Page 86 of No Boss
“Two. Complete honesty. Everything. Even what does not work.”
“Yes.”
“Three. At the end of seven days, my decision stands. No arguments.”
The light in her eyes dimmed for an instant, then returned with resolve.
“Agreed. All of it.”
She stepped back, adjusting her dupatta. Then, unexpectedly, she dipped her head. Not out of obligation. In acknowledgment. Of him. Of his title.
“Hukum.”
Then she was gone. Her footsteps were quick, purposeful, fading down the corridor with her plans and her seven days.
Abhinav stood very still.
Hukum.
He had heard it countless times since arriving in Jaipur. From staff. From strangers. From those who understood its weight.
But this… this was the first time Meera had said it.
Meera, who threw the wordBosslike a challenge. Meera, who met him head-on, who never bent without choice.
The word had a music to it when she said it. A cadence that lingered longer than it should have, settling in a place he could not shut out.
An image rose.
That word in her voice. But not like this. Not in a formal bow in a sunlit office. In the darkness. Breathy. Unsteady.
His hands pressed flat against the desk.
Meera beneath him, her head tilted back, hair spread across his bed, her fingers gripping the sheets as if they were the only thing holding her in place. That word leaving her like she had nothing else left to give, nothing else left to say. A demand. A plea. A prayer.
It stayed.
Not as an image.
As a feeling.
He had wanted women before. Known attraction. Known desire.
This wasn’t desire. This went deeper.
It was recognition.
The kind that did not ask permission. The kind that altered ground without warning.
And all that remained was the question of what he intended to do with it.
He exhaled, ran a hand through his hair, and straightened his shirt. His gaze went to the closed door where her footsteps had already faded.
Seven days.
His eyes darkened, resolve settling in.
He was going to find out exactly what had already begun between them.
