"Her innocent King"
He never wore a crown, never held a gun... but still, he ruled her world.
She was born with blood on her hands and fire in her veins-the mafia princess everyone feared. A girl who could break ribs without breaking a sweat, yet s...
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The morning sun poured gently over the Aarvies' lush garden, painting everything in a golden glow. The air was fragrant with blooming marigolds and the unmistakable aroma of chai. Birds chirped lazily in the background while laughter bubbled from the patio, where the family sat together with steaming mugs in hand.
Ruhanika, Malti, and Ruhaan were settled comfortably on the swing, their cups clinking softly as they stirred in sugar. It was a perfect morning warmth, laughter, and the kind of peace only family could bring.
Then came Vihaan and siya.
Ruhanika's husband strolled into the garden, his dark hair deliciously tousled, his casual kurta hugging him just right. Leaning against the gate, he crossed his arms with a playful pout.
"Mere bina chai pi rahi ho, jaan?" [You're drinking chai without me, love?]
Ruhanika smirked, setting her cup aside, her earrings swaying as she tilted her head.
"Haan toh? Kya aapko khat likh du main? Phone toh aap ghar pe bhool aaye!" [So what? Should I write you a letter? You left your phone at home anyway!]
Vihaan chuckled, walking over to press a quick kiss on her forehead. Malti's eyes crinkled with amusement, soaking in the easy banter of the couple.
On the other side, Siya slipped closer to Ruhaan, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Without warning, she grabbed his cup and took a slow sip, her smile daring him to react.
Ruhaan's jaw dropped. "Meri chaiiii!" [My chai!]
Siya laughed, holding the cup just out of his reach, her grin wicked and sweet all at once.
Their playful tug-of-war drew chuckles from Malti, who simply shook her head, her heart swelling at the sight of her family's joy.
Hours later, the living room transformed into a whirlwind of hugs, blessings, and hurried goodbyes. Ruhaan and Siya left with bags in hand, excitement sparking in their eyes.
At the airport, Siya leaned into Ruhaan, looking effortlessly chic in a hoodie and jeans. Her voice dipped into a playful pout as she murmured, "Aapne pucha bhi nahi ki main subha kahan gayi thi." [You didn't even ask where I went this morning.]
Ruhaan's lips curved into the softest smile, his thumb brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. "Bharosa hai mujhko tum pe... aur tum papa ke saath thi. Tension ka sawal hi nahi." [I trust you... and you were with Dad. I had no reason to worry.]
Her pout melted into a smile, her head finding his chest as if it had always belonged there.
By the time they landed in Greece, the Mediterranean sun painted everything gold. Their villa in Santorini stood like a dream of whitewashed walls against a never-ending blue sea.
