Aditi could still remember that night as though it had happened only yesterday—the first night of their marriage, when he had carried her across the threshold of their bedroom in true filmy bridal style. His arms were strong, steady, protective, but his eyes gleamed with something else—mischief, hunger, love all mingling together.

He laid her gently on the bed, as though she were made of glass, and then braced himself over her, caging her with his broad shoulders. The soft golden glow of the bedside lamps flickered against his bare skin, highlighting every cut of muscle, every sharp line of his jaw.

His voice, when it came, was a low, velvety whisper that made her shiver. "Hmm... so now that we are married," he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear as he bit down gently on her earlobe, "no more tantrums of 'not before marriage,' hmm?"

Aditi—lioness in boardrooms, a woman who could crush a man with a single glare—suddenly felt like a helpless kitten beneath him. Her lips parted, but no words came, only a rush of warmth that spread across her cheeks.

Advait smirked at her reaction, his deep chuckle rumbling against her skin. "So," he whispered again, voice dripping with sinful promise, "shall we start... the manufacture?"

Her brows furrowed adorably, her CEO brain immediately clicking into business mode. "But we have to arrange raw material—"

He threw his head back and laughed, the rich sound filling the room, before stealing a quick kiss from her lips. "Monkey," he teased, shaking his head, "I didn't mean the company. I meant manufacture of kids, darling. And we will need to work very hard on production... because I want mass production."

Her jaw dropped. Blood rushed to her face so quickly she thought she might combust. "Mass production?" she squeaked, hiding her face in her hands.

"Oh yes," he murmured huskily, catching her wrists and pinning them gently above her head. His lips grazed the corner of her mouth as he added wickedly, "And as for raw material—I'll fuck you raw all night. What do you say?"

Aditi's entire body flushed crimson. Her laughter bubbled out, nervous but delighted, as she buried her face in the pillow. "Mass production? Raw material? You're disgusting! I thought you were a good boy," she scolded, peeking at him with wide, incredulous eyes.

"Good boy?" His smirk widened into something darker, more dangerous. He leaned down until their noses brushed. "Oh, monkey... bad boys are so much better in bed. Want me to give you a demo?"

She gasped, then broke into helpless giggles, trying to wriggle away. But he was faster, undoing his shirt buttons with practiced ease, every reveal of smooth skin making her heart race harder.

Her small, delicate hand pressed against his broad chest, her touch both shy and possessive. "Tell me," she whispered, her voice betraying a hint of curiosity despite herself. "How many kids do you actually want?"

Advait froze for a moment, then tapped his chin dramatically as if counting. He hummed, frowned, then hummed again, making her laugh nervously at his seriousness.

Finally, she asked, "What's taking you so long to decide?"

His eyes sparkled with mischief. "Well... I was counting, and it always ends up around fifteen."

"Fifteen?!" she squealed, smacking his chest with a tiny fist. "Shut up! Be serious!"

He roared with laughter, catching her hand and kissing her knuckles tenderly. "Fine, fine... maybe two. Or three."

Her cheeks burned at the thought, her mind painting pictures she didn't dare admit—her stomach round, his hand cradling it, their children running across the marble floors of this very mansion. For the first time, she allowed herself to imagine that kind of future, and it made her heart swell with something fierce and tender.

"But..." she began softly, almost hesitantly. "What if I'm not ready for kids right away?"

He didn't hesitate for even a second. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a soft kiss that left her breathless, before whispering against her mouth, "I want to be a dad, monkey. So until you give me little humans to call me Dad... don't worry. I'll be your daddy."

Aditi's blush deepened to a shade she didn't know existed, her laughter muffled against his chest as he switched off the lights. And so, wrapped in love and laughter, they celebrated their first night as husband and wife—building not just a marriage, but the dream of a family that, at the time, seemed so certain.

Aditi's eyes blurred with tears as memories of his once childlike excitement for fatherhood replayed in her mind—the way he had spoken about babies on their first night, the way his face had glowed when they had once walked past a toy store, the secret softness he never showed anyone but her. Her chest ached with the weight of what they had lost, of what she had ruined in those few careless moments.

After several minutes of sitting on the edge of the couch, gathering the fragments of her courage, she finally rose. Her footsteps up the marble staircase felt heavier with each step, as though the house itself were warning her not to go. Still, she pushed forward, her heart trembling with fear and longing.

She pushed the door open slowly, careful not to startle him. The bedroom smelled faintly of his cologne, rich and grounding, yet suffocating in the silence. Advait stood before the full-length mirror, his expression impassive, his hands working methodically to fasten the buttons of his crisp white shirt. His reflection looked cold, carved from stone, so unlike the man who used to smile at her mischief or kiss away her sulks.

Without thinking, she moved toward him and slipped her arms around his waist from behind. Her face found the curve of his shoulder, her cheek pressing against the fabric of his shirt, dampening it with the single tear that slipped free.

"I–I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Please... forgive me."

He did not answer. His hands continued to work the buttons as if her presence were nothing more than air. The silence cut deeper than any words could.

"Advait, please," she tried again, her grip tightening on him, her heart pounding. "I just wanted to see you happy."

Finally, his voice came, low and rough, each syllable scraping like gravel. "By doing the very thing you knew would make me angry?"

Her breath caught. She lowered her head, ashamed, unable to defend herself. His words were true. She had crossed the line knowingly, foolishly thinking her intention would shield her from his wrath.

He pried her arms off gently but firmly, as though untangling himself from chains, and stepped away. She watched, broken, as he moved across the room to fetch his coat. He slid it over his shoulders with the same cold precision, never once meeting her eyes in the mirror.

"Advait..." Her voice cracked, tears streaming freely now. "I'm sorry. Please... just talk to me. I only wanted to make things better—for us. But the way you spoke to me..." Her sobs broke through in hiccups. "You hurt me too."

For the world outside, she was Aditi Malhotra—the iron-willed CEO whose glare could silence an entire boardroom. But here, in their room, she was just a girl in love, stripped of armor, trembling in the face of the one man whose approval mattered most.

"Stop crying," he said flatly, tugging the lapels of his coat into place.

But her tears refused to listen. They poured faster, the sound of her broken sobs echoing through the chamber.

His jaw clenched, the veins in his neck straining as he fought his temper. Finally, it erupted. He spun toward her, his voice booming like thunder, his face contorted with suppressed pain.

"I said fucking stop crying!"

Aditi flinched violently, her shoulders curling inward as though to shield herself. The shout pierced through her, louder than the silence, harsher than his words. And instead of stopping, her tears doubled, streaming faster down her face as her body shook like a child's.

Advait's chest rose and fell heavily, his fists clenched at his sides, his anger blazing not just at her but at fate, at himself, at the cruel injustice of the world that had robbed them both. Yet in that moment, all she could see was the man she loved turning into someone she barely recognized.

"Fine," he muttered, his voice quieter now, almost sulking, as if he was bargaining with her pain. "I was actually planning to take you out on a pasta and ice cream date... but it's okay if you don't want—"

His words were cut short when a soft pillow flew across the bed and smacked him right in the face. For anyone else, throwing something at Advait Rathore would have been a death sentence. But this—this was his wife. His lioness. His one weakness. He slowly lowered the pillow from his face, his dark eyes narrowing with mock sternness as a smile threatened to break free.

"Oh?" he said, shifting his tone into an exaggerated babyish voice that would have made his board of directors faint in shock. "Who wants to come on a date with me, hmm? Any little monkey out there?"

Aditi couldn't stop the small laugh that bubbled out, her lips curving despite the tears that still shimmered on her lashes. She lifted her hand high like a child in a classroom and shouted with mock enthusiasm, "Meeeee!"

That one word was enough to break through the wall of anger around his heart. His lips curved into a rare, genuine smile—one only she could summon. The sight of her smiling again melted the storm inside him. He hated seeing her cry, hated himself for being the reason. He stretched his arms open wide, his voice dropping into a teasing challenge.

"And who," he drawled, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "wants to climb a six-foot-three tall tree, hmm?"

"Me!" she squealed, playing along with unrestrained joy. In the next instant, she ran into his arms and leapt onto him, wrapping herself around him like the monkey he always teased her for being. Advait caught her effortlessly, his strong arms locking her in place as though she weighed nothing. He buried his face into her hair, inhaling the familiar scent that calmed every nerve in his body, while she nestled her face into the warm curve of his neck.

They held onto each other tightly, as if the world outside their embrace didn't exist, as if love alone could mend every fracture between them. For a long moment, neither spoke. The silence was no longer heavy—it was healing.

Finally, Advait kissed the crown of her head, his lips lingering there. His voice was low, rough, but filled with remorse. "I'm sorry, love. I'll... I'll try harder to control my anger. I know I hurt you, and I hate myself for it."

Aditi tightened her grip on him, her lips brushing his throat as she whispered back, half-teasing, half-forgiving, "It's okay. I'll forgive you... but only if you buy me an extra scoop of ice cream."

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest and against her cheek. The laugh wasn't just amusement—it was relief, gratitude, and love all tangled together. His heart swelled with an emotion so fierce it almost scared him. How could someone be this essential to his existence?

"Done," he murmured, his lips brushing her hair. "One extra scoop, two if my monkey behaves. And after work, come straight to my office. No excuses. We'll sneak out for a lunch date... just the two of us."

Her face lit up at his words, her earlier tears already fading into memory. She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes and gave him a small, playful smirk. "Better keep your promise, Mr. Rathore. Or else this monkey might just go on a date with someone else."

His eyes darkened instantly, his smirk turning into a possessive glare. "Don't even joke about it," he growled, before capturing her lips in a kiss that left no room for argument.