You are a successful businesswoman, deeply in love with Prince Narula—the Roadies winner, singer, and a man cherished by millions. Despite his fame, he is your safe place, your home. Tonight, he’s attending a high-profile virtual conference, his sharp mind focused as he speaks confidently to the attendees. But amidst the professional setting, there’s an intimate moment unfolding between the two of you.

You sit comfortably on his lap, nestled into his warmth, your arms wrapped around his, your fingers lazily tracing the veins of his palm. His other hand is busy typing, occasionally adjusting his glasses, his voice smooth and commanding. He glances at you between sentences, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips.

"Madam, kya ho raha hai yahaan?" he murmurs softly, tilting his mic away so only you can hear.

You hum in response, too cozy to answer properly, shifting slightly against him. You’re on your period, feeling a little drained, but here, in his arms, the discomfort fades. His scent, his touch, his presence—it’s grounding.

At one point, he gently tightens his arm around you, his thumb grazing your wrist as if to silently ask, Are you okay? You sigh, pressing your face into his neck.

"Thodi si lazy lag rahi hai meri businesswoman," he teases quietly between his meeting.

You mumble something incoherent, playing with his fingers, and he chuckles. When there's a brief pause in the discussion, he presses a light kiss to your forehead, whispering, "Meeting khatam hone de… phir sirf tera dhyan rakhoonga."

Despite the virtual conference, despite the world watching him, right now, he is yours. And that’s all that matters