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“If you don’t wrap this up soon, I’ll come down there and ‘help’ you out of that blazer myself. Your choice, Mr. Walia. Do you want me to come…?”

I almost choke. A low, involuntary gasp escapes me, and I press the phone to my thigh, squeezing my eyes shut for a brief second. My body betrays me, and I feel the heat creeping up my neck.

Simran notices. Oh, she notices. Her grin turns into a full-blown smirk, and she raises a brow as if to ask,‘What are you going to do now?’

I take a deep breath, forcing my eyes back to Dad. He’s mid-sentence about campaign schedules, completely oblivious to the war raging inside me.

But I can’t focus. Simran’s texts are like a siren’s call, impossible to ignore. And she knows it. My gaze flicks back upstairs, and she mouths,‘One more message?’

No f*cking way! I shake my head at her, a stern warning in my expression, but she only winks.

I know I’m losing this battle. I want to be there with her. Like right f*cking now.

Dad’s voice pulls me back. “Vishnu, are you sure you’re alright? You really look distracted.”

I plaster on my most convincing smile. “I’m fine, Dad. Just... a lot on my mind.”

“Yeah, a lot. And her name is Simran,” he teases, placing his specs on the table with a knowing smirk.

I freeze.

My head snaps toward him, shocked that he noticed. Seriously? When did my father start paying attention to things like this?

Dad chuckles at my reaction, leaning back in his chair like he’s enjoying every second of this.

“Son, you might be good at handling enemies, politics, and security threats, but you are absolutely terrible at hiding things when it comes to your wife.”

I rub my jaw, heat creeping up my neck. “Dad, it’s not like—”

“Don’t even try,” he cuts me off, laughing. “She’s been up there for the last ten minutes, pretending to be invisible, but I’ve watched her distracting you the entire time.”

Simran, reading my expression, quickly realises that Dad has caught her. Her eyes widen and her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She mumbles something like‘Shit’and bolts into our bedroom, leaving me to face Dad’s teasing alone.Traitor, I think to myself.

Dad shakes his head, thoroughly amused. “Alright, let’s call it a night. Not that I don’t enjoy watching you turn different shades of red from your wife’s teasing.”

“Dad, c’mon…” I roll my eyes, hiding my embarrassment with a smirk, before standing up.

He only grins wider, clearly entertained.

Still smirking, he pulls me into a firm hug. “Happy birthday again, Vishnu,” he says softly. “You know how much I love you, my son.”

Something in my chest tightens. Despite everything—the threats, the chaos, the constant battles—this moment of peace, of love, means everything to me.

I step back, nodding at him. “I love you too, Dad. Goodnight.”

He waves me off, still grinning as I turn toward the staircase.

As I climb the stairs, I know exactly what—orwho—is waiting for me behind that bedroom door.

And this time, I have no intention of resisting my beautiful wife.

I step inside the bedroom, shutting the door behind me with a quiet click. My eyes immediately find her—Simran, standing at the dressing table, running a brush through her long, silken hair. A smile tugs at my lips—those gorgeous strands will soon be tangled around my fingers anyway. The sight of her is intoxicating. She’s wrapped in that satin robe, the one she knows drives me crazy because I know exactly what’s beneath it.

She meets my gaze in the mirror, her lips curling into a slow, seductive smile before she turns around to face me.

I walk to the bed, watching her as if she’s my conquest—because she is. I sit down, my hands pressed against the mattress.

“What were you saying about this blazer?” I ask, though we both know exactly what she meant by those messages that had been driving me crazy downstairs.