Page 127

But what I like now is that despite the heat of the moment, he’s thinking ahead—thinking about us. That brings a smile to my face, my heart swelling with love for this man who puts thought into everything.

Vishnu leaves for the bedroom, but he’s back almost instantly. He gazes into my eyes as he sheaths himself, and then he leans down, brushing his lips over mine, his hands caressing my thighs possessively.

“But don’t think this changes anything,” he murmurs against my lips. “I still want two more babies from you… whenever you’re ready. And this time, I’ll be there for every single moment I missed during Veer’s pregnancy.”

I cup his face, my fingers stroking his stubble.

“If you ask me in this position,” I gasp, “I might just agree to give you a dozen more. Now stop talking and get to it... I’m dying for you.”

He groans, his lips crashing against mine as he finally gives in. Vishnu grips my hips, pulling me flush against him as we move together, our breaths mingling, our bodies in perfect harmony. I cling to him, my fingers digging into his back as the tension coils and unravels within me. I bite my lip to muffle the cries threatening to escape me while he buries his face in my neck, his deep groans vibrating against my skin.

In this moment, the rest of the world fades away. The night is young, and we have so much love to give each other.

****************

An hour later, we lay entwined in each other’s arms. Vishnu’s fingers weave through my hair as I rest my cheek against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“Promise me you’ll talk to your dad tomorrow and sign those papers,” I demand, my fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest.

He chuckles, his arms tightening around me. “You’re are such big trouble, Mrs. Walia.”

“And you love it,” I tease, tilting my head to meet his gaze.

His eyes soften, and he leans down to kiss me again, slow and sweet. “I do,” he whispers against my lips. “More than you’ll ever know. Because even I have, and I will love you till my last breath, Simran.”

He kisses me again. Those three magical words—his love confession is enough to intoxicate me for this lifetime. I savour the kiss until he pulls away, forcing me to open my eyes and look at him.

“I’ll talk to Dad and sign those papers,” he agrees, his thumb tracing my cheekbone. “But not until the threat on you has died down.”

I open my mouth to argue, but he silences me up with another fierce kiss, then pulls back enough to speak, “I want my wife safe first, and this is non-negotiable. I’ve only just found you, and I’m not ready to risk losing you now.”

I sigh, giving in to his only demand, and then I close my eyes, letting Vishnu’s love take over completely. In this moment, nothing else matters—not the threats, not the papers, not the world outside. It’s just us, and this love that’s been waiting to be spoken all along.

The narrow alleyways of Mumbai’s Chor Bazaar pulse with life, even as dusk settles over the city. Between the haggling voices and the smell of street food, he moves like a shadow through the bustling crowd, hiding his real purpose behind aimless browsing. This is a place where men with a purpose like him trade secrets as easily as stolen goods. The joker mask he’s become known for is safely hidden in his backpack. He doesn’t need it here in these shadowy markets.

Pulling his hood low to cover his face, he pauses at a stall displaying rows of dismantled electronics: cameras, phone components, and a few outdated drones. His eyes scan the clutter.Useless.He needs something more precise, something powerful.

The elderly shopkeeper watches him with suspicious eyes as he examines what appears to be a damaged drone.

“Drones,” he says to the shopkeeper. “Not these toys. I need the real deal—military-grade or custom-built.”

The shopkeeper’s eyes narrow sharply, assessing him. “Not here. Too risky.”

He leans closer, his tone dropping to a menacing whisper. “I didn’t ask for your opinion. I asked where.”

The man gulps, then gestures toward a dimly lit alley at the back of the market.

“Basheer,” he mumbles. “He deals with… special orders. German technology. You won’t find better anywhere else in Mumbai.”

He nods curtly, and turns away, not bothering with pleasantries. Gratitude isn’t a currency he deals in.

“Use the back entrance,” the shopkeeper shouts from behind him as he disappears into the shadows without a backward glance, his steps purposeful, his mind razor-focused.

This is just the beginning. The drone is just one piece of the much larger, intricately woven puzzle, but it’s a critical one. With it, he’ll create chaos, fear—and eventually, destruction.

By the time they realise what’s really happening, it will be too late. Soon, very soon, everything will fall into place.

CHAPTER 32