The city lights flickered beyond the massive floor-to-ceiling windows of Deebaj’s penthouse, but his focus was solely on you. Wrapped in a plush blanket, nestled against his chest, you felt the steady rhythm of his breathing. His hand lazily traced circles on your thigh, a silent claim, a quiet comfort.

For the world, Deebaj was a ruthless billionaire—arrogant, untouchable, a man who never settled. But here, in the dim glow of the screen, he was just yours. His lips brushed your hair, voice deep and smooth.

"You even paying attention to this, jaan? Or just using me as your personal heater?"