Page 85 of Cherish my Heart

“Will you hold me tonight?” she whispers after a pause, drawing little patterns on my palm. “I… I won’t be able to sleep alone.”

I nod.

How could I ever say no? She leans into me, and I wrap my arms around her, this time not to shield her from a blast but from everything else that still might come.

And for tonight, at least—she’s safe.

CHAPTER 42

ADITI

I don’t remember if I’ve seen Abhimaan like this.

Asleep. Peacefully. His body tangled with mine, his chest rising in steady rhythm under my palm, his brows relaxed for once. No tension between them, no tightness in his jaw, and no haunted lines around his mouth. Just stillness. Soft, rare, almost childlike stillness.

Abhimaan, the man who wakes up before the sun, the one who beats half the company to the office even before the chaiwala sets up his stall—he’s asleep. At 9 AM.

I blink at the time on my phone again, just to be sure.

Yup. Nine freaking AM.

And I’m supposed to be at work.

But here I am. In bed. Wrapped in his arms. With my boss-cum-boyfriend holding me like I’m the only thing tethering him to this world.

The past twenty-four hours were a whirlwind, but the moment he told me what happened—the car, the betrayal, the man who almost took him from me—I haven’t been able to shake the weight sitting on my chest.

I watch him now, one arm flung around my waist, his face buried in the crook of my neck, lips brushing the sensitive spot just under my jaw. My phone glows with the tabs I opened last night, the name flashing again and again across the screen.

Anil.

The man responsible for trying to kill him. I scroll through another article quietly, careful not to wake Abhimaan, though that seems unlikely. He’s dead to the world right now. And I’ve never seen him like this. Which makes me worry. Is he okay?

Is he tired because of the emotional weight from yesterday?

Because if he is, then I’ll make it my mission to find every last thing that makes him feel unsafe and burn it to the ground. No hesitation. Including that, Anil. Which is why I am reading everything I can find on Google about him. Because if you fight an enemy, know them well.

I close the tab, lock my phone, and slide it under the pillow. My hand returns to his hair, fingers threading through the silky strands, combing them gently.

“You’re mine now,” I whisper to no one in particular, “and Malhotras don’t take it lightly when someone hurts the people we love.” I have Malhotra blood running in me. We don’t let people hurt our own. We ruin them. So if that bastard ever crosses our path again, he’ll wish he hadn’t. Because I will burn everything he touches.

He stirs slightly, murmuring something incoherent before nestling closer, his hand tightening around my waist. And then—his lips move against my skin, a sleepy slur escaping him. “Mmm… you smell good…”

I freeze, then smile.

“You’re awake,” I say softly.

“Mm-mm. Not yet. Dreaming.”

“Dreaming of me?” I tease.

He makes a content sound that could mean anything, and then I feel him shift slightly. His eyes open—slow, unfocused—and then suddenly snap fully awake when he sees the sunlight peeking through the curtains.

He jerks up slightly, eyes wide. “What time is it?”

I smirk, stretching languidly beside him. “Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

He blinks at me like I’ve grown another head. “No seriously, what time is it?”