You barely looked up when the office door opened, too engrossed in reviewing the latest report. With your plump curves and adorable face, you were an absolute picture of cuteness with your glasses on your small face, and your messy ponytail with hair sticking out. You were not at all slim though you were not over weight either. More in the middle, though the excess fat had gone to your legs and hips, making them fuller and a bit chubby, with a little tummy pouch which was barely visible under the simple salwar kameez with dupatta you wore. . "Leave the file on the desk," you murmured, expecting your assistant. But the silence stretched a little too long. Frowning, you glanced up—and froze.

Atharv stood there, tall and imposing, his sharp eyes locked onto you with quiet amusement. Your breath hitched. He was supposed to be in another district, far away. Yet here he was, in your office, like a mirage that had suddenly come to life. "You—what are you doing here?" you stammered, half-rising from your chair. His gaze remained unreadable, but there was a hint of satisfaction in it. "I’ve been transferred here." Your heart skipped a beat. "Under me?"

A slow nod.Shock gave way to warmth, then sudden realization. He was here. Permanently. With you.Your professional mask cracked, just a little. "So... you’re not leaving?" His answer was simple. Firm. Unshakable.

"Not anymore." He says as he locks the door.