I love you, my love

Devansh leaned closer to Anesha, his intense gaze locking onto her serene face as he gently brushed his nose against hers. Inhaling deeply, he murmured,

"Two years... For two long years, I yearned for this scent, my love. Not anymore. From this moment on, I'll drown myself in this fragrance, lose myself in it, and make you mine once again—forever."

His piercing black eyes traveled from Anesha's face to her soft, pink lips, tempting yet untouched.

The closeness of her presence and the faint, enchanting fragrance of her body was intoxicating him, stirring something primal deep within.

The effects of alcohol flushed Anesha's delicate face crimson. Her silky black hair cascaded over the bed like a royal crown, amplifying her beauty. Even in this vulnerable state, she appeared ethereal—innocent, alluring, and captivating all at once.

Devansh's sharp features softened as he gazed at her. His body betrayed him, responding to her mere existence, his desires stirring uncontrollably.

Despite the intensity of his emotions, a charming smile graced his lips. For once, he wasn't angry at his lack of control—he welcomed it.

Leaning closer, he whispered against her lips, his voice low and deliberate,

"My love, you've always had this power over me, always entangled me in your spell. No one else ever could—and no one ever will."

His lips barely grazed hers as he spoke, his words laced with yearning.

Devansh had removed his mask the moment he entered the room, his perfectly chiseled face radiating warmth. Each feature of Anesha's face seemed to mesmerize him as he lingered, admiring her.

After a moment, he pulled back and stood tall, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"You haven't changed at all, my love. Two years... and you're still the same delicate beauty you were four years ago. Tiny, fragile, like a kitten. And to my surprise, that's exactly how I like you."

A low chuckle escaped his lips as he shook his head at his own confession.

This Devansh—smiling, talking to a sleeping Anesha like a man deeply in love—was a stark contrast to the ruthless figure capable of stabbing an enemy without a second thought.

He bent down once more, gently brushing his lips against her forehead. His voice turned husky with emotion as he whispered,

"I love you, my love. I always have, and I always will. This time, I won't let anything or anyone take you away from me. No more mistakes—not even the ones I made two years ago."

As he pulled back, his lips curved into a smirk. He licked his lips lightly, his tone shifting to something darker,

"But for now, I need to leave. If I stay another moment, I'll lose my self-control. And if that happens, you know, my love, you won't be able to leave this bed for days."

Devansh turned, taking a deep breath to steady himself. After stealing one last glance at Anesha's serene face, he walked into the bathroom.

Under the icy torrent of the shower, fully clothed, he leaned against the wall, letting the cold water cool his burning desires. His white shirt clung to his sculpted chest, the cuts of his defined muscles visible beneath the wet fabric.

The water didn't faze him—his wide, unblinking eyes seemed lost in thought.

Once composed, he returned to the room, now dressed in a deep blue silk night suit. The V-neckline accentuated his broad chest, which gleamed softly under the room's muted lights.

Anesha stirred on the bed, murmuring faintly as if caught in a restless dream. Her movements caught Devansh's attention immediately.

He approached her in long, purposeful strides and gently brushed her hair from her face, his touch tender. "Calm down, my love. I'm here. Nothing will harm you," he murmured, his voice soothing.

Leaning closer, he brought his ear near her lips, straining to catch her faint whispers.

"I will fight and survive," she mumbled, her voice barely audible.

Hearing those words, a dark smile curved Devansh's lips. He nuzzled her cheek lightly, his voice a low growl,

"You've already fought, my love, and you've survived. Now it's my turn. From this moment, you don't need to fight anymore. I'll take care of everything. All you have to do is live freely."

His gentle strokes on her hair seemed to calm her further. But just as he was about to lift her into his arms, he felt something that made him freeze.

His gaze shifted to her small hands—she had gripped the belt of his night suit tightly, her delicate fingers clinging to it as if in protest.

A flicker of emotion passed through his eyes as he sat back down.

The moment he did, Anesha shifted in her sleep, instinctively laying her head on his lap and wrapping her arms around his waist.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he bent down, pressing a kiss to her hair. But his amusement didn't last long.

Anesha stirred again, her face pale. Moments later, she vomited—right onto his lap.

Devansh's expression froze. His jaw tightened as he glanced at the ruined fabric of his night suit.

"You'll never change, will you, my love?" he muttered, his tone devoid of emotion.

Even asleep, Anesha managed to turn the situation into utter chaos.

His million-dollar night suit was completely drenched, but instead of frustration, a faint smile tugged at his lips.

________________________________

Despite Devansh's love and longing, what drove him to divorce Anesha two years ago?

What secrets lie in their past?

To know…

To be continued…