the slightly messy braid. To her, Aanvi looked like a low-level assistant or, worse, a delivery girl.

"Excuse me," Tanya snapped, her voice dripping with condensation. "The service elevator is at the end of the hall. This area is for executive staff only. You shouldn't be wandering around Mr. Rathore's private floor."

Aanvi blinked, her "baby nature" making her shrink back a little. "Oh, I-I was just leaving. Shivank-ji said—"

"Shivank-ji?" Tanya cut her off with a sharp, mocking laugh. "You call him Shivank-ji? How adorable. Look, little girl, Mr. Rathore is a very busy man. He doesn't have time for local catering staff or whatever you are. Take your empty box and leave before I call security."

Aanvi’s lower lip began to tremble. She clutched the empty tiffin to her chest. "I'm not catering staff. I'm his—"

"I don't care who you are," Tanya hissed, stepping into Aanvi’s personal space. "You're a distraction. People like you don't belong in a building like this. Now, move."

"Is there a problem here?"

The voice was like a thunderclap. Tanya spun around, her face instantly shifting into a polished, flirtatious smile. "Oh, Mr. Rathore! Nothing at all. I was just telling this... young lady... that she shouldn't be loitering in the executive wing. I was about to have her escorted out."

Shivank walked forward, his stride slow and predatory. He didn't even look at Tanya. His eyes were fixed on Aanvi, noticing the way her eyes were beginning to well up with tears.

He stopped right next to Aanvi and wrapped a heavy, protective arm around her shoulders, pulling her flush against his side.

"You were going to have my wife escorted out of her own building, Tanya?" Shivank asked. His voice was quiet—the kind of quiet that usually preceded a corporate massacre.

Tanya’s face went from pale to ghostly white. "W-Wife? But... she... I thought..."

"You thought what? That because she doesn't dress like a shark, she doesn't belong here?" Shivank stepped closer to Tanya, his height and aura of "Strict CEO" completely crushing her. "Aanvi belongs anywhere I am. In fact, she owns more of this company’s shares than you’ll ever see in your lifetime."

"I... I'm so sorry, Sir. I didn't know—"

"That’s the problem, Tanya. You don't know your place," Shivank said coldly. "Go to HR. Collect your things. You’re fired. I don't employ people who treat my family—or anyone else—with such blatant disrespect."

"Shivank-ji, no," Aanvi whispered, pulling at his sleeve. "It’s okay! She was just doing her job. I do look a little messy today."

Shivank looked down at Aanvi. His expression softened in a way that made Tanya realize she never had a chance. He reached out and gently wiped a tear from Aanvi’s cheek with his thumb.

"She wasn't doing her job, Aanvi. She was being mean to you. And that is a fireable offense in my book." He looked back at the trembling secretary. "Leave. Now."

Shivank didn't wait for Tanya to respond. He took the tiffin from Aanvi’s hand and gave it to a passing intern. Then, he laced his fingers firmly with Aanvi’s, his large hand completely protecting hers.

"Come on," he said, leadng her toward the private elevator. "I'm taking the rest of the afternoon off."

"But your meetings!" Aanvi gasped, trying to keep up with his long strides.

"The meetings can wait," he murmured, pressing the button for the garage. He looked at her, a small, genuine smile finally breaking through his mask. "My wife had a rough day at the office. I think we need to go find that ice cream factory I promised."

Aanvi’s eyes lit up. "Ten ice creams?"

Shivank groaned, but he was smiling. "Don't push your luck, Aanvi. Two. And you have to share one with me.".

Continue..................