And that was it. I lost it.

I turned the other way and started walking away, my pace quick with anger that burned through my veins like acid. I didn't care if he was forced or not; he shouldn't have let her touch him like that. He should have pushed her away, should have made it clear that he belonged to me, that his lips, his body, his heart were all mine.

Vedansh saw me walking away and rushed to my side, calling my name, but I didn't turn back. A moment later, his car pulled up beside me, slowing to match my pace, the window rolled down to reveal his desperate expression.

"Aahana, get in the car," he pleaded, his voice strained with urgency.

I ignored him, my eyes fixed on the path ahead, my jaw tight with unspoken accusations.

"You can scold me, you can hit me, but please don't walk away like this," he continued, his words following me like a persistent shadow.

I still ignored him, my anger a solid wall between us, impenetrable and absolute.

Then he stopped the car abruptly. I heard the door open and his footsteps on the pavement, quick and determined. Before I could react, his arms were around me, lifting me effortlessly as if I weighed nothing. I resisted, hitting his back with my fists, my blows ineffectual against his broad shoulders, but it was no use. He carried me back to the car and gently but firmly made me sit in the passenger seat before driving us to his apartment. The entire ride, I sat perfectly still, staring out the window, refusing to look at him or say a single word, the silence between us heavier than any argument could have been.

"I want to go home," I said as he parked in his designated spot, my voice flat, devoid of emotion.

"We are here."

"I mean my apartment."

"Not going to happen," he replied, his voice firm but gentle.

He picked me up again, effortlessly grabbing our bags and carrying me into his apartment, his arms strong and steady around me. As soon as he put me down, I tried to create distance between us, but he was faster. He grabbed my waist, pulling me flush against his chest, his heart beating rapidly against my back.

"Talk to me, my love. You can't just stay silent. You know it kills me," he whispered against my ear, his breath warm and pleading.

"You should have thought about that before you let her kiss you," I retorted, my voice cold despite the tremor that ran through me at his proximity.

"I was leaving when she came and asked for my help to carry her things. I didn't know she was going to kiss me," he explained, his words rushing out in a desperate attempt to make me understand.

"You knew her intentions, and you still chose to help her. What's next? You'll let her hold your hand, then kiss you on the lips, and then... even more?" I asked, my voice rising with accusation, the images flashing through my mind like a nightmare.

"I'm sorry, Aahana. I know I was wrong. Forgive me this once. If I ever let her get that close again, I won't come in front of you again," he promised, his voice thick with emotion.

That was the last thing I wanted, and he knew it. The threat was a clear, desperate plea that cut through my anger like a knife, revealing the vulnerable love beneath.

"Fine. I forgive you," I whispered, my resolve crumbling as I turned in his arms to face him, my eyes searching his for any sign of deception and finding only sincere remorse.

I reached up and gave his ear a light pinch, a small retribution that was more playful than punitive.

"Next time she touches you, I'll be the one punishing you, and it won't be pleasant," I warned, my voice soft but firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

He nodded, his eyes sincere and apologetic. He pulled me even closer, his hands tightening around my waist as if he feared I might slip away.

"You look so good when you're jealous," he murmured, a small smile playing on his lips despite the seriousness of the situation.

"I wasn't that jealous... just a little bit," I admitted, unable to maintain my anger when he looked at me like that.

"Then let me make it up to you," he whispered, his voice dropping to a husky tone that sent shivers down my spine.

With that, he scooped me up into his arms, one arm under my knees and the other supporting my back, carrying me toward the bathroom with an ease that still took my breath away. He gently set me down and went to the tub, running the water and carefully checking the temperature with his hand, adjusting the faucets until it was just right.

"What are you doing?" I asked, watching him with curiosity as steam began to rise and fill the room.

"You're going to be the boss today, and I'm going to serve you. Anything you ask, I will do," he said, turning to face me with an expression of complete sincerity.

"Are you sure? Anything?" I challenged, raising an eyebrow as a playful idea began to form in my mind.

"Yes, anything," he confirmed without hesitation, his eyes unwavering as he met my gaze.

A slow, mischievous smile spread across my face as I looked at him, my earlier anger melting away, replaced by something much more exciting.

"Then help me take a bath," I said, my voice dropping to a low, intimate whisper as I reached for the hem of my shirt, ready to let him make it up to me in the most delicious way possible.