Rathore's Vengeance

Abhimanyu entered the room after a long conversation with Aavyan, his mind still preoccupied with the chaos Ekansh had left behind before flying off to France. He let out a deep sigh, the weight of responsibility pressing heavily on his shoulders. Handling Ekansh was like chasing the wind-unpredictable and impossible to grasp. With a shake of his head, Abhimanyu stepped inside, his gaze immediately falling on his wife, asleep on the bed. She looked peaceful, almost delicate, like a fragile soul lost in her dreams. But appearances could be deceiving-if she was awake and in the middle of an argument, her sharp wit could disarm even the most determined opponent. The thought brought a faint chuckle to his lips, softening the tension in his chest.

He moved to the sleek wooden desk by the window, where the dim light of a table lamp illuminated a stack of files. Among them lay the folder containing the details of their perfume brand-a project that demanded his undivided attention. Abhimanyu sat down, flipping through the papers with practiced ease. His brows furrowed as he read, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

Ekansh, with his impulsive decisions, had fired their top-tier perfumer and chemist without warning. These were not just employees-they were the backbone of the brand, the ones who could turn concepts into reality. Without them, the launch of their latest perfume was at risk, and if the launch failed, the ripple effect would jeopardize their most ambitious project yet. This perfume wasn't just a product; it was a statement meant to captivate dealers before their major meeting-a strategic first step in securing their attention and trust.

Time wasn't on their side. Abhimanyu had already instructed Aavyan to handle the reappointment of the fired employees by morning. There was no room for delays or second-guessing. His focus returned to the files as he reviewed every detail meticulously, searching for any overlooked angle or contingency. The weight of responsibility pressed against his temples, but giving up wasn't an option.

After what felt like hours, he finally leaned back in his chair, closing the files and placing them neatly on the desk. His hand lingered on the papers for a moment, his gaze drifting back to his wife. The sight of her peaceful form filled him with a rare calm, a fleeting reminder of why he pushed through every challenge. But tonight, there was no rest for him-not until this mess was fixed.

Abhimanyu lay down on his side of the bed, his gaze naturally falling on Misha. She was curled up peacefully, her chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. A few stray strands of her hair had fallen across her face, framing her serene expression. The sight tugged at something deep within him, a mix of tenderness and quiet admiration.

He reached out slowly, his fingers hovering just for a moment, as if afraid to disturb her tranquility. With the lightest touch, he tucked the strands behind her ear, his movements so delicate it was as though he feared even the faintest shift would wake her. The warmth of her skin under his fingertips lingered, and a soft smile appeared on his lips.

As he adjusted the blanket over her shoulders, ensuring she was cocooned in warmth, he took a moment to take in her peaceful face, feeling a rare sense of calm wash over him. Turning onto his back, Abhimanyu let out a quiet sigh, his eyes tracing the faint patterns on the ceiling. The weight of the day's troubles seemed to ease just a little, and with that, he closed his eyes, letting sleep finally take him.