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But tonight, as I stared at the city lights outside my window, a yearning stirred within me.

I thought of love.

Not just any love—the kind that consumed you, shook you to your core, and yet became your anchor. 

I wanted a love that was limitless but with just enough boundaries to keep me grounded. 

A love that would make my heart race and my soul calm all at once.

Dominance came naturally to me. 

I thrived in control, loved being bold, and relished in the power I exuded in every room I entered. 

Yet, beneath that veneer of authority, I longed for someone who could match my strength, someone who could make me surrender—not because they demanded it, but because I trusted them enough to.

For now, though, the world of boardrooms and business deals awaited. 

I shut the laptop and placed my phone aside. 

Tomorrow was crucial, and Raghavi Shergill wasn't one to let emotions cloud her path. 

But as I drifted to sleep, the thought lingered—a love like that, boundless yet anchoring, would be worth waiting for.

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"Dad, seriously?" I groaned, leaning against the armrest of the couch like the weight of the world had just been dumped on me

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"Dad, seriously?" I groaned, leaning against the armrest of the couch like the weight of the world had just been dumped on me. 

My father, Ranjit Randhawa, didn't even flinch as he calmly munched on a handful of potato chips. "You're really going to make me sit through a presentation? I'm your son!"

My father smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Son or no son, this is business. If you want the collaboration between NIYARA and NOOR, you better do it properly."

I threw my head back in dramatic despair, staring at the ceiling as if it might somehow intervene on my behalf. "This is betrayal of the highest order," I muttered, casting a glare at my father.

Before I could launch into another round of complaints, my mother, Aparna Randhawa, entered the room and sat beside him, her presence immediately softening the atmosphere.

"Mom!" I cried, sitting up and pointing at my father like a wronged child tattling to a teacher. "Please explain to your husband! What is he even saying?"

My mother raised a brow, her lips twitching with amusement. "He's absolutely right," she said, siding with her husband. "Son, since you've worked so hard to build NOOR, put in a little more effort to take it further."

I sighed in defeat, my dramatic act crumbling. "Okay, fine," I grumbled, waving a hand. "I'll do it."

My father smiled in victory, popping another chip into his mouth. "Good," he said, brushing crumbs off his fingers. "Then get ready to fly to Mumbai. Our next meeting will be there."

~From Ashes to Passion~  [Multicouple Series #3]Where stories live. Discover now