Days went by, and people started to forget about the news. To help them forget the information, a top channel sponsored by Shivaay's company began broadcasting a sensational reality show hosted by a current superstar. As a result, people automatically focused on the show instead of Anika and Spy magazine. It had also been a month since a new issue of Spy magazine had been published. Anika was confused because she knew the circle she was in was vast, and to date, no one had been able to track from which country it had been published. She shared this with Shivaay, who was equally confused, but he handled the situation with ease. Of the 12 cases against her, only two remained; the rest had been dismissed.

One day, while Shivaay was on a call with the board of directors, working from home, his concentration was interrupted by the aroma of something familiar. The smell distracted him—it was Junglee Maas, a dish his mother used to make for him when he was feeling down. He had never told her it was his favorite, but he ate it as if there was no tomorrow whenever she prepared it. His eyes watered as a rush of memories of his mom came flooding back, and he could no longer focus on the call. He quickly pinged Om to take over and disconnected the call.

Shivaay rose from his study and walked toward the kitchen, only to be surprised by the sight of his wife. She was stirring the curry and simultaneously making rotis.

For a moment, he couldn't believe his eyes. There she was, in a black apron over her knee-length floral dress, her hair tied in a bun, expertly roasting the rotis. He blinked, trying to recall if this was indeed his wife. Just then, her eyes met his, and she gave him a mesmerizing smile.

"I thought your call would last another hour. What happened?" she asked, but Shivaay couldn't respond—he just walked towards her.

"Junglee Maas?" he asked, looking between her and the dish. She smiled at his surprise.

"Yes, I tried something. Hope you like it," she said with amusement. But Shivaay was still in shock, especially when she held a freshly made roti, placed the dish in the center, and rolled it up like a pro.

"For the first time, your wife made something on her own. If it's bad, please bear with me. I'll do better next time," she said and fed him with her hands. His eyes watered as he tasted his mom's dish, now made by his wife. He didn't say anything but gently pulled her closer, lifted her onto the counter, and continued to eat from her hand, even licking her fingers to show his appreciation when words failed him. Sensing his emotions, she hugged him and kissed his forehead.

"Shivaay, remember our first date at McDonald's?" Anika asked, while Shivaay, still at a loss for words, simply hummed in response.

"That day, I told you, one day I'll be a better cook than you and you'll be addicted to me," Anika said with a chuckle. Shivaay smiled and touched her forehead with his.

"I'm already addicted to you," he replied, giving her a quick peck on the lips. He didn't push further, sensing her hesitation. He knew she was going through a lot in her career, and he was content to wait for her.

"I know, but I want you to get addicted to my cooking skills too," she said with a smile. She hopped down from the counter, placed six or seven rotis on a plate, and handed him the bowl of Junglee Maas. Shivaay understood—they were about to have lunch together, sharing from the same plate. She led him to the cozy drawing room, and they sat down in front of the television. She didn't wait but began feeding him.

"Is there something special today? Why am I getting the royal treatment from my queen?" he asked, as he ate from her hands.

"Because you are my king," she said with a chuckle.

"There's nothing special, really. I just wanted to make something nice for lunch, and today I finally got the chance since you were busy with your call," she explained as she ate from his hands.

"Isn't it too spicy?" she asked after tasting the dish.

"No, I like spice. That's why I fell in love with you," he joked, feeding her another bite. He noticed her flushed face, but she took a sip of water and continued. She could only manage two rotis, while he finished the rest and still wanted more, especially when she was feeding him.

"I want more," he demanded.

"Help yourself, please," she replied in the same tone.

"But where are the house helps?" he asked, confused.

"I gave them the day off," she replied.

"I wanted some peace in my kitchen, but their constant watching shook my confidence," she explained.

"Okay, I'll have the same for dinner," he said, clearing the plates with a wide smile. Despite her efforts, Shivaay didn't explicitly tell her how much he loved the dish that brought back memories of his mom. But he was sure, through his actions, that his wife understood.

****

It was her husband's birthday—how could she do nothing special for the most important person in her life? She knew the past month had been hectic, with him busy getting her cleared of all the charges, and she needed 24/7 security since her enemies could trash her office or do anything to get to her. Over the course of this month, she had seen different sides of her husband. She knew he was caring, but she also saw his intense, protective side. His sleep had become so light that even the sound of a table screeching would wake him up. He had arranged the best group of lawyers to get her out of legal trouble. But what surprised her most was that he didn't make any moves towards physical intimacy, even though she could feel his patience wearing thin. She knew that just by being around, she was adding to his stress, but he chose to stay silent, especially knowing that she would melt in his arms. She also knew that he never celebrated his birthday due to some bitter memories with his father. Even his mother had never forced him to celebrate. While people often forget anniversaries, her husband always forgot his own birthday. Knowing he wouldn't celebrate it, she kept her plans under wraps and made it special in her own way, focusing on spending time with him.

Just then, Shivaay entered the room with two bowls of her favorite ice cream. He handed her one and turned on the television to watch a movie. Without waiting, he asked her for a movie suggestion, and she knew exactly how to play her trump card.

"How about 365 Days?" she suggested without hesitation. He started coughing at her choice and looked at her in shock. She chuckled at his reaction, took the remote, and turned on the movie.

"Watch the movie," she said, noticing that he couldn't take his eyes off her.

"What's gotten into you?" he asked after a long pause.

"Watching porn while having sex... whose fantasy is this?" she finally said. She knew there was no turning back after that, but he remained frozen, holding the ice cream bowl. She wondered what had happened to her normally impatient husband; she missed him in that moment. He just kept staring at her.

"Ugh, I'm done giving you hints, Mr. Oberoi," she said, jumping into his lap. The ice cream fell onto his lap, but he remained still.

"Don't worry, I'm going to get rid of those pants anyway," she whispered in his ear, tracing her lips along his jawline before capturing his lips in a kiss. She felt no hesitation in initiating it, eagerly waiting for the moment when he would take control. But, like before, he merely held her lips.

"Shivaay..." she moaned into his mouth. Finally, he began to respond with the fierce passion she had missed for so long. In no time, she felt her dress being torn apart, but she didn't care. Soon, she felt a familiar heat between her legs as he enclosed his lips around her breasts, groaning against them.

As his hand reached down to her legs, continuing to devour her, she stopped him midway, held his face, and made him look at her. Their eyes met, and she saw the deepest shade of his blue eyes—burning with passion, love, and lust. It was her favorite part of the whole process, seeing him completely possessed by her and fully dependent on her. Her hands moved down, tugging at his tracks to release his "beast." She wrapped her hand around it without breaking eye contact and felt him shudder under her touch.

"I want you now..." she commanded, guiding him inside her. A sharp pain shot through her since it had been years, but along with the pain came an overwhelming pleasure. She saw a flicker of amusement on his face.

He started slowly but picked up the pace as she pulled him deeper into her, gripping his waist. He thrust harder, and she knew he had crossed the line when he devoured her mouth and breasts until they burned. Both were nearing their climax when the doorbell rang. Terror filled both their faces. To make matters worse, the movie on TV was playing a similar scene, syncing with their moans.

"Oh my god! Let them leave. I-I can't stop right now," he said, thrusting deeply into her. She felt the same urgency, and as if to add fuel to the fire, he bit her lip in pleasure as he came close to release. Her phone rang next, interrupting the moment. She had a special feature that announced the caller's name aloud—it was her mom.

"Baby... hurry..." she moaned, only to have her lips captured again by his. The intensity increased, and they heard a vase break nearby. Her head spun as he devoured her completely. Her phone rang for the third time, and this time, it coincided with his release. She came undone with him, her fingers buried in his hair. Both heaved deep breaths, but his eyes widened in shock as he looked at her.

"It's mom," she said, gesturing for him to get dressed. He quickly jumped up and dressed, noticing her ripped undergarments and floral dress. She didn't waste a second, grabbing her torn dress and rushing into the bedroom, gesturing for him to clean up the mess. But he remained frozen, still looking at her with concern. She realized the reason when she caught sight of herself in the mirror. She screamed at the sight of her bruised lips and red neck. Her husband had marked her with countless hickeys.

Panic struck when she heard the voices of her father, father-in-law, and mother coming from the hallway.

****